I trip over
the haiku simile
like it's a log

turkeys
cross the road -
why?

ear flaps down
I can still hear my wife's
criticism

autumn hunting trip
under the moon we eat our
Campbell's pork and beans

game supper

the guest bites down on
a # 6 shot

June evening
the sounds of the combine
mixing with the TV

wisteria
climbing up the house
again

the fields
alive with dame's rocket
welcome visitor

sunny morning
among the quince blossoms
an oriole

an injury
reminds of life's
fragility

marsh marigolds
a child's
handpicked bouquet

a pile of feathers
one less free range chicken
daffodils bloom

moving blanket
on the living room floor
wife says, move it

spitting snow
a hawk overhead
carrying a stick

lecture over
throat is sore
- office hours

warrior spirit
the Johnny Cash Strategy
cherry blossoms fall

spring freshet
an unbroken light bulb
floats in an eddy

spring break afternoon
Route 9 dim sum haiku group
poetry reading

March indifference
a weird inbetween season
neither warm nor cold

haiku
without ballast
floats on air

here's another by Basho:

Cold night: the wild duck,
sick, falls from the sky
and sleeps awhile.

It is often complained that American haiku tends to have to much going on -- and yet there is a lot going on in this haiku by Basho.

Don't imitate me;
it's as boring
as the two halves of a melon.

Matsuo Basho
translated by Robert Hass

all day
geese
flying north

the peace
of a Friday
afternoon

winter barn cat
asleep in the hay
mice unmolested

deserted mill
along the canal
where are my missing socks . . .

midnight on the web -
net sure is spooky at night
when you're all alone

furtive cigarette
for as long as I've known him -
father's indulgence

dog with cold rawhide
watches birds expectantly
as shadows lengthen

cat in winter tree
just above the bird feeder
the birds ignore you

humorous haiku
choka to be more precise
over at big poem

"I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit. In my afternoon walk I would fain forget all my morning occupations and my obligations to Society. But it sometimes happens that I cannot easily shake off the village. The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my body is--I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my senses. What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods?"
--Thoreau, "Walking"

how did he put it?
"been around the writer's block
once or twice before"

hay baled up in white
marshmallows on a landscape -
good enough to eat

grey farm pond
water on ice
dirty dishpan

To a philosopher, all news,
as it is called, is gossip,
and they who edit and read it
are old women over their tea.
--Thoreau

deer running through sheep
scare the snot out of the sheep
baah baah scaredy sheep

my wisdom teeth hurt
most philosophers are fools
says one in the know

inspired by:
http://analphilosopher.powerblogs.com/posts/1135894743.shtml

Somewhere I read that Basho wrote about 2000 haiku in his life of which 100 or so are considered excellent, and of which he believed there were maybe ten that truly hit the mark. This is a tough ratio but perhaps holds a realistic perspective for us all. Excellent haiku craft requires tireless resolve to keep at it despite the misses and bunches of weaker attempts, with hope that out of the effort will surely come some keepers, and, if we are lucky, serendipity may provide an opportunity to create a haiku that will stand the test of time.
--Tom Clausen, "A Haiku Way of Life"

zappai #1

humorous haiku
just for the sheer hell of it
really haiku? Not!