Godawful Early Haiku I recall that one of my first attempts at haiku, in 1976 or so, was about thunder applauding the lightning’s performance. That’s not only an overwrought conceit, but disastrous for haiku, although I hadn’t yet learned why. As a reminder to myself that I took my turn suffering under deep and superficial misunderstandings of haiku, here—if you can stomach them—are 46 of my early haiku (ahem, pseudo-haiku), all written by 1984, and all gloriously titled and clueless. See if you can enjoy any of them, or at least enjoy seeing my younger self in them. At least the one about the eggshell still amuses me.
9 O’Clock
Evening bells tolling Ringing, telling and singing The evening’s passing.
The Muskrat
Nose-up fur-button Ripple-tail splitting water Father paddling home.
The Squirrel
Half tail, half not A bundle of leaping fur Scampering away.
Thundercloud
The deepening sky Yawns with his cavernous mouth— Tongue of light leaps out.
Haiku for Children
Bullets splatter blood But video life’s a smile, A test tube no more.
Eggshell
I found an egg shell— The egg was still inside it. I made it come out.
Frankly, My Dear
I know who’s to blame (. . . the Butler didn’t do it) Your sins are Scarlett.
Pining
See the lonely rose Bobbing for the butterfly Leaving her weeping.
Pygmalion
Memory’s statue— My overwhelming passion She loves not I yet.
Updraft
I am Icarus Flying too close to Venus . . . Open heart descends.
Dropped
I need to be alone The young man said aloud To no one at all.
Hitters
Everything to come Touches home and then is flown Can you stay awhile?
In the previous poem, I had wanted to write an acrostic for “etc.” (don’t ask me why). This also influenced the word choices for the first line (also acrostic). The next three poems achieve the same stupendous acrostic feat, and their three titles together were intended to say “Opportunity Well Spent.” Wasn’t I clever?
Opportunity
Early in the day The dawn breaks out in shinelight Crowning her maker.
Well
Every zenith sun Takes our lives in trust till death Counting till it’s done.
Spent
Evening shadows fade— Tonight the light has fallen Calling rest to mind.
After the Rain
Shadows leave the sand The sun breaks through the rainfall Pitching mellow shade.
Sappy Birthday
Give me your presence Or be a birthday friend, and Give me your presents.
Auschwitz
The pall overwhelms Bodies in a plethora Of absentee sound.
Captivator
She is such a smile All smiles and the only smile To capture a slave.
The Sting
Verbs in your sonnets Are like bees in your bonnets For the sting disturbs.
Hi, Koo
Her face is showing Stark and dark reality— This one is for Koo.
The preceding poem was written about Koo Stark on 24 January 1984, while I was living in England.
Nuptial Creature
Weddings are strange beasts; They prowl near and threaten, but Never feed on me.
Fasting
Another day passed and I will still be fasting Thinned from daily work.
Bonsai Waterfall
Rush wooden water Cascade round me naughtily— Tree-root in the stream.
The Apple
The crisp and bitten Apple of Adam and Eve Fathers half a worm.
The Dawn
This a just goodbye In case I should die tonight— Morning’s sun will shine.
Albatross
I, straight and single Scraping the heavenly clouds Fly like a seagull.
Suburban Soliloquy
Just painted petals Pollute my plastic townhouse Clinical and pure.
Widerspruch
She spoke as a child “I wish my life be sinneful.” But she spoke German.
The German word for “meaningful” is “sinne.” This poem quotes a German friend’s statement verbatim.
This Little Piggy
A good Friend of mine Said to me at the Market Caveat emptor.
Wind
Silently sailing Till crashing into the ground The gusting is life.
Amiens
Eleven o’clock I hear the cathedral bells Peeling to battle.
My Hand
Smooth symmetrical The outlying dying veins Surrounding my leaf.
The Passing of Love and Time
The years that wedge in Bring no greater distance, when We were never close.
What You’ve Been Up To
Cry and the earth cries Whimper and the earth whimpers Smile and the earth knows . . .
Wish of an Aspen
Snowbird, nest with me About me, flitter-singing Concealing my fall.
I, Metaphor
She vies herself “ten” Virgin, who I would rate high But I, met a four.
Bedroom
Slowly sliding shut My corrugated curtains Block out evenings dark.
Dust in the Moonbeam
I awaken slow Discovering a tickle On my moonbeam face.
She (Epithalameum)
lingering hissing what a subtle word she is all containing he.
Spiritual Halitosis
Bible-thumping gush— Spiritual halitosis Wilting weary ears.
Clouds
My migraine pulsates Swelling and shrinking the clouds There ought to be rain.
Pharasite
A nuisance to count You gave your ducats clanging —Suitedly pious.
Homiletic Wheels
The longer you spoke Then the larger the tire Became for the bike.
Unquenched
Chalice of mine heart Sputter-thirst I, bashlessly As of yet unquenched.
Tetherball
Rebounding, swinging Sphere of a human nature Encircling the sun. 
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