Friday, September 02, 2011
Haiku friday: Heat
It has been quite a trip-- very challenging in the ways I expected (and I won't deny a deep sadness that goes with that), but wonderful, too. I think something is happening here... there is a turning point that has little to do with me and everything to do with students. It is amazing to see. Meanwhile...
Central Texas is an oven. Let's haiku about hot days today.
Here is mine:
Minnesota home,
A verdant garden, but here
The ground cracks in pain.
Now it is your turn! You can also haiku about cocktails, taverns, or pants. Just use the 5/7/5 format, more or less (no one really counts)...
Comments:
<< Home
No one really counts?! Really? I do. Just call me the haiku enforcement patrol.
I can't make salsa.
Cutting the hot peppers, then
rubbing my eyes - ouch!
Sticky kids stuck to
Me like velcro. I just need
Some space and a bath.
I can't make salsa.
Cutting the hot peppers, then
rubbing my eyes - ouch!
Sticky kids stuck to
Me like velcro. I just need
Some space and a bath.
I dare to wear pants
As I wander through taverns
Drinking my cocktails.
But it is so hot
The ice in my cocktail melts
So I wear a skirt.
As I wander through taverns
Drinking my cocktails.
But it is so hot
The ice in my cocktail melts
So I wear a skirt.
She prefers dry heat.
He hates the humidity.
So many love fall.
They so love the fall,
just to wait for spring, and then
It's hot, hot again.
I rather like heat.
All the skin, cool drinks, faces
flush summer fever.
He hates the humidity.
So many love fall.
They so love the fall,
just to wait for spring, and then
It's hot, hot again.
I rather like heat.
All the skin, cool drinks, faces
flush summer fever.
Dali's surreal sight--
Real.Time under sun wave melts.
Sere bones scrape cracked crutch.
Curls limp,stick to neck.
Gimme gulps of water now!
Crave ice,taste dustfire.
Real.Time under sun wave melts.
Sere bones scrape cracked crutch.
Curls limp,stick to neck.
Gimme gulps of water now!
Crave ice,taste dustfire.
Mom froze a bleach jug
Full of water.We weeded beans
Scorch-talc of grit-wind.
114 in shade
Rootbeer Koolaid.In muddy
Ditch laid.Kid-frogs' aid.
Full of water.We weeded beans
Scorch-talc of grit-wind.
114 in shade
Rootbeer Koolaid.In muddy
Ditch laid.Kid-frogs' aid.
Their Rector drinks Cosmos,
Even though some count them girly--
It's Good to be Chief.
Green pants with green frogs
State gauche on any occasion
The cleaners has his kilt.
Even though some count them girly--
It's Good to be Chief.
Green pants with green frogs
State gauche on any occasion
The cleaners has his kilt.
The sun could fry steak
On blackhot asphalt.Wrists brush--
Now,they ignore degrees.
Sauvignon iced,swirls
Down my veins,no push,no shove.
Only mellow dame.
Post a Comment
On blackhot asphalt.Wrists brush--
Now,they ignore degrees.
Sauvignon iced,swirls
Down my veins,no push,no shove.
Only mellow dame.
<< Home