I stumble and fall.I weep and struggle to rise.My mom feels it all.

Calligraphy of geeseagainst the sky-the moon seals it.

Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire, I was reborn a third time to the sound of my name...

Reading haiku is as much an art as writing it. The reader needs to pause and listen to the silences, to feel the spaces between the words, and to journey into the depths of many...

Over the wintry forest, winds howl in rage with no leaves to blow.

If this were real life,Ed would have looked at her neck-bite, dead, burp, credits.

Death wins nothing here,gnawing wings that amputate––then spread, lift up, fly.

Footsteps of success, are trailed by fading footprints, of failures past..

April’s air stirs in Willow-leaves…a butterflyFloats and balances

Your hair is winter fire,January embers.My heart burns there, too.-Stephen King, IT

My children are monsters, Kiro thought. And I am responsible. Perhaps if I had read them the haikus of Basho when they were little instead of that American manifesto of high-pressure sales, Green Eggs and...

Fine. If you insist.I’ll try Just.One.Nibble. But–I won’t enjoy it.

In pale moonlight / the wisteria’s scent / comes from far away.

Un-winged and naked, sorrow surrenders its crown to a throne called grace.

Haiku does not express emotion from the inside out by displaying the mind of a character. Haiku builds the emotional thrust, makes the artistic statement from the outside in, from the physical world to the...

Did you just say youThink Mansfield Park is boring? Get out of my house.

Beth from accountingis just sitting in her careating spaghetti.

Life without challenge is life denied any chance for one to achieve.

Ah, it is spring,Great spring it is now,Great, great spring – Ah, Great –

stronger than mountains.a place where my heart feels the safest- underneath his shirt.

Haiku sounds like I’mSaying hi to someone namedKu. Hi, Ku. Hello.

Sorry about thesquishy in your shoe. Must’vebeen something I ate.

Wilted or in bloom,taking or lending daylight,the world transitions.

Tidal waves surge forward,And in their wake, Stale water is replenished.(Haiku from Chapter Thirty, SHADOWWATER)

Quote words that affirmall men and women are yourbrothers and sisters.

Reading haiku is like viewing a photograph or a painting. A haiku is a moment of time, isolated, and held up for viewing.

If the world stops spinning, slowing to a crawl. I will continue to dream of you. Until, I no longer dream at all.

Little old laidesspeed away in their wheel chairs,frightened meals on wheels.

In an age of bombsguzzling blood, skylarks merge peacewith thought and action.

Stretched by an idea, we can aspire to new heights, new ways of thinking.

A bush-warbler,Coming to the verandah-edge,Left its droppingsOn the rice-cakes.

Such a little childTo send to be a priestling…Icy poverty

I want to create a seventeen-syllable word that encompasses the human condition, and then use that word to form the world’s most perfect haiku.

What do you mean “Ewww”?How is my tuna breath worsethan peanut butter?

A whiff of fresh mintthat tastes like strawberry pie.Your kisses tempt me.

Where humanitysowed faith, hope, and unity, joy’s garden blossomed.

But for their cries,The herons would be lostAmidst the morning snow.

This autumn-why am I growing old?bird disappearing among clouds.

Come windless invaderI am a carnival ofStars, a poem of blood.

Hope drowned in shadowsemerges fiercely splendid––boldly angelic.

We are successful the moment we start toward a laudable goal

Haiku is not a shriek, a howl, a sigh, or a yawn; rather, it is the deep breath of life.

Here’s a haiku/palindrome I wrote called, “Obsession.”Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob

What a strange thing!to be alivebeneath cherry blossoms.

A finger beckons.My choice is to turn away.It is a mistake.

Feet sandaled with dreams tread paths of vision leading to wisdom’s sharp peaks.

Some believe they can, Some believe that they cannot. Both are clearly right

Summer grasses,All that remainsOf soldiers’ dreams

Dreams like a podcast,Downloading truth in my ears.They tell me cool stuff.””Apollo?” I guess, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.He put his finger to his lips. “I’m incognito. Call me...

Stars ink your fingerswith a lexicon of flameblazing rare knowledge.