|
| |
my_haiku
|
|
|
kerry
|
glassy flowers stare
silence rests on monarch wings
blooming fuschia stars
|
020425
|
| |
... |
|
|
Sailor Jupiter
|
The moon is setting
leaving me one wake being
alone with the stars
|
020425
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob
|
what i hate most a
bout you is that i wasted
all of my passion
|
020425
|
| |
... |
|
|
sweetheart of the song tra bong
|
flowers bloom, birds chirp
boys and girls walk hand in hand
I am not bitter
Springtime haiku.
|
020425
|
| |
... |
|
|
Daria
|
i remember i hated nature so, this is what I turned in:
I went on a hike
i saw a tarantula
i didn't like it
|
020426
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob
|
oh daria, we should write haikus about our orgies together. did you notice i didnt write one about nature either
|
020426
|
| |
... |
|
|
Daria
|
I love to fuck you
hot pudding is erotic
so is cheese fondue
|
020430
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob
|
the taste of you is
making me realize i am
hooked relentlessly
|
020430
|
| |
... |
|
|
Daria
|
no, that's just the fondue
|
020501
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob
|
fondue on my nip-
ples is making me drool on
your sweaty body
|
020506
|
| |
... |
|
|
Daria
|
ohh, drool is so sexy
especialy from Bobby
and Jay Gordon too
|
020506
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob loves you
|
your tongue on mine
is like wet hot sex butter
i like to suck it
ive never said this
i can suck my own dick
i do it a lot
|
020506
|
| |
... |
|
|
happy early mothers day
|
peaches fused with cream
strawberries and bananas
for heaven's sake, no!
|
020506
|
| |
... |
|
|
werewolf
|
wine dark steep waters
framing fine tuned grains of warmth.
Both share the same storm.
|
020515
|
| |
... |
|
|
phil
|
green grass stain tan line
stain glass reflecting above
sun shine yellow cloud
|
020515
|
| |
... |
|
|
Daria
|
phil doesn't make sense
rambling on and on and on
It's almost sexy
|
020520
|
| |
... |
|
|
jane
|
so very sexy
why did this blather get all
masturbational
|
020607
|
| |
... |
|
|
jane
|
I.
you manipulate
the magnolias and me
invade my tulips
II.
my words fall like soft
raindrops, filling the air with
fresh, poetic sounds
III.
dew draws lines on her
petals, magnifying a
sharpness in her lines
IV.
it does thrust itself
up in the rich orange sky
like hands it reaches
V.
filled with scent of spice
and vanilla and violets
hope is nutmeg peach
VI.
red poppies they bleed
they are mad at the full moon
for stealing their tint
|
020612
|
| |
... |
|
|
jane
|
you are making me
fall to pieces with your words
i'm melting inside
|
090123
|
| |
... |
|
|
minnesota_chris
|
ok so I didn't write this, but:
Haikus are easy
but sometimes they don't make sense
refrigerator
|
090125
|
