The haiku just might be my favorite art form. Fast and fun.
Each haiku consists of three lines: the first line has five syllables, the second has seven syllables, the last has five syllables. Nature often makes an appearance in haiku, and the last line usually holds something of the unexpected, a little twist. I like haiku because it’s a populist art form. Nothing fancy needed. Not much time required.
We ask our DogCanyon readers to write a haiku in the “comments” section down below. We want to see your handiwork.
biking through night streets
city rising around me
gin hums in my veins
cold blue-green water
old man in a t-back thong
he smiles right at me
more haiku at the jump….
hipster in tight pants
wanders Congress Avenue
you’re not from here, son
she steps out her door
evaporated swamp air
summer almost here
Now it’s your turn, readers. Write a haiku for us in the “comments” section below. Show your stuff!
sitting in my house
eating hot dogs with Big Red
bird flies through the door
morning downward dog
stretching out my old stiff calves
better than coffee
Things I used to do
Springs, lone star, shows, old blue jeans
Robbed by the hipsters
take a look around
we should not blame the hipsters
for our poor values
Shepard to Lost Sheep
What’s your twenty Boys, come back
Cuff ‘em n stuff ‘em
Spring time around here
means fixing the sprinklers
mud from head to toe.
Nowhere more lonely
than in bed next to my wife.
Quiet and sadness.
Finding the balance;
juggling kids, work and writing.
Fun and exhausting!
The stage is darkened.
There is no one to say where
The actors have gone.
The new Tea Party.
Domestic terrorists
or selfish fools?
Alarm! House on fire!
Sirens wail, lights flash, let’s go!
Whoops, backyard cookout.
It’s spring time again
and it’s thong time for Leslie
my half-assed haiku
No Dog blogs lately
Glenn doesn’t call anymore
does poetry count?
I’m by the levees
New Orleans is bluesy:
The Mississippi
Serious film this
man’s existential folly.
Plus, I saw side boob.
What movie is that?
side boob is one solution
to the angst of life
New York theatre really rocks
Small houses seem much better
Than Texas’ theatre caves
missing tejas some real bad
mostly angels y
a boy named Niko nomas
The sunlight can’t seem
to quite make it to the ground
broken in the trees
She argues with him
Turning, he has no words, then
Voices through the door
My dog is snoring
next to me on the sofa
I wish it was night
best austin spring fling
was eeyore’s birthday party
it’s illegal now
whiskeydent is wrong
he needs to write some damnyon
blogs for dog canyon
a blanket of blue
all across the countryside
bluebonnets grow wild
Dad wrote some haiku.
Got him in that Woordward book.
The son, not so much.
looking at the porch
scratching dog and napping cat
occupy my seat
friday movie night
pirate radio is up
cute boys with accents
Normally I jump
All over writing Haiku
Today I’m too tired.
Believe Colt McCoy
Your time will come soon enough
Patience will pay off
What will Texans do
Far away from Ohio
Colt McCoy’s a Brown
Socks in the washroom
Bare feet in the desert sun
Ya no hay tan line
Cackle Squawk Hen Talk
Lay’n Time Eggs Jes Fine. Who
Say Haiku Not Rhyme?
Soto pots glass tiles
Art posters Trollop novels
Marfa garage sale
Free Cell goto hell
Waste all my time all the time
Free Cell goto hell
speckled hens chasing
grasss hoppers in dew wet grass
can’t see the falcon.
What color my man
What color is your bird man
My bird is yellow
Streek and Rooster strip
enter the nudist resort
oops! it’s toga night
an imaginative piece. voila!
burgeoning stomach
mama rests hands on belly
feels flutter of life
nightfall in Fort Worth
pj-clad boy jumps on bed
refusing to sleep
boltino grumbles
then the hot llama pours out
careful! it’s hot!
Coyote shot dead
The Gov runs with his Ruger
Must be a campaign