Haikullection — The Old

I started writing Haiku when I first got Twitter. 140 characters were just perfect. I could use the 5/7/5 and still have text left. I got so addicted to it that I could count syllables while talking, and carried a small pad around just to note them down.

When I didn’t have the pad, I’d recite the Haiku to myself, like a kid memorizing a shopping list his mother had given him, until I got something to note it down.

Here’s a selection — a Haikullection — of some of my old haiku. Order is chronological, but doesn’t really matter. They’re not traditional in the original Japanese sense, as they normally lack the seasonal reference, but I could pinpoint what made them come up, as old as some may be. You could say these are little peeks into a man’s soul.

Sometimes hearts shatter / We wish we could buy one new / But they’re not for sale.

Paradox of taste / One half bites, the other licks / I really love wine.

My cool cat Moony / Stares at me in pure dismay / She just does not drink.

Vile this emptiness / Bred from spellbound desistance / Sleep will not come now.

Lágrimas-chuva / Máscara p’ra estranhos / Com quem me cruzo.

Insomnia kills / Not medically proven / With respect, my ass.

Catsomnia pills / No frills, gives shrills, many thrills / Sysiphus-like hills.

Schizophrenia / The voices are no problem / Unless you listen.

Chirping brethren sings / Mornings full of cleanest light / Woe is he who wails.

Drench me in your sea / Of uninvited screaming / Silence does bequeath.

Dreams of happiness / Hitherto fathom this change / Or maybe just not.

If hearts had nine lives / Mine would have none left by now. / What about hairballs?

Nights like these nights like / Wondrous delights like I like / Nights like these nights, alike.

Consciousness that floats / Tumbling boats in troubled seas / Heeding drunken nymphs.

Misshapen and bent / Burdened with iniquity / Mirrors loathe of me.

Testing the calmness / Provoke and banter, fragile / Hermetic thus far.

River flowing wine / Ariadne drooping, drunk / Dreamed company.

Goddess imperfect / Twisted, finite intellect / Conceived It in swoon.

Keep dancing, circling / Unyielding — faint sorcery / Hissing Desire’s choirs.

Sweet smell of wet earth / Wishing it would cleanse it all / Dripping inside, too.

Last wood still burning / Warmth not reaching the heart’s void / Surrendered machine.

Wordplay, truth is bare / Double entendre saves face / I appeal to you.

Like honey dripping / Marvelous nectar of gods / Slipping through my tongue.

Devil whispering / Rewinding you to darkness / Sweet oblivion

Comi ‘ma pizza / Estava bem fusmada / Meti tabasco.

Poetry away / Washed into pale reverie / Sunken deep within.

Sun in your Belly / Center of Universes / Inconsiderate (fuck)

Dance of bodies twined / Love beads touching, surrender / Root myself within.

Heart on sleeve, oh my! / Bottle it up and explode? / Not an option, thanks. (Menschliches, Allzumenschliches — ich bin)

There is ebb and flow / First it giveth: it gave so / … don’t taketh away.

To four letter words / And to three word sentences / You are so banal.

A two piece jigsaw / Others fit but don’t make sense / So hard to complete.

They complete each other / Then, she must be very straight / To fit like Tetris.

They complete each other / So, he must be very big / She sells herself short.

Dancing days over / She still dances with her hands / How I love to watch.

You are my Alpha / In You I begin and end / You are my Omega.

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