Running with palms cupped,
cradling the delicate
water seeping through.
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In two thousand eight, seven (or so) people got together for the sake of getting together. And doing something. They decided to write a haiku a day (or as close as possible) to one another, to the world, to whomever. Enjoy.
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2008
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October
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- Belle Glade
- Although...
- Oh, and it was fun.
- poetry
- That one, not this one...
- Running with palms cupped,cradling the delicatewat...
- radicals in thekitchen. communists in thehall. me ...
- Not a euphemism.
- Do not what I saygood leadership imitatesall that ...
- the sunday clouds keepback the heat. today is good...
- Stanzas and minutes.
- The face she made wasakin to when you're tastingpi...
- i know i'm young still,but do i have enough yearst...
- she comes to in dreams,pockets of fluff she's made...
- In City Slickers,Crystal is prophet, "Yourtwenties...
- she still controls me,she still comes to mind when...
- And in my basket, vanity.
- "quantum of solace."what on god's green earth? is ...
- As he always does,the loneliest, luckiestman alway...
- girlfriend got sick fromno a/c. makes me glad mine...
- Telling our story,the good, the bad, the ugly,Lack...
- the endless comingsand goings of karma areenough t...
- Analyzationbrings identity to theones often ignored.
- Toll paid.
- peter said i shouldwrite a haiku. sorry i'msuch a ...
- Falling behind to learn how to catch up.
- Uncomfortable,indifferent in your eyes,inconsequen...
- Sipping late night tea,falling asleep to Nixon,lik...
- My mind's packed away,for it looks like I will bed...
- i read my notes: "sun-shine red something i can't ...
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October
(30)
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