By Smaktakula
Because We’re All About Overly-Structured Ancient Art Forms.
Another Anthem For Doomed Youth (Apologies to Wilfred Owen) or What I Saw At Albertsons The Other Day
Flanked by grandparents
a pregnant teen stumbles past
lost in her iPad.
Enjoy That iPad, Honey. That’s About As Good As It’s Gonna Get For The Next Two Decades.
I.
When you aren’t around
That’s when the shit goes down.
Life’s peripheral.
II.
Nothing in this world
will keep from me the knowledge
that you are not here.
Oh Yeah, We Can Be As Schmaltzy As A Fucking Hallmark When We Put Our Minds To It.
III.
Love brings to life joy
and death its awful lesson.
Sweet hope sustains us.
IV.
Failure’s Epitaph:
I knew I couldn’t beat them
and so I didn’t.
It Can Be Liberating To Finally Realize That Even The Almighty Regards You As Something Of A Punchline.
On My Transcendent Awesomeness
I am so damn cool
that I have made language itself my bitch, enabling me to pack this sucker with more syllables than would traditionally be allowed in
proper haiku form.
It’s So Very True. But You Already Knew That, Didn’t You?
Your mastery of the ancient artform is complete.
Can’t wait for you to set this to lute music.
Feeling reluctantly philosophical this afternoon?
I’m always feeling reluctantly philosophical. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always come across.
Reblogged this on A Spoonful of Suga and commented:
Poetic and funny
Reblogged this on A Spoonful of Suga and commented:
funny and poetic at the same time
Very touching, Smak. My favorites are haiku IV and the last one. And since you live in California I’m going to overlook that Dodgers cap.
Blue is beautiful, hater!
I agree. Navy, Yankee-pinstripe blue!
&%($@#^ the Yankees! Twice.
Well, maybe not all of them, but at least half of the roster, probably.
That Russell Martin is a cutie!
Right?? Although he’s no Jorge Posada…
Whoever d’cided
To fuse math with poetry
Have learned to count first.
Or he could have used apostrophes. Haha! I especially like the cheesiness of number two.
No one wields the apostrophe like you! It’s a weapon in your hands.
I am also partial to IV. It speaks to my inner slacker- that little voice in the back of my head that keeps asking me what in the hell is the point.
Oh yeah:
The point of life is this-
Work hard die young
Sisters fight over used underwear
My sisters are the type of petty old women- like my twin great-aunts- who will fight over my worthless stuff, simply because they can.
I should have this put on the plaque that will go on the urn that will hold my cremains, (cremation is cheaper and makes more sense) if Steve-o doesn’t decide to go as cheap as he can and just use an old Folger’s can that he will later confuse with an ashtray.
You’re assuming that all these people are going to outlive you. Your wit will keep you alive, if not simply to seek revenge on the rest of them.
Love the idea of your siblings fighting over the undies.
If Billy Joel is right and “only the good die young,” then I will probably live to be 140. That and if technology can repair all my faulty body parts… I could be the Bionic Bitty, and deny my oldest sister (the sadist) the sweet satisfaction of renting a U-Haul to cart off a few pairs of Hanes granny panties, some bras that are way too big for her, some shoes that are way too small, a closet full of sundresses, t-shirts and capri pants, and the crappy furniture I got between garage sales and the Salvation Army. And she is NOT getting my autographed picture of Neal Schon.
This longevity experiment could be my final revenge!
Pshh, I am the king
Of vaguely angry haikus.
Bow down and worship!
My favorite haiku has always been the one that starts “There once was a man from Nantucket.’
. . . wait, that’s not a haiku, is it? I must be thinking of sonnets.
What other than Nantucket (and maybe bucket) rhymes with ‘Suck it?’
110% awesome! (I agree)