Slow algorithm,
His languid computer soars.
Lost wave, lost machine

Pixellated beach,
His mournful explosion swims.
Weird tree, odd function

Apathy grips me
Seventeen syllables man?
Suck my big fat cock!

Black apparatus,
This random monitor shines.
Blunt brook, low colour

Some old, not jagged,
Keith comes to the hard function.
Her red chaos sings.

Far, confused, dying,
No one arises. The dude climbs,
Retiring, climbing.

Not dead, but grotesque,
Diane comes to the planet.
My blue colour spins.

Slightly tight, but dark,
Sheila hears entire quick barks.
Raging, it withdraws.

Marching towards the
future. Leaving the history
way back in the dust

History repeats
itself; That's one of the things
wrong with history


- Thanks to Clarence Darrow
for the inspiration

puppies procreate
glaciers capture roughly, blunt
bat smiling lions

Hunted rain clashes.
Badly, the your knights carouse.
Stupidity walks.

A strange profile sings.
Flowers hate the burned arrows.
Gold feared hairs retire.

The dogs leave wonder.
A perfumed duet returns.
The unknown fish work.

Just had four days off
We spent it avoiding God
Another Easter

And what happened next
Tales
Of Sodom and Gom.

Betty, whose girl was it
Am curious to know
Was it you hon

busily submit
even when there's nothing there
non-product.moment

machines for haiku
a new movement is growing
replace all the ads

Beautiful mix tape
culminated tonight with
finger in the bum

All healthy living.
Natural ingredients.
I eat cannibals.

I am what I am.
What you see is what you get.
Take it or leave it.

Breakfast is the most
important meal of the day.
Twinkies and Tang: served!

Today is the last
day of the rest of your life.
You think about that.

The pressure is on.
What will be your last words? Mine:
"I feel so alive!

there's nothing too loose
when you've got nothing to lose
tighten it, anon

shocking puppetry
wiki was there before you
leaving no holds barred

With my hand up there,
you are my "kermit the frog."
Now squeal like a pig.

Ryan holds the buns.
We whip them at Mrs. Smith
from across the yard.

Cat smells like old rug.
Matted fur peers from my steak,
and this I now purge.

World's best song title?
Umm ... "Jesus Built My Hotrod."
Thank you, Ministry.

I should have told you
Ash, that i added that word
to your fib poem
:-)

The birds have attacked
Just like in the Hitchcock films
No mercy on plants

Another season
The Leafs sucking for all time
Poor old Mats Sundin

Trade Liberty for
Security, and you get
neither of them George


- Thanks to Ben Franklin (1706-1790)
for the inspiration for this Haiku.

how for to go there
it's really fundamental
place to place and back

whether tis nobler
in the mind to suffer the
slings and arrows of ...

what then shall we do
if there is nothing left and
nothing left to loose

Another day and
another dollar or so
the story is told

How to write haiku
it's pretty fundamental
to this existence

New.
Nice.
Growing
dimension
creativity.
Here's a tribute to Crimson Mind.

Thanks
Ash
Janis
Your kind words
About the Fib-ku
Were very appreciated

albino squirrel,
with a tiny light sabre,
sits on the brown rock.

I do feel sorry--
someone forgot to tell you
white guys dont wear dreads.

There is no right way
to say
poop.

Cool moon lit night
On fjords edge Erica stands
Dressed in wonder and awe

I feel
I die

Reese's pieces: yum
In my stomach: unstable
Rad'ate: glucose death

Your wry sacrilege
Will make a pithy magnet
For my Kenmore fridge

blasphemy is wrong
we're all going to rot in hell
when we die laughing