Ye Olde Archive Archived Posts: 2004-2009


Questionably Content

Everything changed today.
You'd think I was overreacting,
that the sky had fallen,
or that I'd kissed a chicken.

The sea isn't boiling,
not yet, but even so,

everything changed today.

it will likely change again.

Filed under: love, poetic, webcomics 1 Comment

When haiku have kids.

I don't know what the plural of "haiku" is, but I refuse to say "haikus". I imagine, like geese, it could be "heeku", or perhaps "haaku" or "hiiku" (but absolutely not "hooku", which is obviously the plural for "hookah"). However, I'm going to go with the "moose" methodology instead, which remains "moose", and which stands as a testiment, when combined with "goose" and its plural, that the English language really doesn't put forth a whole lot of effort towards being consistent. And that's exactly why I love it.

In any case, here are two haiku that I wrote. Afterwards, I decided I didn't like them in haiku form (it was actually their choice and not mine), so from their loins sprung (that's a really ghastly image) the poem underneath. Actually, haiku are hermaphroditic, but will rarely spawn anything but more haiku when left on their own. When two haiku spawn together, you'll often get a poem. Haiku orgies often result in odes, ballads, sonnets in iambic pentameter, and children's songs. Don't look at me. It's the natural order! Without further ado ...


it's not too late yet;
i want conversation past midnight and
to fulfill your smile's promise.


you smile like moonlight.
fingers brush fingers.
your cheek is smudged with stardust.

it's not too late yet

it's not too late yet;
minds wrapped around distant angles,
long exposures drawn out and
sometimes so long that I become aware
of nothing but your presence beside me.

it's not too late yet;
stepping back into the night's
artificial flicker.
stars make wishes on our cities.
we hazard fingertips brushing,
too hot to be a holy palmer's kiss.

it's not too late yet;
as you smile like moonlight,
your cheek is smudged with stardust
and there's so much time left to go.

it's not too late yet;
i want conversation past midnight,
and to fulfill your smile's promise.

Filed under: love, personal, poetic 6 Comments

In the end, I couldn’t bear it.

Perhaps I'll watch that show. After the city has turned its lights off and the pre-midnight rainbow has become a sea of flashing yellow down State street, I'll huddle quietly and try to dissolve the mystery surrounding musical and television pop culture. Reality TV? Maybe, but you know it can only be real when people don't know they're being filmed, and some of these people are really, very obviously, aware of the cameras. I'll watch it though not on TV and I won't vote, but part of me is curious about this pervasive pop phenomenon. It's interesting, but I can't get past a skeptical detachment (nor do I want to). Some people spend more time communicating with this show, about this show, than they do with their children, their spouses, their books or their dreams.

Once, when we were all in black and white, television seemed so wholesome. It was a reasonable extension from the family sitting around the radio, listening to the Little Orphan Annie show, news radio, or dramatic productions of great (by "great" I mean pulp) mystery stories. Then we had Bewitched, Leave it to Beaver, I Dream of Jeanie, etc etc. The shows were limited and wholesome, the time spent in front of the television set was balanced by time reading, talking about the news, playing chess, checkers, cribbage, bridge, being a family.

[long rant deleted]

Now, huddled in the blackness as my screen flashes lightning and laugh tracks guide me, sometimes I shiver quietly, and wonder how television could have been so subtle in devouring my integrity.


One, please.

an anti v-day haiku.

lip-locked lovers at the movie;
while you made kissy face,
I ate all your popcorn.

Filed under: humor, personal, poetic 3 Comments


Happy Valentine's.

Filed under: humor No Comments