Ah, yes, as a boxer, Byron knew that in those days there were no Marquess of Queensbury Rules. :D

here are 3 haiku i wrote please let me know what you all think of them:
To die in the sun
would be a greater honor
if I were still pure?

Ask about weather
What else do you have to say?
You're not even there.

Calm as hindu cows
they all watch the glowing box
Seeing the same thing.

Ooooh Haiku. How can I resist. :D

Two not by me:

In the heat
Stareing at the shade in the Blouse.

grey clouds
The snowflake falls
into the tuba

And one by me:

Celebrating strikeouts
I look over
a brother, missing.

DeSoya

Azrael: Take out the all in the second line of your third Haiku. I think it would sound better.

Casy At The Bat by Ernest Lawrenc Thayer:

It looked extremely rocky for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood two to four with but one inning left to play.
So, when Cooney died at second, and Burrows did the same,
A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest,
With that hope which springs eternal within the human breast.
For they thought: "If only Casey could get a whack at that,"
They'd put even money now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, and likewise so did Blake,
And the former was a pudd'n and the latter was a fake.
So on that stricken multitude a death-like silence sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a "single," to the wonderment of all.
And the much despised Blakey "tore the cover off the ball."
And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,
There was Blakey safe on second, and Flynn a-huggin' third.

Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell --
It bounded from the mountaintops, it rattled in the dell;
It struck upon the hillside and rebounded on the flat;
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place,
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smiled on Casey's face;
And when responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt, 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt,
five thousand toungues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then when the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance glanced in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there;
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped;
"That hain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! kill the umpire!" shouted someone from the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult, he made the game gon on;
He signalled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpired said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered, "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed;
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let the ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He punds with cruel vengeance his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in the favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville -- Mighty Casey has struck out.

DeSoya

i can't haiku has to follow strick syllable rules 5,7,5
and i have heard of 3,5,3 styles before. and even 7,10,7 but those were all written in the traditional 5 7 5 format, also check out my favorite haiku by basho in my signature

I like the Max Payne symbolics stuff. "The mercury was falling hard outside, it was as if the heavens themselves were ready to fall.

5-7-5 is a myth. It's a throwback to 70's era poetry when they thought that the 5-7-5 worked best to approximate in English a pattern that occurs naturally in Japanese. There are some people who say that you should just write 1 line haikus in English because that's how they are written in Japanese. So go.... Write Haiku and don't follow the 5-7-5. The whole idea behind the haiku is to capture a moment in a few words. In a well written one there is a twist at the end. The tuba haiku I posted is one of my favorite examples of this. If you look at Issa's haiku you'll find that not all of them bow to five seven five. I.E.

Go snail
Climb Mount Fuji
But slowly, slowly.

I hope this helps. [img]smile.gif[/img]

DeSoya

P.S. I don't think my signiture haiku follow the pattern. I never checked. A word of warning tho'. The haiku form should never spill over outside of the seventeen syllables. Seventeen or less but almost never more.

<font color=pink>The translation of my sig of course :D

By Catullus:

I hate and love, and if you ask me why,
I have no answer
But I discern,
Can feel my senses rooted in eternal torture

Hmmm...good piece of Roman poetry it is :D </font>

[ 06-26-2002, 11:40 PM: Message edited by: Lady Blue03 ]

Hey Azrael. Here's a link to a couple of good essays on Haiku. I was in a rush when I posted earlier so sorry if I sound a little condescending and terse. Not my intention.

http://www.ahapoetry.com/haiku.htm

I do really like the Basho haiku you have in your sig. It's very good.

DeSoya

Catullus was an old goat. :D

Here's a piece by Paul Beatty (no... not Warren... Paul) :D
It's one of my all time favorites...

Three Point Shot From Andromeda

rain rusted orange
ring of saturn
in urban orbit
over an outdoor gym

nighttime jumpers
pull up to the hoop
dance on the rim
bolted against a
metal backboard sky
riddled with

ninety nine thousand
BB sized holes
compressing fifth floor duplex
kitchen light
into a galaxy
of 50 watt schoolyard stars

supra flex intense constellations
handcheck
rotate on defense
double down
tryin to guard
spinning playground
planetarium delirium
of black gods flyin
on neighborhood rep
shake n bake
pump fake
jab step
past orion
walk on air
and burst a reverse
on the stellar bear

DeSoya

[ 06-28-2002, 04:07 PM: Message edited by: DeSoya ]