Haiku fight

It’s been a good day so far. I was sick yesterday, but am better already. I was up early this morning, and participated in social relations. I came home to write a paper this afternoon, while that was underway, got into a duel of haiku with a loved one.

your praises are better than nicotine. if i ever feel a dire need to quit
I’ll just ask you to send me a haiku whenever I want a cigarette

Singularity
Running from the painted cave
To shellac the soul

Tea reminds us of
Bitter sacrifice. And how
Grass is more humble
More than we will ever be
Ah, the taste of memories!

Art thou that thou art?
Maybe thou art that art thou.
You, synthesize me.

func(identity)
global values don’t exist
know thyself through me

OK, the second example is really a tanka, but that’s awesome. Does seem a little like bringing a gun to a knife fight, though.

I recently learned that one of my role models, upon waking, every single day—or so he claims—writes a sonnet. And these sonnets are often pure gold, from what I’ve read. So maybe I’ll make a habit out of fighting in haiku.

I’ll wake in sonnets, dream in ghazals, hunger in villanelle.