A haiku on writing little and writing late

Late and sleep beckons
Inspiration eludes me
Time for crazy dreams

Once again I have waited too late to get any kind of real writing done (it’s post-11 p.m. as I type this), and I frittered away another non-hour session by listening to the gripes and concerns of co-workers. Plus some chat about Diablo 3 because IT is, let’s face it, full of gaming nerds.

I promise to do better tomorrow. Promise!

Haiku to The Rains

We’ve had a rainfall warning the last few days, which, as you might guess, means a whole lot of rain– between 40-90 mm, depending on where exactly you are. It’s been quite wet.

The Rains

The rains fall heavy
Vehicles splash and spray me
My spirit is damp

The rain actually doesn’t bother me–this is definitely the wrong area to live if it does–and I’ve learned to avoid the areas where splashing and spraying can happen.

But I still remember that dark winter day last year when I was learning that lesson, diverting along the one block stretch of Brunette Avenue between the Sapperton SkyTrain station and my place, unable to take the much nicer hospital lane, closed (and still closed until December 2019) due to construction. This section of Brunette tends to be driven at highway speeds. I don’t know what the actual speed limit is here, but I am reasonably certain it’s not highway speed. The combination of excess water on the road and the aforementioned high speed led to me getting soaked with a great wave of water that fanned over the sidewalk. I stood for a moment, trying to register the fact that this little slice of a comedy movie had actually happened to me.

I walked on and got soaked three more times. I was very wet when I got home. In the end I found it kind of funny. And instructive. I’ve never risked the same trip along Brunette again during The Rains. The safe diversion adds two blocks to my trip, a small price to pay in exchange for not getting a metric ton of water sprayed on me at high velocity.

A haiku to the cold

The last few nights it’s dipped below freezing, a reminder that the horrors of snow are possible. Here is a haiku ?celebrating? the cold.

The temperature drops
I forget to wear my gloves
These Popsicle hands

A haiku to the summer cold

It was inevitable, really. After staying healthy for the trip earlier this month and healthy for the first week back at work, I felt a tickle in my throat yesterday afternoon that turned into a sore throat and sinuses by evening.

As I interact with other people all day–both by choice and otherwise–and live in a building where the hallway ventilation can be described as “no ventilation at all this year” I am perhaps only surprised it took this long for a cold/sore throat to latch on.

I am equipped with both DayuQuil and Nyquil. I am not taking both together, however.

The summer cold hits
Unwelcome sore throat and nose
Sickness and the sun

A haiku for a soggy summer start

The rain falls in June
I know the sun will return
Burn my arms again

Which is true. No matter what I do I always end up with some degree of sunburn on my arms, it’s like one of the laws of the universe. This year I’m using sunblock to see if my body is actually resistant to active sunburn prevention.

I will provide photographic evidence as needed in the near future to demonstrate the outcome of this.

A haiku to my knees

I don’t know about these knees.

My knees are olden
Eldritch things of days gone by
What was I saying?

No, that really doesn’t capture it. Let me try again.

These are not bees knees
They are sensitive like me
Creak like an old ship

Better. Not perfect, but good enough.

My postiest month ever

This is post #43 for January 2018. As of post #39 it became the month with the most posts since I started this blog back on February 4, 2005.

Twenty-one of the posts have been chronicling my efforts to remain complaint-free for…21 days (I complained one day and had to start over). Still, that means 22 posts have theoretically had other content in them, so I feel I’m doing reasonably well. There aren’t any real standouts this month, but neither is there anything that you’d read that would cause you to turn and run away screaming.

But because these sorts of self-indulgent posts are only interesting to me and no one at all visited the site just two days ago (sob), I’ll end with a haiku of minimal entertainment value that I shall call The Blog.

The Blog

So I made a blog
Everyone tweets somewhere else
Write into the wind

Testing the axiom “An artist must suffer for his art”

My personal life has undergone a seismic shift as of last night. Since this is a blog and not Dear Diary I’ll say no more, but if an artist must suffer for his art and I keep writing or doodling or throwing pots or engaging in some sort of creative endeavor, I will soon be producing work that’ll look touched by genius.

Just sayin’.

Let’s start with a haiku.

I did a bad thing
The consequences are due
I am a dumb guy

The genius part may build slowly over time…

Important 5-7-5 website update!

The seven posts featuring the tag “haikus” have been edited to use the tag “haiku” instead. The “haikus” tag has been shot.

Or to put it another way:

The haikus tag gone
Long live shorter haiku tag
Me write English good

Haiku for a pants-free month

I didn’t wear pants for the entire month of August. It only rained once, overnight while I was sleeping. Even the few cloudy days were warm. The smoky, hazy days were downright hot.

This calls for a haiku.

August was dry and hot
My pants would have been on fire
Solution: pants-free