I know I don't fall into that category, but I'm not near as good as I used to be. I suppose being your own worst critic and growing self conscious have something to do with that. In any event, we'll give this a whirl and hope it doesn't suck too hard.
I stood in the rain
As the drops fell from the sky
They cooled my hot skin
Water danced on leaves
Falling gently to the ground
A calming rhythm
Rain water mingled
With the sweat upon my brow
My heart filled with joy
Looking at the stars
Peeking through the wispy clouds
Shining in darkness
A smile on my lips
While marveling at the joy
Of simplicity
Was never really that great at haiku in school... mostly because the vocabulary wasn't as good as it is now. In some ways, it's a cop-out because it's so freakin' easy to write. I don't admire many poets, wasn't ever into poetry much past junior high. I can appreciate Robert Frost, ee cummings, Shel Silverstein, those folks. Never liked Shakespeare, still don't. After reading Jack London, John Steinbeck, Hemingway, Bradbury and so on, I grew fond of sparse writing and great storytelling. Mark Twain is a great story teller, but shit, the language you have to wade through to get to the point. I digress.
When I did write poetry, it was free form -- no structure, very stream-of-consciousness. The editor in me won't let me do that any more. It has to make sense. That's why journalism ruined me for that sort of thing. Haiku is structured, but I don't have to worry about rhyming, couplets, things like A-B-A, sonnets or how many verses. I can write as much or as little as I want. Word choice is key. I like that, I like the economy of writing haiku.
I'm ambivalent about what I wrote. The first two lines came to me when I was walking Scott to the truck tonight. It was a pleasant, gentle rain and a nice change from the heat indoors (AC doesn't work worth a shit here). It struck me as poetic, so here it is.
I can only hope it doesn't bore my limited readership.
balanced
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