Collecting Haiku

I have started collecting words.  More specifically haiku.  I am aiming to write a haiku a day.  It’ll be interesting to see how this turns out but I’m hoping it’s a vaguely achievable goal.  I was going to start it as a new years resolution but new year is an arbitrary thing so I’m starting now.  Or rather I started on Friday.


Distill. Condense. Let

The image tell a story

In a breath. Haiku.


Coastal Erosion

Wearing away at

Foundations until nothing

Remains to support


Sketches on skin mark

Your boundary.  Outline your

Existence. Tattoo.


Post it note poems

Collected on scraps. Then lost.

Unexpected breeze.


Midwinter. Nights get

Shorter, days longer. Refresh



Birds sing their morning

Song to a street lamp sun.  Dawn

Is hours away.


Map reading when the

Destination keeps changing.

Human condition.

The Finale

It’s the final week of my online writing course.  We’ve been given a list of opening lines and are free to write poetry, prose, whatever we feel like!

I’ve taken a few of these and am going to develop them a bit more but here are my initial thoughts:

Broken ghosts serenade me now

Sweet whispers beckon
On chilled breezes
Skin prickles with memories
Which no one else knows

I am the only one left

When another world has consumed
And engulfed these recollections
Will they have existed at all?

Falling down is easy

Falling is easy
Much harder to reach out and
Ask for help to stand

There are few things in this world that I despise more than a locked door.

Crashing, thumping
Getting closer
Unbearable noise
Blinding lights
Getting closer
Getting closer

I locked the door

Safe inside the emptiness
In the darkness
My sanctuary threatens
To consume me

I locked the door
Then lost the key


One of this week’s assignments is to write a haiku.  In a moment, devoid of inspiration, I asked twitter for subject ideas.  There were some interesting ones!

Being kind to each other

Moments of kindness

Can turn a day around, a

Gift that’s free to give

Irn Bru

Brought up on irn bru

Orange fizz from porcelain

I miss my granma

Why adults are always moaning about winter when it’s the best season ever

Adults moan about

Winter, embrace inner child

Grasp Christmas magic


The blue whale, a giant

Relic in our seas, bigger

Than everything else

And a couple I came up with without the help of twitter:

Short and sweet isn’t

Always better, sometimes long-

Er is beautiful


Cherry blossom falls

Confetti scattering down

To Japanese soils

 My next task is to turn these themes into children’s poems…