Hoosier Poet

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Troubles

Waves of nausea
hit me one after the next,
Tonight will be rough...

Ancient

Every ache and pain
feels like it could be the end
when you hit forty...

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day
to the women who bore us,
our first lasting loves.

Liberating

Clearing the garage,
trying to let go of hard,
to not try is worse.

Puffery

I am oft amused
at those who view silent folks
as safe to abuse.

Killdeer

We slowly walk up

against momma bird's protests

to peak at her eggs.

Responding

“How you call the trash you write Haiku?

These are not about nature, or seasons!

You know it’s appropriation, don’t you?

Stick to forms written by Europeans!”

Some amusing feedback received today,

reworded from its original source

to fit this poem, and yet still convey

their stance (made anonymously, of course).

I adore the form, unlike Kerouac,

I enjoy its discipline and the thrill

of finding perfect words in which to stack

to capture a moment, to prove it real.

Though my Haiku may vary in subject,

I hold its artists with utmost respect.