Flash Fiction Challenge: Three Haikus Tell One Story
Last week’s challenge: “Choose Your Motif“
The haiku.
Three lines in syllables of 5 / 7 / 5.
You’re going to use the haiku form to tell a story.
I’ll be nice: you can have three haikus to tell that story.
Hew to the 5 / 7 / 5 structure — yes, there are other permutations of the haiku form, but we’re going to go with the base level structure we all know and love from English class.
This week has a prize:
If you win, I’ll toss you a copy of each of my writing-related e-books. That’s both Penmonkey books and all four of my “lists of 25″ books (starting with 250 Things).
You’ll get those e-books in PDF format.
You have till next Friday to post your three-haiku story in the comments below. That is to say, by February 8th at noon EST. You get only one entry, so choose well. (Multiple entries will disqualify all entries.)
I’ll choose my favorite the week following.
Now go forth and haiku the hell out of this place.
Or, rather:
The terribleminds
haiku challenge is now live
for you to conquer
EDIT: Winners!
THREE WINNERS, DECLARED. I know, I said one but c’mon. This was a very, very hard challenge to judge. Because so many good options. Sooooo many. Anyway. The three winners:
UrsulaV!
Valerie Valdes!
and…
Spenschwartz!
CONGRATS, HOOMANS.
Hit me up at terribleminds at gmail dot com, if you please.
– c.
Josh Loomis
February 4, 2013 at 7:39 AM //
My cat ate a gem.
It belonged to a smuggler.
Now we’re in big trouble.
The chase was merry,
From Rome to Moscow to Prague -
Bond would be jealous.
“Don’t touch my damn cat.”
Gunsmoke behind the tavern –
Sorry ’bout the mess.
itsfamilyjules
February 4, 2013 at 3:09 PM //
Made me smile
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:44 PM //
Agreed.
jreinmiller
February 4, 2013 at 9:57 AM //
A small room, one door.
A chair wedged under the knob.
They are right outside.
Hard knocks, clawing hands.
Pounding, shuffling, moaning.
Reanimated.
The door, is breaking.
There are two of us left now.
We have one bullet.
itsfamilyjules
February 4, 2013 at 3:21 PM //
Very nice!
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:43 PM //
leaving with tension. I like it.
joeturner87
February 4, 2013 at 10:34 AM //
Here’s Mine, I’ll also post it on my blog.
I call it, Lucifer…
His way was weakness.
“Sheep, shepherd thyselves.”
I accused him meek.
Assemble my allies.
Said; “We shall take what is ours!”
Dethrone the almighty.
Beat by his forces.
Exile; Banished from heaven.
Son of the Morning.
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:47 PM //
Good job distilling such a big topic into 51 syllables. Ultra concentrated.
joeturner87
February 6, 2013 at 3:43 AM //
Thanks, Sam.
Corey Fields
February 4, 2013 at 10:50 AM //
Shadow of the pen
Haunts the page before my eyes
Hand trembles with fear
Trickles of sweat fall
Staining the paper like blood
Inspiration sparks
Words fly forth like wind
Stories told that never were
My eternity
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:48 PM //
Very nice job.
itsfamilyjules
February 4, 2013 at 3:11 PM //
Across the airshaft
His soul entered her window
Every day for weeks
Doing her own thing
She took no notice of him
In his mind they meshed
He cried, “Destiny!”
At a coffee shop one day
She laughed and he died
onethemis
February 7, 2013 at 10:18 PM //
Hmm, I like it. It leaves so many possibilities.
Eva T
February 4, 2013 at 3:40 PM //
Rising from the sea
A tentacular horror
Aeons old madness
Wants souls to devour
Mad cultists to worship it
But flees back beneath
People smiled and
took photos, called it awesome.
No-one was scared.
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:53 PM //
Very cool. Funny. The first one can stand alone.
James Gill
February 4, 2013 at 3:43 PM //
It began slowly
Words, pentagrams, then daggers
Finally, a kiss.
Inseparable
Who knew a demon and girl
Could fit so perfect?
Immortality
To the netherworld returned
I live, but her bones grow cold
itsfamilyjules
February 4, 2013 at 7:24 PM //
I like this a lot. Sounds like it would make a cool short story!
normalitybytes
February 4, 2013 at 4:25 PM //
Formidable quest
Bestowed upon small course hands.
The others want it.
Mountains, forests, hills
He will guide you on your way
But he wants it too.
Up, up, up the crag
Destroy the gold band they want.
It is gone. And peace.
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:55 PM //
My precioussss.
Elemley
February 6, 2013 at 7:01 PM //
Haha
Janna G. Noelle
February 4, 2013 at 5:03 PM //
What’s in those mountains?
Night winds whip down in whispers –
Words of anguish, pain,
Solitude. Up now
I struggle, falter; suffer
My own sorrows no
Longer echoes heard
Below. Now the hills lean close,
Listening. Silent.
Beth L.
February 4, 2013 at 11:21 PM //
Coming home quite late
Streets are empty, dark, and cold
Stranger waits inside
She’s unsafely in
when the light left burning shows
Red words on her wall
Urban legend, that.
Unless the house in question
Is yours, and a trap
Sam Hume
February 4, 2013 at 11:36 PM //
Machine gun cries out
on the pacific; two men
never return home
Sam Hume
February 4, 2013 at 11:53 PM //
Sirens are ringing,
go inside, turn off the lights
pray to God and wait.
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 9:06 PM //
We storm the gray beach
the man beside me is gone
lost, blown to pieces.
clayanddust
February 5, 2013 at 12:20 AM //
Evil moves eastward
And the farmers who love peace
Become warriors
She hides among them
A girl with the heart of ten
To fight alongside
And though she dies, pierced,
On a field green and crimson
Her nation lives on
Jed Thomas
February 5, 2013 at 7:46 AM //
Lonely, regretful
A chance from an ancient man
To relive my life
Ahead of my time
Nose bleeds, headaches, amnesia
A doppelgänger
Murder suicide
When the two timelines converge
Wasted second chance
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 9:08 PM //
Ooo. Time travel?
jedthomas409
February 10, 2013 at 1:58 PM //
Yes! It’s a poetic distillation of the novel I’m working on. Thanks for reading!
Mike Goodale
February 5, 2013 at 12:34 PM //
The Crab’s New Home
A fight to the death.
It was the choice that it made.
I hate snails anyway.
Retracting, hiding,
The shell could not protect it.
It would soon be mine.
It died by my claw,
I pulled it from my new shell.
Dinner and a home.
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:57 PM //
Neat.
victoryrock
February 5, 2013 at 1:31 PM //
Squirrel makes a home
Rafters echo with thumping
Man detests the noise
Man wants squirrel gone:
Squirrel out, hole blocked; Quiet!
Squirrel shivers, cold.
Garage roof, by chance?
Squirrel finds hole, makes a home.
Man accepts small truce.
Taylor Emblen (@Taylor_Emblen)
February 5, 2013 at 6:26 PM //
The first time I screw up the courage to post on the challenge and it’s haiku?! Awesome! Here goes:
‘A Chance Encounter’
A thumping bass line
Shock waves through a crowded floor
Eyes meet, a force pulls
Small talk and big drinks
She sips, laughs so prettily
Hair and eyes glint, dim
Cold tiles, fast pleasure
Bright her eyes now; my throat torn
Death tastes like cheap booze
Sam Hume
February 5, 2013 at 8:42 PM //
I like that the first haiku by itself tells a story. That one could stand alone.
Taylor Emblen (@Taylor_Emblen)
February 6, 2013 at 7:00 AM //
Ah many thanks! In some ways having three haiku to use made it a bit harder I thought.
Sam Hume
February 6, 2013 at 7:15 PM //
I thought so too, mine ended up more like three individuals rather than one coherent stream.
Shirley
February 5, 2013 at 9:50 PM //
I finally finished one on time! But then, I fucking love haiku.
Winged man, angelic
Lies on the ground, broken wing
Her heart skips a beat
He’s still unconscious
While she cleans and tends his wounds
Her heart fills with love
Angel man awakes
Shoos her aside like a mouse, leaves
Her heart is broken
Karen
February 6, 2013 at 8:40 AM //
I just ran five miles
Following your bubble butt
Shimmy jiggle bounce
No whippet you, no
You are curves, you are woman
Sweaty lycra booty, pounds
Pavement, dirt and grass
Go you glorious round ass
J Lo’s got nothing.
Sam Hume
February 6, 2013 at 7:16 PM //
HA!
Brittany Melson
February 6, 2013 at 4:20 PM //
Richard, I miss you
And your little dog Henry
Who had hemorrhoids.
Remember that day
You almost severed your toe
And left a blood trail?
If you’re in heaven,
I hope you meet the babies
You lost with your wife.
Sam Hume
February 6, 2013 at 7:17 PM //
ooo. Poignant. That last line hit hard.
welltemperedwriter
February 6, 2013 at 5:58 PM //
After the last storm
The government moved us all
But he would not go.
And then the seas rose
As he sat on his front porch
Thinking about arks.
When the spaceship came
He thought of gods in machines
It was an ark, too.
Elemley
February 6, 2013 at 6:59 PM //
A diagnosis
Decisions. An incision.
Scars and hope remain.
Kristi Rhodes
February 7, 2013 at 10:18 AM //
Twenty years of love,
A marriage can end quickly.
Blame tossed like hotcakes.
He made a baby,
Another was the mother
Dishes were broken
She wore red, sunk eyes
Then a new hairdo, lace bra,
Cowboy eased her pain
brandil79
February 7, 2013 at 10:38 AM //
Haiku, eh? I’m game. Here we go.
Every small bubble
A world unto itself whole
drifting on a breeze
A sudden vortex
Glimmering swirling terror
See the quiet turn
The shiny globe sighs
Bursting out into the ‘verse
The dishes are done
Douglas Knight
February 7, 2013 at 10:53 AM //
Time for a small tale,
About an Outlaw of Olde.
Leader, Merry Men.
He’d rob from the Rich,
And present gift to the Poor.
Hero of the Land.
Prince of Thieves? Maybe.
But before you praise Robin,
Daffy Duck was best. (http://youtu.be/TJ5GlGEuONA)
Carey B
February 7, 2013 at 10:56 AM //
My favorite way to haiku!
I hear a scritch-scratch
From the far darkened corner
Here kitty kitty
Where has kitty gone
And why do I smell copper
Scritch-scratching again
Trembling I creep close
Pull back the heavy curtains
Oh sweet Jesus no
M1ssShakespeare
February 7, 2013 at 11:51 AM //
Dug Leicester Car Park
Summer last, King Richard III
Remains discovered!
Valerie Valdes (@valerievaldes)
February 7, 2013 at 12:55 PM //
Dark highway uncoils
like a movie’s final reel.
Handcuff chafes my wrist.
Gored cop hails Mary.
“Copycat,” they said; murders
plagiarized from films.
Sirens, lights and dust
usher in my last homage:
Thelma and Louise.
Sunita Pillay
February 7, 2013 at 1:37 PM //
an orange jumpsuit
handcuffed to his seat, shackled
on the prison bus
eyeing wildflowers
on the highway side, untamed
by pots and pruning
watching the sunset
for the first time, a marble
fiery and pink
Stephen McClurg
February 7, 2013 at 1:54 PM //
Anniversary
At sunrise you leave
and leave me silence, a key,
a torn, empty page.
Half a page that cleaves;
Half a life later for me
and rather than rage
I walk in dry leaves.
My book falls, opens. I see
your name on each page.
onethemis
February 7, 2013 at 10:44 PM //
I still use the clapping method to check syllables
The book is opened
Words spill, flutter, languish, flow
They have all escaped
Who will chase them down?
Sorry unlucky hero
No spellcheck for you
Know their every curve
Secret nooks and hidden tales
Stuff them back inside
Andy
February 7, 2013 at 10:47 PM //
Rich and poor alike
Tourists aplenty on board
A 3 hour tour
Fearless and lucky
The crew fights nature’s fury
Tiny ship was tossed
Primitive island
Seven stranded castaways
New adventure weekly
Andy
February 7, 2013 at 10:53 PM //
Sometimes, one just will not do.
Bush above hides me
Furry tail too obvious
I am weak, but fast
Pavement narrow here
Tasty nuts on other side
I can make it, sure!
Shadow crosses over
Claws screeching out of the air
Holy fuck, Batman!
jay wolf
February 7, 2013 at 11:45 PM //
In Triplicate
She sinks into the
tub, submerging a life’s worth
of grief and regret.
Soap and water rinse
off only the surface grime;
deeper stains remain.
The divorce papers,
in triplicate, wait for ink
from unstained fingers.
Brooke
February 8, 2013 at 12:38 AM //
He busts in the door,
the gun already drawn, but
it’s too late; she’s gone.
Only a matchbook –
The Sapphire – and a fading
scent – jasmine, maybe.
He sighs, holstering
the revolver. At least he
knows where to look next.
Erik
February 8, 2013 at 2:31 AM //
A Suicide Note
I showed her the note
It was written by her hand
A suicide note
She was still alive
I wanted answers from her
“Where did you find that?”
In her old suitcase
At the charity center
A six month old note
Carrie
February 8, 2013 at 7:07 AM //
Cannot leave this room
But don’t worry about me
I don’t feel a thing
Thirty years ago
He killed mama in this room
Didn’t feel a thing
Someday he’ll return
I’ll be here waiting for him
He won’t feel a thing
Sara
February 8, 2013 at 8:17 AM //
Suffocating night
Two eyes peer from deep shadow
Waitress locking up
Screech of train nags her
Echo of footsteps gaining
Winded awareness
Stalker claws forward
She gasps as train door swooshes
Her tail has a tail
Andrew S. Phillips
February 8, 2013 at 8:29 AM //
I must hold the line.
Behind me there is only void,
Nothing can survive.
Yet it’s still alive.
“Position compromised.”
I tell the H.Q.
The adults are dead,
But inside me one awakes.
And I must hold the
M E Lucas
February 8, 2013 at 9:09 AM //
Sun shining brighter
Spring, long time overdue, arrives
Warmth massaging face
Winter depression
Away with Vitamin D
Ideas formulate
Inspiration bound
Muse returning for guidance
Onward to summer
KELLY
February 8, 2013 at 9:22 AM //
http://blueridgeandrv.blogspot.com/2013/02/my-story-in-3-hiakus_8.html
Two youngsters find love
Over a lonely lunch tray
While another longs
Obsession with her
He uses lies and tactics
To drive them apart
But love still happens
Inside middle school walls
Because first love lasts
Belly Peterson
February 8, 2013 at 9:31 AM //
jingles echoing through darkness
giant shoes tapping
Jingles puts on his makeup
cigarette burning
he opens a drawer
removes a vial, syringe
wets the needle’s tip
he’s eager to play
bulb of his spitting corsage
filled with sweet poison
-Belly Peterson
Ade Smith
February 8, 2013 at 9:41 AM //
Running from danger
Trying my best to survive
Blurring the future
A flurry of pain
Blood smeared blade grins my way
The world now blurring
Stumbling consciousness
Looking for help where theres none
Black void beckoning
Jeanne B.
February 8, 2013 at 9:57 AM //
Tantrum
Story betrayed Russ.
He pouted, threw down, shouted,
“Stories are not real.
“They do not matter,
Dressed-up lies for children’s eyes.”
Story stayed silent,
Hurting but content.
Russ can go catch twenty-two,
As Story abides.
Celine Zhu
February 8, 2013 at 9:58 AM //
Uncle Sungei, look!
The white egrets are leaving!
Is your grass not sweet?
Summer calls them north.
While my beard grows greenly wild,
Egrets will return.
Uncle Sungei! Why
Is your beard shaved – the fields paved?
Are the egrets late?
RebeccaH83
February 8, 2013 at 10:19 AM //
“I cannot write it
until it is complete here.”
He pokes his temple.
She bites back her sigh
and merely nods. It will
fall to her, of course.
Nothing is ever
written in this house until
she picks up her pen.
Avri Burger (@ABurgerADay)
February 8, 2013 at 10:21 AM //
It happened like this:
One moment they weren’t here,
And the next, they were.
The invaders came,
They saw, they conquered, and then
They laid down and died.
In just an eye’s blink
We were defeated. Again.
CONTINUE? YES / NO
Megan Paasch
February 8, 2013 at 10:36 AM //
Knick-knacks from their shelves
tumbled with each violent shake.
No common quake, this.
From the bric-a-brac
littering the old shop floor,
Several inches deep,
A tiny hand rose.
Another, and another…
The figurines lived.
Tina
February 8, 2013 at 11:01 AM //
Outside my window
was a nightmarish creature
lurking in the dark.
Can’t be what it seems…
evil in my own backyard…
staring back at me.
Chill runs down my spine,
realize just a reflection.
It’s right behind me!!
Joy Bernardo
February 8, 2013 at 11:24 AM //
“Follow the Clues”
Smokey-eyed silhouette
The curvy distraught wife asks
“Who killed my husband?”
I follow wild geese
I wait as the cards unfold
Dice roll on the board
Not Colonel Mustard
In the kitchen, with the pipe
It was the butler
terribleminds
February 11, 2013 at 8:37 PM //
THREE WINNERS, DECLARED. I know, I said one but c’mon. This was a very, very hard challenge to judge. Because so many good options. Sooooo many. Anyway. The three winners:
UrsulaV!
Valerie Valdes!
and…
Spenschwartz!
CONGRATS, HOOMANS.
Hit me up at terribleminds at gmail dot com, if you please.
– c.