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.
Laura W. says:
cold splashes of white
the flower of innocence
carnation; daisy.
former mother breaks
seeing the neighbor’s daughter
braid grass in her hair.
tiny box, pale face
color kissed away by death
beautiful dead child.
February 3, 2013 — 3:50 PM
Jon says:
Never tried to tell a story in haiku before. Neat challenge! Hopefully the fact that I break lines across verses won’t count against me…
———————–
the Visitors fell,
yes, you say that i saw but
i can’t remember–
how could i lie to
a jumper cable with my
legs bound apart dear
god i would tell but
the black-jacket man had such
forgetful needles
February 3, 2013 — 5:45 PM
Vic Lewis says:
Three’s a crowd
Daisy and Ben take
Bill the new man to dinner.
Daisy covets Bill.
Ben tells Bill. He turns
flashing a porcelain smile.
Daisy is raptured.
Bill guides them to sit.
Hands on their butts – Bill squeezes.
Ben smiles. Daisy floats.
Thanks for reading
Vic
February 3, 2013 — 7:59 PM
Christopher Steffen says:
Three haikus smushed together. “Sweet Virginia Rose.”
Sweet Virginia Rose,
with lips like your name, and hips
(Oh, I miss those hips!)
like hills beneath sheets,
a landscape of boyhood dreams,
what sorrow, what pain,
what terrible thing
could have driven you to this?
“Love: I’m sorry. -Rose”
February 3, 2013 — 10:45 PM
Josh Loomis says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 7:39 AM
itsfamilyjules says:
Made me smile 🙂
February 4, 2013 — 3:09 PM
Sam Hume says:
Agreed.
February 5, 2013 — 8:44 PM
jreinmiller says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 9:57 AM
itsfamilyjules says:
Very nice!
February 4, 2013 — 3:21 PM
Sam Hume says:
leaving with tension. I like it.
February 5, 2013 — 8:43 PM
joeturner87 says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 10:34 AM
Sam Hume says:
Good job distilling such a big topic into 51 syllables. Ultra concentrated.
February 5, 2013 — 8:47 PM
joeturner87 says:
Thanks, Sam.
February 6, 2013 — 3:43 AM
Corey Fields says:
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
February 4, 2013 — 10:50 AM
Sam Hume says:
Very nice job.
February 5, 2013 — 8:48 PM
itsfamilyjules says:
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
February 4, 2013 — 3:11 PM
onethemis says:
Hmm, I like it. It leaves so many possibilities.
February 7, 2013 — 10:18 PM
Eva T says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 3:40 PM
Sam Hume says:
Very cool. Funny. The first one can stand alone.
February 5, 2013 — 8:53 PM
James Gill says:
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
February 4, 2013 — 3:43 PM
itsfamilyjules says:
I like this a lot. Sounds like it would make a cool short story!
February 4, 2013 — 7:24 PM
normalitybytes says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 4:25 PM
Sam Hume says:
My precioussss.
February 5, 2013 — 8:55 PM
Elemley says:
Haha
February 6, 2013 — 7:01 PM
Janna G. Noelle says:
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.
February 4, 2013 — 5:03 PM
Beth L. says:
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
February 4, 2013 — 11:21 PM
Sam Hume says:
Machine gun cries out
on the pacific; two men
never return home
February 4, 2013 — 11:36 PM
Sam Hume says:
Sirens are ringing,
go inside, turn off the lights
pray to God and wait.
February 4, 2013 — 11:53 PM
Sam Hume says:
We storm the gray beach
the man beside me is gone
lost, blown to pieces.
February 5, 2013 — 9:06 PM
clayanddust says:
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
February 5, 2013 — 12:20 AM
Jed Thomas says:
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
February 5, 2013 — 7:46 AM
Sam Hume says:
Ooo. Time travel?
February 5, 2013 — 9:08 PM
jedthomas409 says:
Yes! It’s a poetic distillation of the novel I’m working on. Thanks for reading!
February 10, 2013 — 1:58 PM
Mike Goodale says:
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.
February 5, 2013 — 12:34 PM
Sam Hume says:
Neat.
February 5, 2013 — 8:57 PM
victoryrock says:
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.
February 5, 2013 — 1:31 PM
Taylor Emblen (@Taylor_Emblen) says:
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
February 5, 2013 — 6:26 PM
Sam Hume says:
I like that the first haiku by itself tells a story. That one could stand alone.
February 5, 2013 — 8:42 PM
Taylor Emblen (@Taylor_Emblen) says:
Ah many thanks! In some ways having three haiku to use made it a bit harder I thought.
February 6, 2013 — 7:00 AM
Sam Hume says:
I thought so too, mine ended up more like three individuals rather than one coherent stream.
February 6, 2013 — 7:15 PM
Shirley says:
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
February 5, 2013 — 9:50 PM
Karen says:
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.
February 6, 2013 — 8:40 AM
Sam Hume says:
HA!
February 6, 2013 — 7:16 PM
Brittany Melson says:
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.
February 6, 2013 — 4:20 PM
Sam Hume says:
ooo. Poignant. That last line hit hard.
February 6, 2013 — 7:17 PM
welltemperedwriter says:
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.
February 6, 2013 — 5:58 PM
Elemley says:
A diagnosis
Decisions. An incision.
Scars and hope remain.
February 6, 2013 — 6:59 PM
Kristi Rhodes says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 10:18 AM
brandil79 says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 10:38 AM
Douglas Knight says:
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)
February 7, 2013 — 10:53 AM
Carey B says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 10:56 AM
M1ssShakespeare says:
Dug Leicester Car Park
Summer last, King Richard III
Remains discovered!
February 7, 2013 — 11:51 AM
Valerie Valdes (@valerievaldes) says:
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.
February 7, 2013 — 12:55 PM
Sunita Pillay says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 1:37 PM
Stephen McClurg says:
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.
February 7, 2013 — 1:54 PM
onethemis says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 10:44 PM
Andy says:
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
February 7, 2013 — 10:47 PM
Andy says:
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!
February 7, 2013 — 10:53 PM
jay wolf says:
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.
February 7, 2013 — 11:45 PM
Brooke says:
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.
February 8, 2013 — 12:38 AM
Erik says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 2:31 AM
Carrie says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 7:07 AM
Sara says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 8:17 AM
Andrew S. Phillips says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 8:29 AM
M E Lucas says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 9:09 AM
KELLY says:
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
February 8, 2013 — 9:22 AM