Haikus For My Own Private Waterloo

I suck as a mom,
not for the obvious, but
for the stupid stuff.

I make them eat their
vegetables and drink their milk
And do their homework.

Their wails make me smile
as I set the course; mixing
Athens with Sparta.

But then I get a plan.
Something to make them smile,
Glad I am their mom.

Good in it's way, but
then I get cocky and make
promises. I'm doomed.

Like just this Sunday:
"Hey, Colin, let's have your friend
to play in the pool!"

What pool? Well you ask.
Really more a plan as it's
still stuck in its box.

See, after years of
inflatable pools that
die and go to ground,

this year we made a
change and got a Slip 'n Slide
for their summer fun.

But it was no pool.
Nope. It was a little fun,
but it was no pool.

So, "Fuck it," I said.
Life's too short to not have a
pool in your backyard.

The problem is it
kills the grass as it sits there,
for more than a week.

But, wait! We've a slab
of vacant concrete poured by
the prior owners.

It's flat! It's grass-free!
It's level (I think it is).
The place for a pool.

Off we go, to Toys
R Us, Where pools are on sale!
(Who needs measurements!?!)

So, after breakfast,
and laundry. And dinner prep.
And my exercise,

I head out to the
Midwest backyard, where its now
90* in the shade.

Colin's friend arrives
with flip-flops, swimsuit and towel,
ready for a dip.

Alas, the pool is
still theoretical and
laughing at me.

See, it's a full yard
(a meter) too big for the
handy cement pad.

The pad, I might add,
is only mostly level,
for all it's grass free.

Two options there are:
Charles says let it go and get
another, smaller pool.

Me? I say let's do
the more miserable way
and build up the slope.

Thar's rock a-plenty
in the fire pit. I can
build a pool rampart.






Yeah. Good plan, that. Hot
and humid. The sweat burns with
the dirt in my eyes.

I forgot the bush
I had to transplant so the
pool wouldn't crush it.

(Colin and his friend
went down to the basement and
played video games.)


Charles, always wise,
remained exiled on Elba;
he had to study.


Hours later, I
Once again filled the bastard
and prayed for success.

Let's define 'success',
shall we? It holds some water
and is sort of round.

Maybe it is less
than half its expected depth
and shaped like a "D"



And there's a sort of
waterfall at one place as
one side collapses.




On a side note, I
noted a water beetle
made the pool its home.

This was only a half
hour from starting to fill the
cursed fucking pool.

(How a water bug
got in that fast? I'm flummoxed.
Call her 'Harriet'.)






So, there we are kids.
I tried, I really did, but
I suck as a mom.

Tomorrow, you can
splash in your puddle and make
friends with Harriet.

Maybe now you'll find that
the poor Slip 'n Slide is not
such a wretched deal.



-------------
The following day,
my own private Waterloo
sinks to sad, new depths.





Hell with it. I'll clean
it and donate it to some
poor sap at Goodwill.

The rock, of course, will
all have to be schlepped back to
the fire pit site.

The transplanted bush?
There it stays. I'll plant a spare
in its former spot.
------------

I want it noted that
I was just transiently
thwarted in my quest.

The next day I found
Another pool, smaller, less
tricky to put up.

Napoleon has
nothing on me for stubborn
personality.

*34 degrees C for the civilized world.

Anyone want a minimally used pool with filter-pump (complete with O rings lubricated) and ladder assembled? You need a 13 foot (4+ meter) scrupulously level spot of yard or you will rue the day and regret the loss of your sanity. Actually, I've been using the ladder in my multi-month window-washing quest, so at least the ladder has been pressed into honest service.

Haikus For Sneaky Girls

Sara's sick again.
Again; third time in a month,
nineteenth time this year.

(OK, maybe I
exaggerate. A bit. Just
seems like forever.)

And while we hate it
that she feels so bad: achy,
snotty, sniffly, wan.

It's the fevers high
That suck our souls dry, and leave
us ashen with dread.

See, the thing our kids
do well; really, really well
is run HIGH fevers.

105 is par
for their little viral course;
eggs fry on their brains.

Colin set the way
of violently refusing
all good medicine.

He'd vomit as soon
as any flavor or form
of med reached his mouth.

Luckily, by five,
he learned to swallow his pills
and it's been fine since.

Sara can't bear to
be less of a stress to us,
so she vomits, too.

We threaten, cajole
and yell, but still the fevers
rise and terrify.

But this time, it was
different, she took it well
and smiled all the time.

"Finally!", we cried
She realizes that it
makes her feel better.

Ah, what saps we are.
For in the bathroom trash are
all her fever pills.

They don't work so well
if they're not in her system.
Sneakiness and lies.

Tough to punish her,
Flushed and ill, sobbing still, she's
sad at being caught.

But still, it must be
done. No more Samurai Jack
or Open Season.

And, Hey! What's this? A
find! While cleaning out cupboards,
something for next time!!

There is another route,
you see. I found Tylenol
suppositories!

Don't mess with Dr Mom.

Haikus For Stupid Pets

The cast of characters: Molly--70 lb (30kg) 2 year old German Shepherd Dog, and Madison--5 lb (2.5 kg) 2 year old cat. Both born within weeks and on the same farm as each other.





Oh, you stupid duo.
Worse than brothers and sisters,
At least in our house.

First, YOU. Dog. Yes. You.
What the hell were you thinking?
The small cat is armed.

Don't you corner her
and piss her off. Just DON'T. You
get what you deserve.

And YOU. Cat. Yes, you.
Those claws of yours don't retract
When hooked to the nub.

Mrararo! (Caterwalling)
Hnnnnnnnnnnnnn! (Dogerwalling) I turn.
Dog has grown a beard?

Dangling from both jowels,
All 10 claws sunk in her face,
Deep as they can go.

A foot off the ground,
Mad is, swinging back and forth,
While Mol shakes her head.

That fails, so Mol takes
her paw, slides it down Mad's arm,
to her throat and pulls.

Now Kitty's choking
and swinging and driving her
claws in even deeper.

(Dammit! Once again,
the camera's at the other
end of the whole house.)

With a large sigh, I
cross the kitchen and try to
disengage the cat.

Sadly, she's sunk in
so deeply that I can't back
her claws from Mol's face.

After much wrestling,
I close my eyes and riiiiiiiiip them
out of Molly's cheeks.

Cat is mad.
Dog is sad.
I have had
enough.









(Yes, this is an old picture but it fits.)

Haikus for Fucking Lice

"Mom, my head itches."
We think nothing of this phrase;
we eat our dinner.

But after, I look:
combing through his lovely hair
with my sure fingers.

Huh. What the fuck's that?
He has stuff stuck in his hair.
Probably some food.

Think I'll trot off to
his room, find the microscope,
and make up a slide.

(Best Christmas present,
I'll tell you, very handy
to have for such things.)

Damn. The specimen
seems to have vanished off the
tip of my finger.

Another sample.
A slide. Then a cover slip.
Eye peers through the lens.

Fuck. It's wriggling there.
Trapped beneath the cover slip.
Nowhere else to go.

(Sorta cool, though.
I can see my son's blood move
through his intestines.

That's why they don't let
me go out much in polite
company. I'm weird.

I find icky, gross
disease states and such horrid
vectors kinda cool.)

Hurriedly, I go
through the instructions for the
eradication.

I beat back the urge
to race to the car and drive
to a pharmacy.

Tomorrow morning
will be soon enough to get
pediculocides.

Barkeep, set 'em up!
Nix all 'round for each of us.
Kill the fuckers dead.

I don't care if it's
not necessary to treat
if it's not on you.

So, tomorrow we
will procure a case of it;
soak 'til we are prunes.

Then we'll spend the rest
of the weekend combing hairs,
all in a circle.

Who's to blame for this?
Who knows? Smart money's on the
friendly neighbor's kid.

So, now we are all
itching with imagined blood-
sucking parasites.

Don't share hats or combs
or coats. (Don't play football with
the damn neighbor kid.)

Haikus For The Woman By The Side Of The Road This Morning

Driving down to work,
6:30 AM, sunrise.
At the edge of Monroe.

Colors of muted
Green and brown and grey and white...
and bright magenta.

You stroll by the side
of the highway, in the grass,
wearing your nightgown.

Nightgown? Really? Sure?
Yes. Satiny, Shiny, and
Thankfully not short.

Grass covered your feet
So I couldn't prove the pair
of fuschia slippers.

You seemed comfortable
with your being, no need for
a coat or a robe.

Best of all, in your
hand was the leash attached to
the black, happy dog.

Strolling there with you,
tail high, around his neck
a large white lampshade.

He seemed quite perky.
So maybe the shade was more
a fashion statement.

Thank you for the smile.
I will keep your image with
me throughout the day.

In my dull clothes
Of beige and muted aqua
and brown and camel.

But my mind is now
Magenta and fuschia and
perky white lampshades.

Haikus for Mommy Guilt

Such a silly girl.
Dressed in jammie tank and shorts
Cute but not so warm.

Yet you feel the need
To join us in the wee hours,
Leaving your warm bed.

We find you curled
There, at the foot of our bed
Like some hairless cat.

You don't plan ahead,
Leaving all your blankets there,
Piled on your own bed.

Tucked in your arm, though,
One stuffed animal to hold
Against the night's chill.

So there I find you,
Small and shivering and so
Very sound asleep.

I grab you by the
Arms and haul you up by me
Where it's nice and warm.

I spend the rest of
The night bent in bizarre shapes,
Curled around your form.

I then wake and try
To walk, the pretzel woman
Gimps to the bathroom

I'm sure it's not a
Coincidence that you've done
This since I left you.

Clearly, 4 days gone
From me has left you worried
That I'd not come back.

And so, nightly, here
You come, to make sure I'm still
Here in the morning.

Guess the solution
Is to bring you with me on
All trips from now on.

There we'll be, at the
conference, me, eighty-three,
You can be my cane.

Clouded Haikus

In honor of Poetry Friday and Mona, I will throw this out. (Throw this up?)

The word is "Cloud". Lovely, innocent, lazy, summer entertainment, soft and fluffy clouds:


"Clouded Consciousness".
"Clouded Corneas". "Cloudy
Urine". Never good.

It is a fate of
mine, going through life seeing
the ill in the fair.

It is a fate of
yours, you who choose to read, to
glimpse my twisted takes.

As I butcher such
a simple and lovely form
that is the haiku.


And, for those who love pictures and haven't been reading long, here are some more dark, evil clouds from last summer.

Haikus For Beaker

Hi. Remember me?
Beaker, here. I've been standing
taking mail for months.

All seemed well until
the much prayed for snow did fall.
Which led to the plow.

Menacing me in
the dark, pre-dawn, he bore down,
like a monstrous troll

I saw him veer and
aim right for me, smashing me.
Plow: 1, Beaker: nil

Finding me AWOL,
Charles dug me out and propped me
up the best he could.

Large rocks he piled
'round my post, "Good enough", he
said, then left for work.

Abandoned me to
my fate. 'Good enough' was NOT
'Good enough' at all!!!

For mere days later,
with the next snow, he returned.
Plow: TWO, Beaker: nil.

So, pathetically
I lean, spine broken, skull cracked.
I'm perky no more.

Blame me not if your
mail goes missing and future
refund checks are lost.

Not that I'd plot such
a thing. I'm just saying what
you sow, shall you reap.

So, I'll stop now; I'll
lean and glower, a broken
shattered, bitter soul.

Haikus To Mock The Senseless Dog

Not to bright are you?
It's been months since you tried to
fit under the bed.

Yes, the cat can fit.
She's a cat, small and lithe, who's
bones are cartilage.

In the interim,
you, my dear, have not gotten
the least bit smaller.

In fact, you've grown more.
What were you thinking? Really.
WHAT were you thinking?

This brought upon you
the torture of 'nose kissies',
'noogies', and the rest.

Lord knows how the cat
got in her licks from under
the bed. Serves you right.

In your defense, you
did manage to free yourself
after 10 minutes.

Wriggling your shoulders
and hips, pushing with your toes,
finally you escaped.

Was that the end of
it? Of course not. You're a dog.
Same time, next morning.

Haikus for an Obscene Forecast

Per the NOAA site, confirmed by NPR's weather reports according to the Wisconsin and Northern Illinois stations (bold text my emphasis) :

Today...Windy. Rain in the morning...Then chance of rain or light snow in the afternoon. No snow accumulation. Highs in the upper 40s. Southwest winds 5 to 15 mph increasing to west 15 to 30 mph. Chance of precipitation 100 percent.

Tonight...Colder...Breezy. Mostly cloudy with a 30 percent chance of snow showers. Lows in the upper 20s. West winds 15 to 25 mph.

Thursday...Mostly cloudy with a 30 percent chance of rain showers and snow showers. Highs upper 30s. West winds 15 to 20 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.

Thursday Night...Mostly cloudy with a 30 percent chance of snow showers. Lows in the upper 20s. West winds 15 to 20 mph with gusts to around 30 mph.

Friday...Mostly cloudy with a 30 percent chance of rain showers and snow showers. Highs in the mid 40s. West winds 15 to 20 mph.

********** (snowflakes)

Ok. Some things just deserve as a punishment a round of haiku bitch-slapping. Yes. This is Wisconsin, where we brag about our 'frozen tundra' and our silly ice fishing and all that, but we shouldn't look for snow until American Thanksgiving, something that is still a month and a half away.

* * * * * * *
* * * * * (snow flurries)
** * *
* * * *

"It's not like you'll have
to shovel", says obnoxious
radio D.J.

But we've still leaves on
the trees and the grass is green;
It's still soccer time.

Halloween is weeks
from now. Then there's still most of
November to go.

See, there should be rules.
Snow is fine from Thanksgiving
until Easter time.

"Ayup. This is like
The winter of '24,"
Say the old farmers.

Anything else is
just rude, in my point of view
Time to assign blame.

Find the Snow Miser.
Hold his feet to the fire,
stop his evil plan.

And while we're on it,
Why isn't global warming
Stepping in to help?

See, I've been stocking
Up on surf boards, sunscreen and
Zone 8 flower seeds.

So, all you folks who
Live somewhere nice and warm can
All point and laugh, now.

***********
***********
*********** (Snow storm)
***********
***********
***********
***********

One Easy Solution

Humph.
All I
Really
Meant to imply was that if we could
Only do as I see fit, we'd
Never have a problem.
Yes?



Maybe I should steer clear of Poetry Friday, for the common good.

Haikus for CME

That's Continuing
Medical Ed-you-kay-shun
for the rest of you.

Must have fifty hours
each and every year or else
dire things happen.

What those dire things
are, I know not, but I don't
ever want to know.

So, dark and early,
Saturday, we pack up the
minivan and go.

Where? Ah. Yes. Some go
to Hawaii or maybe
NYC or Vale.

Me? Well, I'm off to
glamorous and envious
Northern Michigan.

Hey. It's mostly paid
for out of my yearly funds,
if we keep it cheap.

The place? Oh. A golf
resort. Do I golf? Uh, no.
Nope. Nyet. Nosiree.

Fortunately the
beloved Charles and kids will
accompany me.

Each morning, I'll go
and sit on my arse to get
a little smarter.

Then, I'll skip back to
the room and we'll go see stuff
like Lake Michigan.

Our long planned for trip
back to Portland to see our
family and friends

Fell through, so this is
it for this year's vacation.
Better than nothing.

So, we'll pretend that
the Big Lake is really the
Pacific, without waves.

We do get one bright
spot; on the drive home, we will
go annoy Gerah.

So, see you later,
alligators, we're hitting
the road with much glee!

Thought I'd leave you
all with these dreadful haikus.
See you in a week!

Haikus For Mandatory Meetings

Like the aligning
Of meddling planets or crash
Of biorhythms.

I find myself faced
With five hours of meetings,
In a solid block.

The first, I confess,
I do not rue; it is all
Women providers.

We will talk and laugh
And solve the Network's problems,
And, this time, drink wine.

The last 3 hours,
Well, that's the rub, as they say.
"Leadership Training".

Hours in a room,
sitting slack-jawed with my peers,
Listening to this.

And, you can't sneak out.
My boss is at the back, eagle-eyed,
Perching, by the door.

Dinner will be served.
As it's in a hospital,
You can guess the fare.

Adding to my grief,
In my eye, I have a stye.
Blink. Ow. Blink. Ow. Blink.

I think my eye is
Showing solidarity
With my sorry ass.

Taunting Haikus From the Courageous and Heroic Orchid

The Courageous Hero!!! All Hail His Perfection!!

Hah! You stupid cat.
For weeks I watched you stalk us,
Making us all fear.

You with the soft sneak,
Razor claws that bat and shred,
And your sharp, sharp teeth.

But soon, She noticed;
my comrades, ripped and bleeding.
How we suffered fierce.

What tore Her heart worst
was me. Finally I was
to flower, you see.

I'm so beautiful,
She couldn't bear to see me
hurt in any way.

(In fact, never has
there been a more stunning plant.
I'm sheer perfection!)

How to save us from
the fiend? She did not know. She
asked the Internets.

"Tin foil will foil cats,"
said Leigh Ann, while Stacy knew
oranges you would hate.

So, she made us foil
skirts about the base and cut
oranges for our feet.

I'd fart in your face.
Instead I'll make rude gestures
with my long sepals.

What? You heard me? Oh.
Nothing. I said nothing. Nope.
(I hate fucking cats.)

Haikus For Tea and Sympathy

Never kiss your kids.
Advice I never follow,
so now I am sick.

Colin got it first,
with chest and nose all full of
snot and icky stuff.

Then our mighty Charles
was felled; he slept all weekend.
Now he's on the mend.

So, it is my time.
Only fair I take my turn,
see what they went through.

So very tired,
stuffy, sore; green and brown goo,
like the clinic walls.

Advil, Sudafed,
better life through chemistry,
Dextromethorphan.

And, thank god for tea.
It soothes the throat and balms soul,
steams open my nose.

As I am not that
sick, the part I dislike worse
is wanting to whine.

Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine.
Whiny, whiny, whiny, whine.
Whine, whine, whine, whine. Wine?

(I must be feeling better?)

Haiku for The Dog With The Shit-Eatin' Grin

Why must you eat poop?
Cat and Deer, lord knows who's else.
Then you want a kiss.

Just when we think you've
done your worst, you slake your thirst
from her potty chair.

I'm afraid I'll be
brought back as a dog, if I'm
not good in this life.

New Year's Haikus

Pictures for you, originally uploaded by DianaP.

It's said what you do
on New Year's Day will be what
you do the year through.

If that is true, then
I will clean out the garage
this entire year.

I will also make
bad haikus for my blog that
you are doomed to read.

Sorry. So very
sorry. I should have planned a
trip to Guam instead.

Anniversary Blog Haikus

Well, it's been a year,
I wondered if it would last.
Now it's integral.

A year ago, I
knew you not, yet now you have
become my dear friends.

Clearly, this is why
I should not resign my job
to write poetry.

Haiku For A Naughty Dog

You know where to poop.
Yet, soon as my back is turned,
There you go again.