Haiku and Tanka

The Original Sin: Rhyming Haiku!
 

Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
―Michael R. Burch

 
The herons stand,
sentry-like, at attention ...
rigid observers of some unknown command.
―Michael R. Burch

 
Late
fall;
all
the golden leaves turn black underfoot:
soot
―Michael R. Burch

 
Dry leaf flung awry:
bright butterfly,
goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch

 
A snake in the grass
lies, hissing
"Trespass!"
―Michael R. Burch

 
Honeysuckle
blesses my knuckle
with affectionate dew
―Michael R. Burch

 
My nose nuzzles
honeysuckle’s
sweet nothings
―Michael R. Burch

 
The day’s eyes were blue
until you appeared
and they wept at your beauty.
―Michael R. Burch

 
The moon in decline
like my lover’s heart
lies far beyond mine
―Michael R. Burch

 
My mother’s eyes
acknowledging my imperfection:
dejection
―Michael R. Burch
 

The sun sets
the moon fails to rise
we avoid each other’s eyes
―Michael R. Burch

brief leaf flung awry ~

bright butterfly, goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch
 

leaf flutters in flight ~
bright, O and endeavoring butterfly,
goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch

The girl with the pallid lips
lipsticks
into something more comfortable
―Michael R. Burch

I am a traveler
going nowhere,
but my how the gawking bystanders stare!
―Michael R. Burch

Here's a poem that's composed of haiku-like stanzas:

Lift up your head
dandelion,
hear spring roar!
 

How will you tidy your hair
this near
summer?
 

Leave to each still night
your lightest affliction,
dandruff.
 

Soon you will free yourself:
one shake
of your white mane.
 

Now there are worlds
into which you appear
and disappear
 

seemingly at will
but invariably blown
wildly, then still.
 

Gasp at the bright chill
glower
of winter.
 

Icicles splinter;
sleep still an hour,
till, resurrected in power,
 

you lift up your head,
dandelion.
Hear spring roar!
― Michael R. Burch

 
Unrhymed Original Haiku and Tanka
by Michael R. Burch

These are original haiku and tanka written by Michael R. Burch, along with haiku-like and tanka-like poems inspired by the forms but not necessarily abiding by all the rules.

Dark-bosomed clouds
pregnant with heavy thunder ...
the water breaks
―Michael R. Burch
 

one pillow ...
our dreams
merge
―Michael R. Burch
 

Iffy Coronavirus Haiku

yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #1
by Michael R. Burch
 

plagued by the Plague
i plague the goldfish
with my verse
 

yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #2
by Michael R. Burch
 

sunflowers
hang their heads
embarrassed by their coronas
 

I wrote this poem after having a sunflower arrangement delivered to my mother, who is in an assisted living center and can’t have visitors due to the coronavirus pandemic. I have been informed the poem breaks haiku rules about personification, etc.
 

Homework (yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #3)
by Michael R. Burch
 

Dim bulb overhead,
my silent companion:
still imitating the noonday sun?
 

New World Order (last in a series and perhaps a species)
by Michael R. Burch
 

The days of the dandelions dawn ...
soon man will be gone:
fertilizer.
 

Variations on Fall
 

Farewells like
falling
leaves,
so many sad goodbyes.
―Michael R. Burch

Falling leaves
brittle hearts
whisper farewells
―Michael R. Burch
 

Autumn leaves
soft farewells
falling ...
falling ...
falling ...
―Michael R. Burch
 

Autumn leaves
Fall’s farewells
Whispered goodbyes
―Michael R. Burch

Variations on the Seasons
by Michael R. Burch

 
Mother earth
prepares her nurseries:
spring greening
 

The trees become
modest,
coy behind fans
 

*
 

Wobbly fawns
have become the fleetest athletes:
summer
 

*
 

Dry leaves
scuttle like crabs:
autumn
 

*
 

The sky
shivers:
snowfall
 

each
translucent flake
lighter than eiderdown
 

the entire town entombed
but not in gloom,
bedazzled.
 

Variations on Night
 

Night,
ice and darkness
conspire against human warmth
―Michael R. Burch

Night and the Stars
conspire against me:
Immensity
―Michael R. Burch
 

in the ice-cold cathedral
prayer candles ablaze
flicker warmthlessly
―Michael R. Burch

Variations on the Arts
by Michael R. Burch

 
Paint peeling:
the novel's
novelty wears off ...
 

The autumn marigold's
former glory:
allegory.
 

Human arias?
The nightingale frowns, perplexed.
Tone deaf!
 

Where do cynics
finally retire?
Satire.
 

All the world’s
a stage
unless it’s a cage.
 

To write an epigram,
cram.
If you lack wit, scram.
 

Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
 

Video
dumped the b**b tube
for YouTube.
 

Anyone
can rap:
just write rhythmic crap!

Variations on Lingerie
by Michael R. Burch

 
Were you just a delusion?
The black negligee you left
now merest illusion.
 

The clothesline
quivers,
ripe with unmentionables.
 

The clothesline quivers:
wind,
or ghosts?

 
Variations on Love and Wisdom
by Michael R. Burch

 
Wise old owls
stare myopically at the moon,
hooting as the hart escapes.
 

Myopic moon-hooting owls
hoot as the hart escapes
 

The myopic owl,
moon-intent, scowls;
my rabbit heart thunders ...
Peace, wise fowl!
 

Tanka
 

All the wild energies
of electric youth
captured in the monochromes
of an ancient photobooth
like zigzagging lightning.
―Michael R. Burch
 

The plums were sweet,
icy and delicious.
To eat them all
was perhaps malicious.
But I vastly prefer your kisses!
―Michael R. Burch
 

A child waving ...
The train groans slowly away ...
Loneliness ...
Somewhere in the distance gusts
scatter the stray unharvested hay ...
―Michael R. Burch
 

How vaguely I knew you
however I held you close ...
your heart’s muffled thunder,
your breath the wind―
rising and dying.
―Michael R. Burch
 

Miscellanea
 
Childless
by Michael R. Burch

 
How can she bear her grief?
Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight
of one fallen star.
 

sheer green stockings
queer green beer
St. Patrick's Day!
―Michael R. Burch
 

cicadas chirping everywhere
singing to beat the band―
surround sound
―Michael R. Burch
 

Regal, upright,
clad in royal purple:
Zinnia
―Michael R. Burch
 

Love is a surreal sweetness
in a world where trampled grapes
become wine.
―Michael R. Burch
 

although meant for market
a pail full of strawberries
invites indulgence
―Michael R. Burch

late November;
skeptics scoff
but the geese no longer migrate
―Michael R. Burch

as the butterfly hunts nectar
the generous iris
continues to bloom
―Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Haiku, Tanka, coronavirus, nature, love, heart, family, mother, son, seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter, sun, moon, rhyme, rhymed