Haiku 2014

Well, it looks like 2014 was a year of haiku for me. Seems I wrote a few of them. But not your "modern-day, wait for a haiku moment" kindof haikus.

My haiku were more the traditional, 5-7-5, down-home, boots in dirt, hard-working, get up and do your chores, have a big breakfast, don't step on the cats, sometimes political, yes I'm a democrat, go to work, come home, fix dinner, watch Doctor Who, read a book then go to bed kindof haiku.

Starting with the early ones I wrote in 2014 to the present, here's the ones I liked the best:


Thick morning fog sits
like fearless desperadoes
waiting for a train.

*  *  *

What a wild finish.
Dallas, Aily, Jeff scratches.
The Iditarod

*  *  *

These tomato plants
better survive 'til summer
cookouts call their name.

*  *  *

Early-morning fog.
I-20 to Abilene
playing hide and seek.

*  *  *

This April sunshine
warms up my neck real nice like
April sunshine should.

*  *  *

Fancy boots don't scoot
through Texas dirt like old ones
baptized in hard work.

*  *  *

I've been to LA
once was one time too many.
Texas suits me fine.

*  *  *

I sweat wind and dust.
The Brazos flows through my veins.
My soul sings Texas.

*  *  *

Those damn mosquitoes
always cruising the main drag
looking for free drinks.

*  *  *

I ain't no greenhorn
waitin' for daylight to break.
There's work to be done.

*  *  *

That first cup of Joe
tastes like Columbian sex.
Smooth, dark and steamy.

*  *  *

It's been a whole year.
I still see her standing on
a hot summer night.

*  *  *

A pen in one hand,
a ballot in the other,
my voice loud and clear.

*  *  *

Autumn's steady rain
Fall seeps into everything;
Winter boots stand by.

*  *  *

Last day November
kicks up windy ruckus 
of leaves, and is done.

*  *  *

Cattle in the mist
restless shapes and dark shadows
appear, dissappear.

*  *  *

Rainy-day Thursday
like Dorothy on aged vinyl,
Misty Blue in D.

*  *  *

Three cats on a couch
staring at the Christmas tree
making their cat plans.

*  *  *

Fam'ly buried in
wrapping paper avalanche
not found, at present.

*  *  *

December twilight
breeze whispers to clinging leaves,
"Let go. I'll catch you."

*  *  *

Cold night for frost breath
like steam locomotives at
snow-covered stations.

*  *  *

Got resolutions?
I prefer mine short and sweet:
Talk less, listen more.

*  *  *

Well, that was at least most of them,
and certainly more than enough to put here.
So, here's wishing to you a happy and wonderful,
Happy New Year.

(Gosh, that was lame!)

Miercoles...

... is Wednesday wearing its Zorro mask.

Christmas Tree Photo Tip

If your Christmas Tree photos are gonna be blurry anyway, you might as well go all out.

The only things my local newspaper lacks...

... are well-written stories and great photographs. The ads, as far as I can tell, look very professional.

O Tannenbaum My Tumbleweed

I wouldn't mind having a tumbleweed for a Christmas Tree, but every year my family says no. Not just a plain no, but a STRONG no.

Well, they can't say no to me writing songs:

"O Christmas Tumbleweed, O Christmas Tumbleweed,
your dried-up twigs are okie-doke.

O Christmas Tumbleweed, O Christmas Tumbleweed,
your dried-up twigs are okie-doke.

We rolled you in without a doubt,
when Christmas's done we'll roll you out.

O Christmas Tumbleweed, O Christmas Tumbleweed,
your dried-up twigs are okie-doke."

Survival tip for those who enjoy riding a motorcycle throughout the winter

You --

Thermal underwear,
wool socks,
riding boots,
trousers,
rain pants,
snow pants,
shirt,
sweater,
leather jacket,
rain jacket,
glove inserts,
snow machine mittens,
balaclava,
helmet.

-- Frostbite