Haiku Archives

by Jens Alfke ⟿ March 4, 2007


Figs cover the ground
The children step over them
Or sometimes they don’t

A hug and a kiss
A heart outlined with fingers
And a wave goodbye

To the very end
of the quivering green branch
clings a black squirrel

So much depends on
a red Mario beanie
left out on the lawn.

Yellow leaves dancing
in the air, two stories up
against green windows.

I cannot get up.
I am excused from all work:
Cat purrs on my lap.


Hunting millipedes;
Earthworms and a defunct grub
Are all our trowel found

A caterpillar
tiny … bright green … wriggling
floats by on a thread

The cardboard stove box
lawn parallelopiped
packed with my children

Squirrels found a ripe fig
All the ones I see are green
What do the squirrels know?

With my big pushes
she swings high on blue chain links.
Above, figs ripen.

A huge durian
hidden on the tile rooftop.
Kick it, Mario!

A surplus mouthpart
transmuted into silver
beneath his pillow

Outside the window,
Past my feet and sleeping cats,
Trees are shivering.


Outside: balcony.
Two hundred forty thousand
miles above: the moon.

green surface stretches
’round a smaller volume now:
four-thirds π r cubed


On November lawns
The rain and shade have planted
A mushroom forest

Prufrock 2K4:
“I have measured out my life
In eggnog lattes.”

My Java haiku / Are funny because they’re true / But rather geeky

(Circa 1998)

I got an Object
I was sure it was a Point

Garbage collection
The unused objects are gone —
Knew you wouldn’t mind

Peers come from some secret place
So mysterious

Server wants linefeeds
But println just sends CR
The sockets deadlock

“Java For Dummies”
Yee Haw! Are we coding yet?!
When’s our IPO?