21 Ways Of Looking At A Birthday Girl

I
Sneaking in the back
To a ringing telephone
Never saw the blood

II
When I left today
Both my family were home
Now all three are gone

III
“Look, Papa, cartoons!
Cartoon Network! Also, Mom
Had a baby girl.”

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a boy
Are one.
A man and a woman and a boy and a girl
Are one.

V
Home again at last
Scalpel in the waterbed
Daughter in my arms

VI
Ambulance retrieves
One more from the old folks’ home
Another baby?”

VII
What’s the weather like
There in Siri World today?
Clouds and pretty skies!

VIII
Tangles teased apart
Follicle by follicle
Till the brush runs smooth

IX
Cries from Cawdor’s slain
Echo through the Elsinore
Baby Leatherlungs

X
Prisoner of books
Pinned beneath a fallen case
Yay, it’s story time!

XI
We’ve been here before
Stitches just above the eye
Too-big hats are fun

XII
These are all haiku!
Wallace Stevens mixed it up
Papa phones it in

XIII
Fearless climbing girl
Doesn’t know from gravity
Till the day she does

XIV
Wasted tenterhooks
Placed here for the angry years
Rusting
Hardly used

XV
Nothing is too hard
To be bitten off and chewed
Even worrying

XVI
Do the work
Read the room
Take the stage
Seize the day
Now and then throw up

XVII
Life ain’t always fair
Heartbreak is the day you learn
Life ain’t always fair

XVIII
Sleep like you mean it
Wake like you want it

XIX
Music
Drama
Art
Storytelling
Teaching
Food
Writing
Silliness

XX
Brave
Intelligent
Unintimidatable
As far as we know

XXI
If we met today
And got past the awkwardness
I think we’d be friends

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About Michael

Silliness is good
This entry was posted in haiku, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to 21 Ways Of Looking At A Birthday Girl

  1. frankhubeny says:

    Generally I don’t like haiku, but XXI was particularly nice.

    • Michael says:

      Thank you. I often feel like writing haiku is cheating, but I appreciate the way the form enforces clarity. In this case, I also took advantage of haiku’s tradition of ambiguity to gloss over the fact that most of what I was writing about only made sense to a small handful of readers within my own family. XXI, of course, was the point of the whole exercise.

  2. Judy says:

    What a loving birthday poem.

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