The
Toast Point
Haiku Contest!

Since 1995!

A Japanese Garden of Verse

Entries from October, 1998

Jerry Ball writes 10/31/98

Michael J. Bellamy writes 10/31/98

Pat Grantt writes 10/30/98

The poet comments, "Beautiful fairy dusted plumes on my smoke tree. Had to take a second look to see if it was real."

John Brenner writes 10/30/98

The poet comments, "hoping for critiques. . ."

Greg San writes 10/30/98

The poet comments, " Inspired by the sight of a long hanging shooting star, while on my way to work early one morning."

Late night returning
We stop to gaze in wonder
at the starry sky.

Stuart Reed writes 10/30/98

Glenn's Off Again

A Duty To Beauty

And An Album I Must Buy

It Was Not A Blunt Instrument

Sano-Wrap Clean

Hiccup

Put A Candle In Your Gourd

The poet comments, "The next eight are haiku written whilst milking cows.

On This Occasion

The poet comments, "Pie-toon is my employee.

He's Tall For A Thai

For Instance

A Song Of Echoing Longing

A Simian Tang

Why Does He Smile So?

He works twelve hours a
Day, seven days a week. You'd
Think he'd be bitter.

Starla Chinn writes 10/29/98

The poet comments, "This is my first haiku. I was just having a little fun, but I would love to see some comments on it!! "

Very nice. You could have used "goblins" instead of "ghouls" to make the middle line seven syllables, but it wasn't necessary.

Wind breaths into me
filling my soul with content.
I sigh with the trees.

Laura Dadd writes 10/29/98

Eve writes 10/29/98

Memories of you
fill my dreams, but when I wake
you are not here.

§oshua writes 10/29/98

Laura Dadd writes 10/28/98

Has soft light overslept?
Autumns haze smothers the morn.
Ghost lights my only sun.

Pat Grantt writes 10/28/98

Autumn tangled shades
Multicolored disarray
Stirred by cooling winds.

Still I do live on
Your memories breath for me
Rustling green leaves.

Eve writes 10/27/98

Time is mending wounds
Slowly, one stitch at a time
No bandage needed

You promised me love
You delivered betrayal
You left me crying.

Love is just a word
Exploited in greeting cards
Used to fill deep hearts.

Shy petals unfold
Squinting at the blazing sun
Slowly sip dew drops.

§oshua writes 10/27/98

Angie Hinojos writes 10/27/98

Death of My Cat

That happens to Toast Point all the time, except, happily, his cat is still very much among us.

Ed Shustack writes 10/27/98

The poet comments, "Think Baltimore Orioles!"

Laura Dadd writes 10/26/98

The poet comments, "If I Could get any constructive criticism, please write me"

We try not to get into lengthy criticism, but... this haiku is interesting, which is a good start. The first line is a little cliched, but the last line, seemingly contradictory, is thought-provoking.

Huge groups of sparrows
Peck furiously in the dirt
Their song will leave soon

Anna writes 10/25/98

Scorching hot white sun
Steaming heat chokes fragile leaves
Fresh breeze brings relief

Rush Hour

Angels are singing
Mortals hear sweet choir
Beaming sun conducts

Headlines do not shock
Statistics change no values
Grief arrives too late.

Scowling,stormy sky
Thunder vents nature's fury
Lightning cracks its whip

Willow Haven writes 10/25/98

The poet comments, "I have more...you know I can't stop."

Distant rhythms beat
I climb a golden staircase
seeing only you.

I question some things
drink in the sun litwaters
And find the answers.

Pat Grantt writes 10/23/98

Silently they sing
All those things that could have been
Wanting still to be.

Mihajlo Mika Pavlovic writes 10/23/98

On the Nettle Flower

Ivies in a Dream

Travelling ants

Empty Road

Ed Shustack writes 10/23/98

Stuart Reed writes 10/23/98

No Other Atoms

English As She Is Spoke

He's Beef On The Hoof

Technological Anthropomorphism

Today It's Made Of Pixels

What Would Be The Odds?

C. D. Bott Tome

The Seedy Bottomes Of Fingering-ho

What Could They Have Been Thinking?

I mean, how does a
Town get a name like that? Was
It pulled from a hat?

Nikki writes 10/22/98

Anne Baker writes 10/22/98

Black Jade writes 10/22/98

Stillness is solid
In my great sorrow I stand
Alone yet at peace

Hevy Kevy writes 10/22/98

Kara writes 10/22/98

The poet comments, "modern english haiku is not written in standard 5,7,5, form anymore. I had to change the above haiku to fit the form, which i think makes it sound a bit too strained.. but hey... i decided this once to follow the rules! "

Pat Grantt writes 10/22/98

Hardened to the kill
justice mouths old melodies
til the cries are stilled

Megan writes 10/21/98

The poet comments, "it's a very good haiku written by a third grader."

Tom Blaser writes 10/21/98

Howard Tuckey writes 10/21/98

The poet comments, "I've been using this for years, now decided to make haiku of it."

Toast Point comments, "Two geese haiku submitted by different (I assume) poets within hours of each other. Must be kismet."

Joel Traylor writes 10/20/98

The poet comments,
"What a peaceful time
After the rains have fallen
And the sun smiles down. :)"

Black Jade writes 10/20/98

Willow Haven writes 10/20/98

The poet comments, "HI!! I missed this page! here are more:

The willow tree branch
sways languidly as I watch
the sunset; golden.

I embrace the rain
it in turn caresses me
my spirit washed clean

I see gentle clouds
knowing they watch me as well
I see me in them

You got me started!! Thanks for the encouragement...lol.

One more. I wrote a lot the other night, but I'll think of a new one just for you.

Peaceful clarity
in a brook that flows with time
My pure reflection

Willow Haven writes 10/20/98

Moonlight's silver beams
Midnight sky; velvet canvas
Stars shine like diamonds.

*smile*

or..lol.

A midnight canvas:
Shining on my auburn curls.
Moonlight's silver beams.

Just finding new ways to express the same meaning. Thank you."

Moonlight's silver beams
against the Midnight canvas
my hair shines like fire

Changchup Kocha writes 10/20/98

Stuart Reed writes 10/20/98

Very Long Horns

I May Go Green

With Friends Like These

Overheard On The High Street

E.G. Acker Bilk

It Caught The Tide

Driven To Drink

And his Ackermen
Have somehow tracked me down with
Their Ackerman wine.

Katie Lowell writes 10/20/98

Rachelle Killian writes 10/20/98

Unome writes 10/20/98

unome writes 10/20/98

Ed Shustack writes 10/19/98

Opportunity
Vanishes like smoke in wind
When apathy rules

Heartache comes and brings
Intense pain throughout the mind
Lasting a lifetime

President tells lies
Forgive him those trespasses
Our bellies are full

Role models all gone
Morality losing ground
Country does not care

Leader of nation
Slithers beneath all contempt
Polls show approval

Honkytonk Lady
Plays a cheating song and leaves
Tears on the jukebox

Whatever, Whomever writes 10/19/98

Sergei Braun writes 10/18/98

each moment’s unique,
fresh, tasty, brightly colored...
and lost forever

Frantic ladybird
on the desert of my palm
hastens to the bluff.

Shari Clevenger writes 10/18/98

The poet comments, " In case you can't tell, this is my first Haiku, a creative writing assgn. Just wanted to get any reaction! Thanks for a great website! Shari"

We liked it!

Stuart Reed writes 10/17/98

The Colossality of Rome

Moving on is not
My strong suit. I go slow with
The devil I know.

The name of this cow
Is Melody, which is a
Mellifluous name.

In my dotage, I've
Developed a passion for
Comforting motions.

Crossing oneself is
OK but better to lay
Your hand on your gut.

I kid you not. A
La Vincent Vega as played
By John Travolta.

For lasting comfort,
Spread the flat of your hand flat
Across your stomach.

Trust Italians
To come up with comforting
Motions. All that guilt.

Melody's Moods

The poet comments, "Post-partum translates into post-natal in the human world. The above were written whilst milking cows. "

Deliverance

Lucan writes 10/16/98

A. Brown writes 10/15/98

Laur writes 10/15/98

The poet comments, "I've been away so long! Lost my computer in the divorce, but I'm back... So much has happened in the last 2 years, unfortunately, not much time to write haiku, hope that changes soon. I'm so glad you guys are still here."

Welcome back, Laur!

Stuart Reed writes 10/14/98

Cultivate The Following

An artiste seeks to
Cultivate a following.
Fans hear artistes sing.

Some peripheral
Peregrinations are called
Peripatetic.

Diogenes thought
That life in a barrel was
A barrel of laughs.

To all intents and
Purposes, his thinking was
Clearly pathetic.

Nonetheless, had he
But known it, he's now viewed as
Being authentic.

Why? Well, life in a
Barrel brings forth perceptive
Perspectives. To wit,

Toast Point did not receive another verse to this...

Joe Gill writes 10/12/98

Mrelia writes 10/12/98

Mary Hutchinson writes 10/12/98

Lebop writes 10/12/98

With a wild white gust
Come in the whirling children
And the laughing snow!

Gray sky, empty road,
Raven picking at pink bones;
Its cold, this rain.

A country road,
Incredible stars....a dog
Barking in the night.

If it could always
Be as now.....the children
Laughing in the park.

But the sun sets
And long shadows sweep the park
Of Children.

Stuart Reed writes 10/12/98

The poet comments, "The first one is called 'Sweating Oxen.' The next one is called 'I Steadily Sped.'"

Having rushed headlong
Into being steadfast, I've
Passed my sell-by date.

The poet comments, "The next five are called 'Longshoremen Long To Be Sure.'"

Schizophrenia
Is two sides of multiple
Personalities.

Circumstances tend
To dictate what will surface
And what lays in wait.

His job is murky.
Extricating sanity from
The muddy madness.

Muddy Waters sang
The blues and are what all the
Madmen long to lose.

The poet comments, "The next three are called 'Hall Of Mirrors.'"

Saddled with being
Multi-faceted, we get
Exasperated.

We must always ask
Ourselves which one of us is
Doing the talking.

The answer depends,
Friends, on which one of us is
Doing the asking.

The poet comments, "The last one is called 'Earth In The Air.'"

Small potatoes are
Packed into hefty sacks, stacked
At the greengrocer's.

Mrelia writes 10/11/98

The poet comments, "The butterflies migrate through our part of Texas this time every year. It's a mess!"

Stuart Reed writes 10/10/98

Lynn Kolenich writes 10/09/98

Stuart Reed writes 10/07/98

Genes Are Full Of Beans

I smell the blood of
An Englishman. They who dump
On Angles get axed.

Anglo-Saxons were
Not put upon by Picts or
Celts. Romans neither.

TatuNurse writes 10/10/98

I hear the slurping
Yankaur suction tip in hand
keeping wounds blood free

Nurses with laptops
record patient's condition
for Doctors to read

The poet comments, "*this was written while on the operating table, while having a bone spur removed*"

Stuart Reed writes 10/09/98

The Call Of The Wild

It's advantageous
Not to be outrageous, but
So titillating.

Verbal Hi-jinks

Numismatists Don't Coin Phrases

Crank That Jive

A shared care is a
Care halved. Half the care gets starved
For affection. Dies.

Go tell that to the
Cranky hermit. He permits
Very few hi-fives.

Ginger writes 10/09/98

Lynn Kolenich writes 10/09/98

Sharing and caring
A whole new experience
Spring after winter

Inferno writes 10/08/98

Mihajlo Mika Pavlovic writes 10/08/98

The Wind Roar

The Wave's Roar

The Owl's Roar

The Torrent Roar

Anonymous writes 10/08/98

Vid Vukasovic writes 10/08/98

The poet comments, "It semed that the kite was motionless for a second or too."

A cockroach on the wall
makes this rainy morning
even more unpleasant.

Thomas Lanier writes 10/08/98

Eric T. Anderson writes 10/07/98

leaves blow in the wind
falling on the frosted ground
a whisper of cold

Stuart Reed writes 10/07/98

By The Wayside

Ale Caused Me To Ail

Genes Are Full Of Beans

How Far Will YOu Fare?

They'll Tumble To You

Listen Up, Dude

I smell the blood of
An Englishman. They who dump
On Angles get axed.

Anglo-Saxons were
Not put upon by Picts or
Celts. Romans neither.

So today we think
Of our swear words as being
Anglo-Saxon. Rude.

Picts, Celts and Romans
Were, it would seem, first rate prudes,
Compared to Angles.

Blow me down with a
Feather, Trevor, the Angles
Wrote better poems.

CAVAC KOLOK writes 10/07/98

Hey, welcome back!

Mindy Trenn writes 10/06/98

Dandelion puffs
drift lightly over new grass
and kiss the flowers.

The warm breeze dances
with my curtains and rebels
against my cold heart.

His legs are soft on
mine as he quietly dreams
under a new moon.

One warm moonlit night
my innocence is shattered...
stars fall in sorrow.

I'm drunk on your love...
My grin is silly on this
cool October night.

The darkness of this
moonless night cannot invade
this light in my soul.

Jim Overton writes 10/06/98

Deep in coldest space
dark stars burn for untold years
Their ashes my bones.

Terrible lizards
never thought their day would pass
Our clock still ticks

Stuart Reed writes 10/05/98

Rural Lore

Gross as it may sound,
Pull it round by sticking your
Finger in its eye.

Halted In My Tracks

Salts Decry Haste

Lots of lesser lights
Will put a crimp in your style,
But salts will add taste.

Salted Beauty

Specifically,
The mystery of a salt
Is held in his hands.

That is to say, look
No further. Salts stick fingers
Into calves' eye sockets.

And it sounds really
Ugly, but the end result
Is beautiful life.

Mighty Slight

Notches in one's belt
May be the cause of heartfelt
Or heartless applause.

And might might make right.
Pigs might take flight. The chances,
You might say, are slight.

Our Men, Too, Have A Menu

Localised Oak Trees

New it may not be,
But new may not be what we
Seek, taking a peek.

We may seek that which
Has withstood the test of time.
Like your local oak.

Somewhat Shady

Leisurely Pleasure Me

He's wrinkled and shrunk,
But remembers what it was
Like when he had spunk.

He remembers both
Pungency and urgency,
And sighs leisurely.

Lorelei Lamperski writes 10/03/98

The poet comments, ""To the person I secretly love..""

Stuart Reed writes 10/03/98

Priceless Nomenclature

I am asked "What is
Their price?" And I think 'Their names
Alone are priceless.'

Anonymous writes 10/03/98

Toast Point removed the initially-granted star when tipped off that the first two lines are quoted from a famous haiku. But he still likes it.

Whatever, Whomever writes 10/03/98

Stuart Reed writes 10/03/98

Homeboys

Mine And Mine Alone

Ahem

Talk About A Stylus

In fact, I think all
Writers should write a paean
To the Pilot pen.

Extra, Extra

Whilst scribeners
Have discovered the Pilot pen.
Mine is Extra Fine.

Glory Hallefuckinglujah

And your hand will flow
As never before. You'll write
Poetry galore.

The Convivial Codfish writes 10/02/98

Mrelia writes 10/01/98

Old man to the store
Weather-beaten pickup truck
No dust in its wake