We bow to the Queen of Queens, the King of Kings, our Father/Mother God.
Unafraid of my cigarette, a brave butterfly brushes my cheek.
The lost and forsaken are but tarnished silver, living in boxes.
When Cheryl's good she's a gem in cement, but when she's bad she's awful.
Hungry cats in my kitchen run to their dishes faster than fishes.
Black angel stands tall washing dishes as if it's a sacred duty.
rc
*These were not set up properly. It is interesting to note that Walt Whitman originally did not set up his lines properly, and after someone told him to do that, his work looked better and was easier to understand. They will look completely different now.
(17 syllables, but not really haiku unless set up like a poem.):
Unafraid of my cigarette,
a brave butterfly brushes
my cheek.
The lost and forsaken are but
tarnished silver,
living in boxes.
When Cheryl's good she's a gem
in cement,
but when she's bad she's awful.
Black angel stands tall
washing dishes as if
it's a sacred duty.
Hungry cats in my kitchen
run to their dishes
faster than fishes.
We bow to the
Queen of Queens,
the King of Kings,
our Father/Mother God.
rc
Unafraid of my cigarette, a brave butterfly brushes my cheek.
The lost and forsaken are but tarnished silver, living in boxes.
When Cheryl's good she's a gem in cement, but when she's bad she's awful.
Hungry cats in my kitchen run to their dishes faster than fishes.
Black angel stands tall washing dishes as if it's a sacred duty.
rc
*These were not set up properly. It is interesting to note that Walt Whitman originally did not set up his lines properly, and after someone told him to do that, his work looked better and was easier to understand. They will look completely different now.
(17 syllables, but not really haiku unless set up like a poem.):
Unafraid of my cigarette,
a brave butterfly brushes
my cheek.
The lost and forsaken are but
tarnished silver,
living in boxes.
When Cheryl's good she's a gem
in cement,
but when she's bad she's awful.
Black angel stands tall
washing dishes as if
it's a sacred duty.
Hungry cats in my kitchen
run to their dishes
faster than fishes.
We bow to the
Queen of Queens,
the King of Kings,
our Father/Mother God.
rc
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