My Favorite Haiku from Long, Long Ago

Some of you may remember when the Haiku of the Day was a part of this blog.  That era has fizzled out, but I’ve compiled here some of my favorites.  They’re not necessarily the best or purist haiku, but the images they conjure and their personal meanings for me make them special.  I hope you enjoy revisiting these as much as I do 🙂

(3/25)   Whispers in the wind

Tales of the past spinning about

Etched in the leaves


(3/22)   Unable to reach out

Taking a plunge from the sky

Nest crashes down


(3/12)   Like lightning in the air

Galloping against the wind

Run forever


(2/7)   Lonely atmosphere

Asleep for the afternoon

Buzzing quietly


(1/9)   Wading through the thorns

Refuse to release their hold

Prickly old friends


(1/3)   Away away now

Warmth disappears in colors of fire



(12/30)   A willow tree

Mourns the loss of her greenery

Beauty dead and gone

As I scrolled through the extensive collection of poems that I accumulated over the months, I noticed some key points.  Most of them relate somehow to nature, like traditional haiku.  I remember some days struggling to come up with some new element of nature I hadn’t used yet…some of the haiku were rough, to say the least.  However, they got significantly better through time.  Even though I don’t do HOD anymore, I’m pleased to say that it helped my grow as a writer and poet.  To those who supported me while I was doing this, thank you so much!  I really appreciate it.  These days I keep moving forward with new plans, but who knows?  Maybe I’ll revisit HOD for a time in the future!


School Clothes ≠ Pajamas

Alright, kids, here’s the deal:

I know public school is great because there aren’t uniforms, however that doesn’t mean you can wear pajamas to school. I’m sorry, but that is pushing it too far.

High school culture is lazy enough (I already watch people trudge through the morning classes with their eyes half-closed, clinging to their coffee for dear life); I don’t want to see another person walk through the door wearing sweatpants, yoga pants, pajama pants, or slippers ever again. That’s right. People wear slippers to school.

In my opinion, not only is dressing so “down” a sign of disrespect to teachers and the general learning community, it reflects poorly on the students dressed that way. The pajama look gives off vibes of sloth and a sense that you don’t care about anything (appearance included!)

This changes everything.

I’m usually pretty tolerant of people’s style choices, but this was really irking me lately. Thanks for letting me ramble for a while.


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A Cute Awakening

I drove by myself for the first time a few days after I got my license. I didn’t really need to go anywhere, I was just itching to go SOMEWHERE. I drove through some of the streets near my neighborhood, then ventured out a little further.

There’s a huge hill near the end of my street. I went down it, with extra caution because there was still some snow on the ground. I rounded the corner––radio on, endorphins pumping from the thrill of the hill and the rush of my first drive––when a little white puppy (barely visible against the blanket of snow) ran across the street. Thankfully, I saw it in time to stop and allow it to scuttle to the other side.

The dog was absolutely adorable; I don’t know what I would have done had I hit it. That experience taught me to be a more observant driver. Now, whenever I drive, I think of a little white puppy around every turn.

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…Because Giant Monsters Make Everything Better

After an absence of a few weeks, I have returned!  Be sure to check out all the apologies and other exciting things I posted earlier today.  To come back with a bang, here’s a short piece I wrote on the history, influence, and significance of Godzilla!  Enjoy!

Godzilla, the giant lizard-monster famous for terrorizing Japan, has survived in media for over 50 years and continues to be an icon of Japanese culture.  Since Godzilla’s not-so-humble beginning in the 1954 film “Gojira” (the Japanese name for Godzilla), the monster has been in movies set in several countries––each time used to allegorically showcase their fears.  Today Godzilla (and other giant monsters that spawned from the original’s success such as Mothra, Rodan, and King Ghidorah) is known worldwide, but the spirit of Godzilla and the monster genre it created remain purely Japanese.
The behemoth originally represented the threat of nuclear war in the wake of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  The United States swiftly created a Godzilla film of its own, disregarding the original plot, but nonetheless Godzilla became popular in America.  Godzilla’s American popularity continued as other monsters swept through Japanese cinema: Movies like “King Kong vs Godzilla,” “Mothra vs Godzilla,” and “Godzilla vs the Thing” introduced new monsters that turned Godzilla into somewhat of a hero.  Instead of being a metaphor for Japanese fears, the monster itself began defending the nation from terrorists, pollution, invading aliens, and their giant monster representations.  To the observer, the change of Godzilla’s role in the movies shows that it had been completely absorbed and became a true icon.
As much as Americans ate up the Godzilla franchise, the concept is completely Japanese.  Japan produced something successful because everyone could relate to it.  In 1954 the threat of nuclear war was very real for Japan, and other countries had fears of their own.  Whether it’s demolishing the Tokyo Tower or crushing waves of U.S. troops, Godzilla is the embodiment of fear on a national level.  Japan’s interpretation of that fear gave the nation massive amounts of soft power as Godzilla infiltrated the movie theaters around the world.  The influence the monster had––its movies, action figures, collectables––was so immense that the original film spawned more than 20 sequels, companions, and spin-offs.  Though Godzilla may have lost its original metaphor for nuclear war, it exists today as a slate to which any fear could be applied, and an international icon that preserves an important piece of Japanese history.

Still Not Dead. Maybe Undead?

Hey all,

You may have noticed I’ve been “absent” for quite a while now.  Please accept my apologies and rest assured that I’ll make up the few posts for postaweek that I missed.  In fact, I’m posting one later today!  My life has just been very hectic and demanding, ergo, blogging wasn’t as big a priority as it has been in the past.  Well, I’m doing my best to get back on track! 🙂

I’m going to try something…I’m overjoyed that MuseSpark is starting to build up a bit of an audience!  So, for those of you that have been supporting me by reading and commenting, thank you so much!  I’ve been hesitant to do this out of fear that I’d get no responses, but I’m going to poll you––What would you like to see more of on this blog?  (Perhaps in the future I’ll create real WordPress polls, but I’ll see how this goes first.)

Leave a comment with anything you have to say; I’ll take it all!

Wow.  I sound like an annoying YouTuber.  Ick.

I hope everyone is well!


We’re in the theater rehearsing our winter play. It’s a delightful comedy.

She misses a cue. This is the girl who is so involved, so passionate about so many things. Constantly under pressure, using theater to escape. Despite her reasons, she’s a great actress. Just not in that moment.

She breaks down. Crouching down on the stage to hide her tears, her character melts away. The all-seeing eyes of the director suffocate her, squeezing the tears out. She picks up the pieces of her composure––a mosaic of distress, sorrow, and defeat.

It was never supposed to happen; it was a mistake. But as I passively observed her breakdown in the theater she was more herself than I had ever seen before.

True story.