Today’s haiku challenge:
My style is the five/seven/five syllable structure. Here are my 10 haiku poems:
i stopped making a
profit a long time ago.
running in the red.
quick: get rich, profit
with me, mad prophet, seeing
red rather than black.
the things that made me
rich wasn’t money or gold bars;
it was her brown eyes.
we turned a profit
once — the mad couple of the
airwaves — static now.
depression has all
the profit in its ledger
buried within me.
anxiety has
all the profit, too, buried
somewhere in the yard.
do glam kids profit
off of depression like its
Celiac’s disease?
when I die, profit
off of my carcass, parade
its organs around.
a bee is rich in
the honey up to its wings —
better than profit.
as king, the lion
doesn’t need profit; he trades
in his roars, not scores.
