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As many a school child has been, I was captivated by the seeming simplicity of the Haiku form of poetry. Three lines, 17 syllables and no rhyming necessary. Just enough rules to recognise the form, but not enough to make it boring. Furthermore, I found Haiku to have a rhythm not far off the short, clipped cadence of the rural Kentucky people I admired so much. My parents, grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and various friends of the family spoke in a way that often seemed simple, but bore generations of wisdom and lingering insights into the workings of the world. Phrases that said far more than the sum of their words like "that dog won't hunt"[The item or person in question is not fit for purpose], "a cat in a room full of rocking chairs"[the said person or animal is quite nervous], and "like a mule eating briars" [a forced smile that is less than genuine]. It was through this lens that I began to look further into the Haiku and its predecessors. The connection with nature and the seasons agreed with my rural folk. The sly surprise often found in the meaning and the willingness to sit back and let something sink in found resonance with me and my folk as well. This website and the publications you find herein are my little contribution to the people I respect in a literary form that may be geographically displaced, but kin in any other fashion.

A word on the study of Japanese poetry. As many of you will know and just a little bit of research will show, there are many questions and arguments about forms, requirements and the history of the Haiku and its related forms. I have used what seems to me to be as close to consensus as I can find on the subjects. With this in mind, I constructed all of these poems in strict accordance with tradition, except when it didn't suit me none.

This site is dedicated to the people I loved to hear speak, but only spoke when it was needed.

15% of all profits will be given to Save the Children's "America's Forgotten Chldren" campaign to help relieve the effects of poverty on America's children of the rural poor, through literacy and nutrition.

behind the hay

behind new baled hay,
sweltering heat in two forms
recursive rednecks

september lie

indian summer
extended warmth tells a lie
to an abrupt frost

Recursive Rednecks

{work in progress}

behind new baled hay,
sweltering heat in two forms
recursive rednecks

boy holds tight an ample girl
girl holds tight a rugged boy

indian summer

hillbilly plumbers

first hard frost looks nice
but it strikes cold in the hearts of
hillbilly plumbers

dogwood blossoms

spring dogwood blossoms
raise the spirit of my dead
mother in my heart

budding oak

first robin alights
on the budding oak, next to
the wheel-less chevelle

pecan whacking

pecans rattle on
the ground where we are swinging
a long pole above

well

there ai'nt much worse than
striking sulfur while digging
a well in the heat

window frost

through the window frost
out on my back porch I see
my washing machine

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