Posts Tagged ‘haiku’

One haiku per idea/update.

November 1, 2010

If I found a job
that paid as much as wifey’s
I might just take it.

My weight stayed the same
this week, just as I knew it
would. Help me recharge.

NaNoWriMo starts
I have a month of writing
to make a thin book.

Molars burn in hell!
You are horrible shitheads
and we all hate you.

Last night I saw the
last ever episode of
Dawson’s Creek. Oh my.

I am eating through
a tin of Halloween stuff.
A billion Snickers.

I wish we had lots
of time and money. And lived
on a private isle.


Yesterday, in haiku:

March 16, 2010

Babies on the floor
flailing all the fuck around
how will I catch them?

You keep on screaming
I know you want your milk, dude
give me a minute.

You tricked me again
I sit here feeling bemused
I am a twin mom.

Batteries dying
bouncy chair fucking freaky
gothic sounding tunes.

Mama needs nachos
so hungry she will eat YOU
watch out, little twins.

Poop on your toes, my nails
an arc of pee flies overhead
boy, this is so fun.

You are both asleep
so this is my chance to pee.
Motherhood is grand.

Should be doing this:
writing book, peeing, sleeping.
Twitter ruins my life.

Both babies awake
I missed my chance to go pee
the toilet mourns me.

Every time you burp
it feels like my own triumph
I OWN you, baby.

Judge not, non-twin moms
I should have changed my knickers
minipad instead

I am lots of things:
but ‘more asleep than awake’
describes me today

I am an artist
baby fingernails my art
pass me the clippers.

Three fifty two now
feels like midnight at least
I’m overtired

I keep smelling shit
Who did it this time? ANSWER ME.
I will sniff your butt.

Bride of Chucky on
feels so very dirty
baby twins in room.

YES! Scored a free toy
the Tiny Love Apple, yum
Freegle, I love you

My twins laugh and laugh
her fingers in his mouth and
her feet in his hands.

Painful invention
auto-repeat, more Chucky
and his doll bride too.

Going to bed now
impossibly long long day
worn out from the fun.

I tweeted mostly in haiku yesterday, though I also spoke in sentences about my period, how everything smelled like farts, and my fear of overlarge babydolls. Ah, more high brow reasons for you to follow me on Twitter Plus, we can chat and take it to the next level, ifyouknowwhatimean *leer*.

haiku, it takes less time.

August 22, 2009

one-handed typing
pumping like a big moo cow
from my left boobie.

standards of hygiene
appear to be slipping fast
vomit on my arm.

happy to say that knickers
finally fit me and, oh joy,
have some room to spare.

last night tmd
brought me a baby and a
big ass milk carton

the sort adults
pour on cereal. she gets
confused at nighttime.

also gave me breast pads
when i asked for inhalers,
bless her cotton socks.

my cotton socks house
swollen ankles and talon
toenails. roar! beware!

have i mentioned that
we think our babies are awe-
some? we really do.

let’s see, what else to
say. spd very bad,
five to six months to clear up.

almost time to switch
boobs. have so much more to say.
will try later on.

in the meantime, folks,
i have a son and daughter
who need some lovin’.


They won’t let me wear deodorant.

December 2, 2008

So, what happens tomorrow?

1. I stop eating at midnight tonight. I have nothing to drink after 4/5 am tomorrow morning.

2. I arrive at the clinic by 8:45 for my egg collection, scheduled at 10:30.

3. No doubt all the risks and things will be run through with me. I’ll also get a load of information for the next stage of treatment.

4. Prior to the op, I stick some pessaries up my ‘rectal passage.’ One for pain, one to prevent infection. I’m not sure how effective these will be as I will probably literally be shitting myself with nerves.

5. I get sedated! The nurse said this is not being awake, but not being asleep. Way to be specific.

6. Under ultrasound guidance, a needle is inserted into my vagina. It pierces the vaginal wall to go through to first one ovary, then the other. I suppose it will pierce each individual follicle and suck the eggs out. This takes 15-20 minutes in total.

7. I spend 1-2 hours in recovery (until I can pee normally and eat without vomiting. Nice). I find out how many mature eggs were collected. Those eggs are whisked off somewhere to be fertilised.

8. We take two taxis and a train home. I cross my fingers that my little egglings are doing well. I probably shit myself some more.

Then Thursday we get the call saying how many eggs have fertilised. I get all antsy thinking about embryos needing to go back in on Thursday – I’ll still probably be quite sore and TMD might have already gone into work. This means that we’ll make our individual ways to the clinic, which would be a bit of a bummer. I’m going to clarify with them tomorrow what time they think they’ll call, and perhaps TMD can have some flexibility about going into work.

Apparently spotting and abdominal cramping is normal after this procedure. Tampons are verboden, but I don’t like them anyway. Nor do I wear nail varnish or make up – two no-nos for the op tomorrow. Chemical type things + eggs = bad.

I am deeply grossed out about not wearing deodorant. I will definitely be bringing along my wee Nivea bottle to spray on me once we’re cleared to leave.

Nivea and hospitals. This is so reminiscent of the past summer.

In other news, we bought a de-humidifier last night and I wasn’t even tempted by my inhalers. I don’t want to take them during pregnancy, so it bodes well that last night went so well. I should actually go check on that thing. You would NOT believe how much water it’s sucked out of the air.

Even the grey clouds can’t get me down.

September 24, 2008

Today is shaping up into an altogether tasty day. Highlights include:

1. My new career as an envelope decorator. One of the children I work with has a birthday soon, and I have rarely enjoyed coloured pens and stickers so much.

2. Myself and a friend at work are talking entirely in Haiku.

3. The session I was anxious about all last night was kickin’. I took the lead and I think it went really well. A little of my confidence is back.

4. My sister and I are exchanging very long emails about very big stuff. It feels gorgeous.

The only thing that would make today better is if I already had my license and TMD had left the car at home, allowing me to drive and pick up dinner. She’s out really late this evening, and I really fancy chips.

The only blight in my day, which is actually so screwy I kind of enjoy it, is that my septum really fucking hurts if I push up on it. I think this is my nose’s way of telling me it is not happy that it is not pierced. Damn TMD for repiercing her nose and looking so good – and not wanting to be ‘twins*.’ She wants to be ‘a cool lesbian mum.’

I will have to find a way to be cool. I suspect it will involve envelopes in some way.

Peace out, bro’. For reals.

* Besides, I tell her, you aren’t twins with someone if opposite sides of the nose are pierced. Dental health be damned, I never should have taken out my tongue ring. That’s cooler than the nose thing any day.

A taste sensation.

August 27, 2008

My stitches: sort of
red and puffy, as well as
leaking white glob things.

Finally. Math that makes sense.

August 21, 2008

Love your houdini.
Haiku plus houdini is
seven syllables.

And soon another child will come.

August 15, 2008

Got to work and spent
an hour with a toddler,
a mish-mash of fun.

Have I told you late-
ly that I love you, my job?
Well, I really do.

Ode to the men’s gymnasts.

August 14, 2008

Olympics: A chance
to watch ‘world class’ atheletes bruise
their muscled asses.

Wishlist of love. (Or: obsessive tabbing.)

August 14, 2008

I want an orange pen.
I talk about it a lot.
I found a website.

My friend from work just
said, ‘It is almost your birthday.
Do you want a pen?’

I sent her the link.
I consider this proof that
I have influence.