Haikan Do It Two

The Perks Of Being A Gooseberry
Of course I want you
To be happy; but if that
Makes me feel worthless,

Unwanted, like a
Discarded Evening Standard…
Now I’m not so sure.

Maybe if your world
Were to fall apart, if your
Most perfect union

Were to crumble and
Fall about you in ruins,
I might feel better.

But what would that make
Me? Fucked up as I am, I
Still do love my friends.

To abandon that
For naught but schadenfreude?
I may as well be

Dead. If ever I
Sank to such depths, I would not
Deserve to live.

Be happy, my friends.
Some day I might be as well.
Till then, be happy.


‘I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.’ – Walt Whitman.

I believe this is from a letter Whitman wrote, but I couldn’t find the exact source. I’d be grateful if anyone could enlighten me on that point (or indeed enlighten me if it wasn’t in fact Whitman).


Haikan Do It

I’ve wanted to do one of these for a long time. I started writing haiku a few years ago and I love the precision and elegance of the form. Condensing ideas into a tight space is about all that gets me through each day.

Words That Wake
Night’s boon, sleep’s bane. Morpheus
Robbed to pay the Muse.

Four o’clock is no
Time to wander these narrow
Streets all by yourself.

Some nights they’re peaceful,
But those twice- and thrice-blessed nights
Are mere memories.

These streets tend rather
To be loud, messy…fun? Like
Riding a tiger.

But if I had to
Choose: my words, or peace of mind?
Coffee and a pen.


“A word is dead
When it’s been said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.”
― Emily Dickinson, LXXXIX