And Now, Goth Haiku, From Athena

And it is thus:

Sorrow in my soul.
Death is bound to everyone.
There’s no point in life.

Heavy, man. Just… wow. Note to self: give daughter a good long hug.

(Athena adds: “Of course none of this is how I actually feel but I just felt like writing it. Hope you enjoyed.” Whew!)

Add your own goth haiku in the comment thread. See if you can out-goth a 12-year-old. I dare you.

116 Comments on “And Now, Goth Haiku, From Athena”

  1. The grave’s soft embrace;
    Love is a bitter lie’s dream.
    Dying bats in my heart.

    —————

    Ennui, discontent:
    Peter Murphy’s Greatest Hits
    *hand*staple*forehead*

  2. Tumbleweed @1: That’s out-twelve-year-olding a twelve-year-old. You’re supposed to out-GOTH her. Lessee.

    O! my life is done
    bleeding out on white lace dress
    My vampire left me.

  3. Forlorn words pour out
    like a fetid gazpacho
    from my rancid soul

  4. First of all, you have to be 12 to out goth her and the haiku. So, I’ll try to reach into my inner self as was my inner self way back at my close to birth 12 year old age. Hmmmm…

    LOL. Tumbleweed just cracked me up. Okay, all seriousness. I can and will do this….

    My love is unforgiving
    Children forget the unforgiving parent
    Parents forgive their children,

  5. (poetic license: Athena’s POV:)

    My father’s web page
    Filled with summer goth haiku
    Oh! What hath Dad wrought?

  6. Crap, I was supposed to out Goth the 12 year old? Really? It’s not possible! Goth and 12 year olds are the same thing. Adults have no clue how to do it. Good luck suckers!! Scalzi’s playing you all!

  7. An Haiku take on an old t-shirt slogan:

    I am so goth-y
    Whenever I flatulate
    Bats fly out rectum

  8. And I thought I found
    True love; you met another
    And *pthththbbb* you was gone

    Hee-Haw was goth before it was cool.

  9. Jeanne – I'm a reader, a writer, a mother, a wife, an ailurophile, a Writing Center Director, and a PhD in English Literature (specializing in Rhetoric and Composition and literature of the Eighteenth Century).
    Jeanne

    Necromancy fails
    to satisfy bloodlust
    Satanism’s next

  10. My black eyeliner runs
    Rivulets etch pain like tears
    from This Mortal Coil

    I bleached my black shirt.
    The Death Guild bouncer mocks me.
    Woe, I am poseur.

  11. endless darkness gloom
    light’s existence tenuous
    no bulbs no bulbs none

  12. Summertime writing
    Children screaming in my ear
    Please, give me a break

    (Or, failing that, earplugs)

  13. Await dreams, loves, life;
    There is always tomorrow.
    Until there is not.

    Grieving love unsaid.
    Someday tomorrow will fail.
    Tell them today, OK?

  14. (Also fine; final polish on the haikus for the deaths of the first, a mench who threw his life at the world with love, and reaped grander treasures and stories and loves and adventures than any ten fictional characters; and the second, a pair of high school classmates, grandmothers both, who’ve died too young, of cancer, at 63 and 64. Miss you, Chuck, Gina, Sheryl.)

  15. midnight raven tears
    golden liquor surrender
    in eyes like death’s dreams

    It’s about a depressed raven, which I think is probably the most gothic thing I know of.

  16. Light fails to the west
    hope travels along it’s wake
    Death will take me now

    I travel this life
    using a one way ticket
    live forever? no

    I’m not sure if I Goth well.
    I’m generally to effing happy

  17. Wearing bondage pants
    around the mall on weekends
    Is totally goth.

  18. Ooh, here’s one from Stephan Colbert:

    Blood in the urine;

    a tingling down the left arm?

    Walk it off, grandma.

  19. Sometimes, sacking Rome,
    Like a mildewy cookie:
    It’s just not worth it.

    Oh wait, you did mean Visigoth, right?

  20. I wish my front lawn
    Was all moody and goth
    So it would cut itself

    I know, extra syllable on the last line, but totally worth it.

  21. Claws rending my flesh
    Fetid odour wafts message
    Clean the litter box!

    btw, Aaron @ 59: just drop “So”. Makes the statement stronger too.

  22. Temps in seventies
    For first time in hundred years
    or so. Life is good.

    It’s possible I’ve missed the point.

  23. Blood drips in my veins.
    Ice congeals my lonely heart.
    Pointless suffering.

    I think this contest is in a L.J. Smith book.

  24. coo1b1ue – Vermont – I'm a software engineer within the aerospace industry as well as a father of four (mostly) grown children, one of which served in Iraq (OIF2) as a combat medic.
    Frank

    Joyful is my soul
    Life is bound to everyone
    There is no point in life

  25. A friend demanded that I post this bit of IRC detritus here. I have no idea what the original context was:

    the pain and blood flow
    joy seeps from me like childbirth
    sale at hot topic

  26. I’d argue that lacking any connection to gothic romance/horror, that the original haiku is simply emo.

    I yearn for the end
    where Cthulhu fhtagn.
    Madness? No, Sparta.

  27. Sorry, I can only write haiku for what I Know: middle age ennui.

    Sorrow in the fridge:
    Someone ate my chocolate.
    You must pay dearly!

    It may not matter to you, but it was Good chocolate!

  28. WARNING! Do not read this thread if you are feeling suicidal. Oops, too late.

  29. No one can out-goth a 12 year old girl. Fortunately, they survive and only realize how awful it is in retrospect. :)

  30. D. Paul Angel – I am in my 40’s (the new "20" they say!), am originally from California, and now live in Portland, OR, but would eventually like to "retire" to Hawaii. I am, most definitely, a “Nerd’s Nerd.” I can recite huge tracts of Monty Python, can force Star Wars quotes into nearly any conversation, find serenity amongst fireflies, enjoy hitchhiking to the beach with my towel in hand (remember the Hawaii bit), have found precious little to dislike about Tolkien, and find any argument favoring Picard over Kirk to be both fascinating and most illogical. My foundation in Science Fiction began with Asimov, but Heinlein’s wit brought it to the front of my conscious. Although I am still recovering from the amount of time spent wheeling through Jordan and Sanderson’s epic, I have found long series, such as Scalzi’s, no longer make me feel like an old man (The new 20, right!?). I've always had a love of comics, particularly the far side of Bloom County where Calvin lived, often casting pearls before swine whilst doing the foxtrot over the hedge. Even though I already have 2 puppy-dogs I love, Zack and Satia, I can’t help but think how awesome having a magical creature would be; even if I do worry that caring for it would leave me feeling hagrid. I am more comfortable tweeting than facebooking, and I'm not athletic enough to be a tumblr. I'm also an airplane nerd and a licensed, albeit non-current, pilot. I've travelled enough to know I want to travel more, I've read, cover to cover, The Bible, Koran, Book of Mormon, Science and Health, and a smattering of Eastern philosophies, and I was one of the early board members of Cerimon House. I can bake bread from scratch, grill, and cook; and I've failed, miserably, in learning at least 4 different programming languages. I write, commit photography, and am learning the ins and out of drawing and illustration. I have long straddled that shady realm between the wholly physical and utterly imaginative, and I'm working towards taking up residence in the latter. I'm an expert in all forms of philosophocating, but find it is best done with open eyes, compassion, and humor; preferably with pleasant company, snacks, and an ample supply of delicious beverages. I have also been known to make the occasional pun.
    D Paul Angel

    Shunned by all the Goth’s,
    For being such a downer,
    I go full Emo.

  31. By Grabthar’s Hammer
    By the twin suns of Morvan
    You shall be avenged.

    It’s gothier if you know Grabthar and see how gloomy the dual shadows are at Morvan. Just sayin’.

  32. Just read Fuzzy Book
    Please write a sequel, Scalzi!
    Your voice suits the tale.

    Also, while I’m making irrational fan demands: My 7 year old is mad because I said she’s too young to read your books. She demands that you write a middle grade novel for her pleasure. Also, she thinks a few picture books would be good for her younger sibs. I suggest you get to work, because she is VERY IMPATIENT.

    Now, for some actual gothness:

    Gleaming knife, moonlight
    taunting me with sweet relief
    from my shallow peers

    (That one would get you kicked out of school in a jiffy!)

  33. shineanthology – Jetse de Vries is a technical specialist for a propulsion company, and used to travel the world for this. Of late, due to the increased time both his story writing and several future editing projects are taking up, he's trying to settle into a desk job by giving both the company’s own specialists and customers training courses. He was part of the Interzone editorial team from March 2004 until September 2008. His non-fiction articles, reviews, essays and interviews have appeared in Interzone, The Fix, New York Review of Science Fiction, Focus, and others. He writes SF since 1999, and had his first story published in November 2003. His stories have appeared in about two dozen publications on both sides of the Atlantic, and include Amityville House of Pancakes, vol. 1, JPPN 2, Nemonymous 4, Northwest Passages: A Cascadian Anthology, DeathGrip: Exit Laughing, HUB Magazine #2, Clarkesworld Magazine, SF Waxes Philosophical, Postscripts 14 and Flurb, amongst others. They're upcoming in the A Mosque Among the Stars anthology (slated for September 2008) and another, yet-to-be-named anthology in 2009. Jetse has a blog at: http://eclipticplane.blogspot.com/
    Jetse

    Free after the S.O.D. song:

    “Kill yourself, kill your-
    self, why don’t you kill yourself
    End it all right now”

    (NOTE: like the S.O.D. song this is meant tongue-in-cheek…;-)

    Or:

    “Kill yourself: why not?
    Don’t rely on no one else
    End it all right now!”

  34. My 12 year-old son Alaric felt inspired to try to outdo Athena:

    I am a mistake
    I do not deserve to live
    Death shall come to me

    I felt inspired to mock my son:

    I am a mistake
    A mere accident of fate
    “Oops, I think it broke”

  35. Ash and splintered bone.
    Sole remains of cherished one.
    Numbness steals my voice.

    (Don’t mind me, I mostly lurk here.)

  36. Her haiku isn’t actually a haiku. A standard haiku has 3 lines with 5,7,5 syllables per line, respectively.

    Line 2 has 8 syllables!

  37. I have no recollection of the haiku I wrote for our school Arbor Day celebration about 45 years ago, but the one Norman Plankey delivered to great acclaim (from his classmates if not from the parents in attendance) has stayed with me all these years:

    The rain comes down hard,
    Splashing and splashing on me,
    Making me all wet.

  38. George:

    No, it has seven. I suspect you pronounce “everyone” with one more syllable than we do.

  39. #4 Rafe’s second piece wins for the funny. # 21 (Critter42) nailed it. Just beautiful.

    Now if I could just find the haiku I wrote when I was 15. I saw it the other day scrawled on the same piece of paper as my epic poem “Suicide Song”. (No, really.)

  40. the goths on the bus
    go mope mope mope – mope mope mope
    all through the goth town

    /ex goth (we had fun with it)

  41. Blank-eyed drool drippers
    Only I see the whole truth
    The in-crowd are dogs

    Like a cat, I prowl
    Avoiding their stupid gaze
    Do I smell bacon?

  42. Sadness, death, an end.
    Where has the best of life gone?
    Sweetness, surrender.

    This whole thread make me want to send hugs and much love to all our loved ones.

  43. Not feeling the haiku today.

    However, for your pleasure, and to the tune of “In My Own Little Corner” from “Cinderella”:

    In my own emo corner, in my own emo chair
    I can be whatever I want to be.
    I can’t look in your eyes ’cause I can’t see past my hair,
    And the world means nothing at all to me.

    I’ve got nothing I can dance to on my iPod,
    I’ve got nothing that’s not black or grey to wear;
    On my desk there is a webcam on a tripod,
    And I just sit in front of it and glare.

    I’m a world-weary cynic, it’s a game I can play
    With a whiny, petulant sort of air,
    Just as long as I stay in my own emo corner,
    All alone in my own emo chair.

  44. Dayam, that is one of the most beautiful portrait photos I have ever seen. Make certain you have that backed up somewhere permanent! That pic could win art contests! The perfect lighting… the highlights in the hair…She looks like something Vermeer would have used as a reference shot, if he’d owned a black & white camera!

  45. Vicky, that’d work better as a haiku:

    Knowing, I’m twelve
    more goth than aging fossils
    who have no idea.

    You’re welcome.

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