NOTE: Hey, did you know I’m giving away Amazon gift cards??? See my previous post and be sure to leave your comment on THAT post in order to be in the drawing. Only commenters on the giveaway post will be included in the drawing. You can enter until noon Eastern time on Friday!
For the second post in a row I’m going to link to The Bloggess, which is so very kiss-assy it makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit. But it’s not as kiss-assy as this:
Oh Jenny Lawson, I have completely platonic and not at all stalkery love of you that is so much of the wowza with the words and the laughing and PLEASE BE MY BESTIE 4EVA AND EVA JENNY LAWSON and we will hang out and go to movies and I know you don’t like coffee but you can have hot chocolate while I have coffee because if you try to make me give up my coffee I will cut you.
Which I guess is actually not as much kiss-assy as it is kind of frightening. Oh well. Restraining orders are the most exhilarating expression of friendship, right?
In any case, the linky here actually does serve a purpose, as I need it to set context.
See, yesterday Jenny put up a post with some haiku that she wrote about her maliciously levitating cat with a taste for magpies. In the comments, I did two things:
- Made predictions that included an explosion in haiku popularity in the blog set (and I really didn’t have a haiku post planned when I wrote that, so I’m just as surprised as anyone that I made my prediction come true)
- Shared my love of haiku in unexpected places.
I really do love me some stealth haiku. It’s a literary Tootsie Pop… Something may look like a run of the mill letter or email or street graffiti, until something in the rhythm or format pings your radar as unusual, and BAM! Haiku bomb. It’s a delicious, chewy, 5-7-5 center of awesome.
Because I try to balance my taking with giving, my life comes with a minor in Ninja Haiku. I drop it behind me like a bread crumb trail, then mentally crouch behind bushes and wait to enjoy the moment that someone finds it.
Unfortunately for me, more often than not it’s not found. This is quite possibly because I am a downright shitty writer of haiku. But I can’t deny that it’s always a little disappointing when people pick up my haiku crumb, look at it, and then put it on their salad like it’s just a regular old crouton. For example, I’ve been waiting months for a co-worker find the stealth haiku in a template I created that is used to explain new programs to a sales team:
Section 1: Background
- Explanation of
- What brought us to these changes
- Bullets, short and sweet
Section 2: What’s happening now
- The meat of what’s new
- Explain program or offer
- And sales team impact
Section 3: Additional information
- Fill in all the blanks
- Provide links and resources
- Other as needed
Every time I send this out, I giggle in anticipation. I maybe even do that hand-rubbing-together thing. Nothing so far, but when someone does pick up on it, it will have been worth the wait. Because I am firmly convinced that haiku bombs make the world a better place.
So here’s what I want us all to do. Drop your haiku bombs onto the world. Put them in Facebook and Twitter updates, emails and cards, on those papers that office supply and art stores leave out for testing pens. Then come back and tell about your haiku bomb, so that we can all enjoy. 17 syllables to make people smile – that’s a pretty darned good deal!