Each of these poems is within Twitter’s 280-character limit, excluding the title.
I like the challenge of a limit.
That’s why writing these short “Twitter Quips,” as I call them, is a fun exercise in crafting clear and efficient text.
I Realized Today
On Writing
Sidewalk Chewed Me Up
No Stings
Tall Man
I Brought Rhubarb Curd to In-Laws' Party
Or, browse my haiku, grouped by theme.
Nature
Family
Quirky
I Realized Today
If I'm in a fender bender it will be because of a cow rolling in dust If I veer off the road it's because a young, lanky horse stood in morning sunlight And definitely because a mule looked wise for rows and seasons yes these will be the reasons
On Writing
Writing is
endless tinkering
non-linear-thinkering
where
ideas like
line jumpers
re
arr
ange
inter
rupt
the end
is the beginning is
the middle is
not
quite
there
yet
until the poem
pulls inside out
like laundry
or chiasmus
Posted to Twitter on January 5, 2021
Sidewalk Chewed Me Up
Get home lickety-split
toting milk, in a bag, with chips
bedtime's coming quick
run swift, until
trip!
breast stroke through air
land on knees, groceries
check chafed palms
nurse bloody knees
childhood's stings
still hurt mid-thirties.
Posted to Twitter on July 22, 2020
No Stings
Ten _ucks
a _unch.
_ring home
a _ouquet,
leave _ehind
the _ees.
Tall Man
It starts as a spat:
His head
disagrees
with his height.
--What the--
--Holy--
Curses fly
arms do, too
when tall man
and ceiling fan
quarrel.
Posted to Twitter on May 6, 2020
I Brought Rhubarb Curd to In-Laws’ Party
And nobody would touch it.
"Who could eat a word like curd?"
They muttered to be sure I'd heard.
"You think this is a cooking show?"
scoffed grumpy Uncle So-and-So.
Rude, yes.
But I didn't care.
It was never my intent to share.
Posted to Twitter on February 1, 2020
Nature Haiku
Feeder sways, empty.
Was it a bluebird that came,
a thief, or the wind?
Warm wind lifts skirts, leaves
their undersides show silver
girls twirl, wait for storm
Linden sheds its skin
crisp bark like brown confetti
tossed by last night's wind
Maples stand, helpless
their duct tape belts impotent
almost a welcome
--regarding the spotted lanternfly, an invasive species in PA
Lawnmowers retreat
robins, catbirds fall silent
it's time now for rain
Ravine awakens, in bloom
springtime walk on well-worn trail
so green, and so soon
Rain, then snow at night
today closes heavy eyes
wakes white tomorrow
Mealworms in feeder
bluebirds come to eat, then leave
flash of azure joy
Family Haiku
She climbs onto me
legs smooth and cool in my lap
like two polished stones
Drinks under string lights,
circle of chairs, yet upstairs
dreams paint all the walls
Cellophane glistens,
crinkles like wrapping; open
each book like a gift
This haiku was featured on The Haiku Foundation's website
Holding your small hand,
my favorite way to go
anywhere at all
So much joy
ready to be put on
in a little girl's closet
Quirky Haiku
A piece of wisdom
(I'm lazy in the kitchen):
Bread can toast itself
Full vacuum canister
I am both repulsed
and excited
Giant grocery carts
minimalist dreams expire
on "club store" shelves
Toe dips into clawfoot
slides under silky water
small joy, big bathtub
Hood around my ears
rustles like I'm running fast
but the neighbors know
Days and days in bed
I didn't notice that I'm
wearing a necklace
Small things, like hairpins
me leaving the bedroom
needing to wear shoes
I will pray before
the Schuylkill Expressway and
its last four letters
The earth spins again
the moment I recall a
forgotten password
Author Jessica Whipple 