On the great website: CBAontheweb.com , There was a thread on the message board about Bluegrass Haiku. They were pretty funny and Luke posted a few. He encouraged me to post some too. He told me about the 5-7-5 syllable thingy which helped a lot. After he and I posted, Ma and Pa posted too.
In order of posting: Luke, me, Pa, Ma,
—-Luke—-
Another banjo
Coming to jam. That makes four
Methinks I should leave
Come to our work shop
It’s shameless self-promotion
But you will like it
Rusty strings, can’t tune
The strings on my mandolin
Darn acid fingers
Been jamming nine hours
Aching legs, aching ankles
Where is my Rump Roost
—- Me,—-
On my back knocked out,
Why is it a crime to play
A lame one chord song?
Bought a ‘jo (banjo) for fame,
Toilet clogged, No Rump Roost, *twang*
I play flute now . . . yeah.
At a ripping jam,
I’m hot stuff! I stop, they don’t.
My amp isn’t plugged in.
Crosspicking guitar,
Ow! Thumb pick in neck with note,
Death threat from banjo player
(ain’t quite 5-7-5 but it’s good enough)
Back from jam, tent gone!
Should’ve gave banjo player
The extra break.
Listen music lots,
Have plenty songs stuck in head,
Is real jam worth it?
Me in a circle,
Where are the instruments? Oh!
It’s Banjo Anon.
Can’t look, think, smile straight,
Jamming with drunks, tuners broke.
All in a day’s work.
At my very first jam,
Feeling smart ready to whip out,
Blackberry Blossom
Back from festival,
Stinky and have pickle breath,
Banjo is my friend.
(I’m getting desprate here!)
Sitting here plugged in,
Thinking as I’m writing this
Haiku should rhyme for god sakes!
(In fact, I’ll make the last one rhyme)
Come to me at GV,
I’ll autograph your BB
Take it easy (but take it)
Big ‘K’
—-Pa—-
A summer’s dark night
Surrounded by campsite light
Ahhhh, music in flight
—-Ma—-
My seats over there
Someone big is in my chair
Care to hear my song?
Ponderosa pines
Music, friends, a jug o’ milk
The moon shines down, dang
My sons and my mate
With a workshop to relate
Are here. Play by ear.
A long time I sit
I get up stiff as a plank
My last song werent stank
Ripe, smelly, strong and stiff
His shirt after noon a wiff
He’s having a blast
This place is too big
I can’t find my normous rig
Can I sleep with you?
The festival’s here
A state of bluegrass, folks cheer
Collaboration
If you sing with me
I will sing a harmony
Nothing feels better
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