The Bad Goth Haiku of Polarbeast
Welcome to Polarbeast's sorrowful collection
of poorly composed minimalist goth poetry,
created during times of gloom and misery.
Enjoy the following self-flagellating
morsels of wisdom and inspiration,
each haiku commented upon by the
Darkly Gothic Poetry-Mastah
Gothhei SmithCure, who
is ancient and is in
no way perky! 		Gothhei Fat Choy! 

             My thrall forgot to
             lightproof my room before day.
                Now I am ash. Damn.
Hard it is to find good ghoulish help nowadays. 


                                                                     This cemetery
                                                              is old and sparse of bodies.
                                                                           I need another.
Devilish experiments and fiendish appetites
require constant supply. 


                                   Three bootsteps forward,
                                     shuffling across the floor,
                                       hands clasped to my breast.
Clearly he knows the dark dance. Perhaps soon
we may see him do the "washing the mirror." 


                                                                     How could that DJ
                                                                  follow Sisters of Mercy
                                                                     with that Manson song?
The foolish one behind the turntables would be wise
to replace it quickly with some Alien Sex Fiend. 


                                                   No, just because you
                                                  are wearing black does not mean
                                                       you can hang with us.
Go forth and put some eyeliner on. Hope of salvation
and hopeless eternal love must fill your thoughts. 


                 I have run out of
                 clove cigarettes and snakebite.
                        I think I must swoon.
One must not let one's head smack the table on the way down. 


                                     Be not a poseur,
                                     else you may find a pointy
                                       boot up in your arse.
My son, being a spookykid does not a gothic make.
Study the sea of crushed velvet and latex about you. 


                                                             What? No Absinthe here?
                                                                Guess I'll have a vodka and
                                                                cranberry juice, then.
One must welcome any rationalization
to be depressed and worrisome. 


                        I was doing fine
                        with my cans of Aquanet
                        'til you struck that match.
Though we burn in the hell of our existence
we do not need to add to the flames. 


                                                   We will kick your ass
                                                      and not even smear
                                                      our eyeliner.
Said so boldly, yet we suspect we will actually
be over in the corner bitching and moping.


Have a haiku which burns your soul, whether its theme
be lounge, goth or sci-fi? By all means your tired,
your poor, your huddled 5-7-5 syllabic rhythms yearning
to be displayed.

Return to the Haiku / Sci Faiku Index
The Bad Lounge Haiku of Polarbeast
The Bad Sci Faiku of Polarbeast
The Bad Haiku of Our Visitors