Blizzards, redux

Huge winter storms have already blasted Alaska, Colorado and big swaths of the Northeast. (Ever notice that if you’re in a “swath” nothing good is going to happen around you?) I just hope we aren’t in for a repeat of last winter — though the big storms and deep freezes were easy subjects, right when I was starting to write regularly. Here are the past winter’s weather verses, with dates.

Jan. 21

Don’t drink much these days
But I’m afraid I’ll get plowed
Before my street does

Big storm was too much
For Kansas City road crews
If you get my drift

Feb. 2

The snow crews were ready for our second big blast. But man, was it cold.

My God they’re heroes
The folks behind the big plows
Beat the blizzard back

Buddha made me do these:

We truly aspire
To eliminate desire
But I need some heat!

We say namaste
On this frigid, frozen day
To warm our true hearts

We say namaste
To recognize the divine:
A breve latte

Feb. 3

Bitter cold made a few things unthinkable.

Calendar says it’s
Lunar New Year; guess I’ll
Moon someone today

Think it’s a dog’s life?
Obviously you haven’t
Peed outside lately

Would a nice muffler
Get these weather guys to just
Shut up already!?

Wife threw me over
For new-fangled snowblower
Can’t say I blame her

Please, my old shovel
Dig me out of my hovel
I lamely grovel

Feb. 4, Zero-tolerance haiku

You know it’s cold when
You curl up in your icebox
And you feel warmer

You know it’s cold when
Wild-eyed weatherman just laughs
Uncontrollably

You know it’s cold when
Birds skate across your birdbath
And they’re wearing skarves

You know it’s cold when
Waitress spills coffee on you
And you raise her tip

These ran on The Kansas City Star business page, for the area’s big corporate names.

H&R Block
You know it’s cold when
Tax man can’t stand the zeroes
On Form 1040

Hallmark
You know it’s cold when
Even greeting card writers
Can’t find a good word

Sprint
You know it’s cold when
You can hear a pin drop then
Hear the pin shatter

Garmin
You know it’s cold when
Even your GPS thinks
You’re at the North Pole

YRC Worldwide
You know it’s cold when
Every big rig’s cargo is
Refrigerated

Cerner
You know it’s cold when
Your medical software reads
Zeros but no 1’s

American Century
You know it’s cold when
Your clients’ liquid assets
Are frozen solid

And for our friends in broadcast media:
You know it’s cold when
Fox, NPR snuggle up
To try to get warm

Feb. 10

Forecast: High 40
Whoever thought that would be
Music to our ears?

Feb. 25

Buryin’ my car
Deep-six(inch)in’ my driveway
Winter, it’s baa-aack

Shovel that driveway
So I can get downtown and
Shovel my workload

Damn that traffic jam
You’d think these yahoos never
Saw snow in their lives

Bald guy with bald tires
Slides clean off the highway — ditched
Like a bad toupee

Beautiful snow, that’s
BS for short — and for long
Way too long, I say

Snowblower weather
This meets the definition
Yeah, it blows all right

Perfect second car?
A tow truck! Perfect third car?
A big old snowplow

March 14

Fat, wet, white, flaky
— The snow, not me, smart aleck —
A mid-March flurry

Hip old shoveler
Clears drive gingerly, knows he
Must avoid spring break

Haiku enough for you? Redux

We’ve had a glorious fall in and around Kansas City, and I think we deserved it after blizzards and a long heat wave. Here are some verses from summer, concluding with some celebrating a couple of breaks in the heat.

July 14

Haiku enough for you?

It’s so hot out there
Lady Gaga is wearing
Just one big ice cube

It’s so bad, servers
At Cold Stone Creamery say,
“Careful, this plate’s hot”

(And don’t sweat this one if you aren’t a Harry Potter fan)

It’s so hot I can
Disapparate and I’m not
Even a wizard

Wilson Pickett sings
The weather: “99 and
“A Half (Just Won’t Do)”

The Stones try to sing
“She’s So Cold” but it comes out
As “Gimme Swelter”

Tried to say “No sweat”
But a hot wind snatched the words,
Suffocated them

Expiration date
On everything (but this heat)
Just moved up a month

Perspiration date
On everything alive has
Been set to “right now”

It’s even torrid
On the Web; better send this
Before Hotmail melts

July 21

98°
With shade, breeze, feels like only
96°

It’s so bad outside
You keep having hot flashes
And you’re a young guy

It’s so hot outside
I’m taking panting lessons
From my neighbor’s dog

July 22

Hot off the haiku press

On baked paths, paths shift
Joggers, walkers no longer
Avoid the sprinklers

Tree, grass, bush, flower
Nature turns alcoholic
Dying for a drink

Trimmed terrier trots
Paucity of paws’ pauses
Happy haircut hound

Radiant runner
Not breathless but breathtaking
Skin shines, sweat glistens

July 28

“Heat’s getting to him” haiku

It’s so hot outside
We’re grilling all of our meals
And don’t need charcoal

It’s so hot outside
All our tomatoes have been
Classified “sun dried”

It’s so hot outside
Even all the dry ice is
Sweating profusely

Baked-brain guy wagging
Middle finger at the sun
Shouts, “Here’s my heat wave”

Done-in centipede,
On back, its final salute:
100 digits

100°
X most of July =
One well-baked product

So hot I wonder:
My lawn or the power grid,
Which browns out first?

Aug. 2
Afternoon drive haiku. High temp, 107:

Good God these numbers
Should be for FM stations
Not temperatures

So hot I should be
Hallucinating, but dang
The bank temp sign’s real

Seasonal menu
It’s not just the potatoes
Everything’s twice baked

Seasonal menu
Pat’s Burger Bar now serving
Only Patty Melts

Seasonal menu
Every kind of candy’s been
Replaced by Red Hots

Seasonal menu
Sizzling fajitas prepared
For sizzling eaters

Aug. 5

“Big drip, little verses” haiku

Grey slab speeds across
The morning sky, makes the sun
Take a too-rare break

Who ordered the rain
For this august occasion?
Must send a thank you

Oh, I’ve lost the sense
To come in out of the rain
H2(Greg)O-O!

No one else is out
Except in their cars. What’s wrong
With all these people?

Despite umbrella
My back is soaked and I know
Rest of me can’t wait

Ditch the umbrella
Mother Nature give me all
Your liquid assets

Gloriously soaked
Even shoes and socks feel good
Grant my wish to squish

Late bloomers, awake
It’s our season to become
Wildflowers in May

Stop under a tree
To scribble notes; can’t let these
Impressions wash out

Near home, the lightning
Finally shows, splits the sky
Time to bolt inside

Aug. 11

“Made to order” haiku:

August, feels like spring
This morning of all mornings
Day made to order

A shady sidewalk
Stretched out for a mile, waiting
For walkers to come

Fresh air, a clean slate
Something makes it all feel new
No expectations

Delicious menu
Ripe with possibilities
What sounds good to you?