6-2: A Poetic Retrospective Part Dos

Since part one of Haikuamania 2011 seemed to be a resounding success (And by “resounding success” I mean nobody laughed scornfully or told me to knock it off. I have such high standards.) I figured I’d continue with this delightful array of Haikus about the Lions defensive starters and key contributors. (And yes, again, “key contributors” is basically just an excuse to do Willie Young Haikus. Then again, there is about a 96% chance that this is also how my twilight years will be spent – in some crooked nursing home being abused by junky orderlies, dribbling applesauce on my twin, my brain turned to mush, while I obsessively create new Willie Young Haikus every day until a news crew finally shows up to document the weird old man who never speaks and doesn’t respond to any external stimuli but spends his days and nights crafting exquisite Willie Young Haikus. This is how I will eventually break through because that is just how the universe works. Oh God, I have just seen the future . . .)

Anyway . . . yeah. Let’s just do this thing. And, as before, feel free to leave your own Haikus in the comments, and, again, if you feel the need to count syllables, have a blast, but keep your fascist rules to yourself, because we are spirit warriors and sometimes spirit warriors need to cheat the ancient Japanese Haiku overlords a bit in order to make a salient point. Oh, and if these are shitty, you have only yourself to blame. Why? Must I always provide you with the answers? Now let this class project on acid commence!

Ndamukong Suh

Thunder warrior

Dread Lord of the House of Spears

The scourge of Goodell

OR . . .

Massive man mountain

The earth trembles in your wake

And so does Cutler

OR . . . (You had to know I’d get carried away with this thing sooner or later.)

The sun, moon and stars

Watch wide eyed and terrified

And bow at your feet

OR . . . (in orderly to properly reflect what’s gone on this season)

Rise, nature’s fury

The fell hand of death’s judgment

But don’t overrun

Corey Williams

Untameable beast

The heart of a savage tide

You jumped too early

Cliff Avril

Flies like a missile

Launched into the heart of hell

The spirit of pain

Kyle VandenBosch

Red eye, blood red heart

Frothing pit-bull from hell’s mouth

Leads with eyes of fire

Sammie Hill

Country strong beast heart

Takes a back seat to no man

You’re not forgotten

Lawrence Jackson

Lo-Jack folk hero

Your fans have become legion

And you have found home

Willie Young

The Great Willie Young

Warrior of my own heart

What more can I say?

OR . . .

Child of my visions

I feel like a proud father

Every time you roar

OR . . .

You rose from our need

For a hero in these times

Strange yet terrible

OR . . .

Fisherman of souls

Sailing the oceans of time

You have hooked the world

OR . . .

Blood soaked avatar

Of all that is good and pure

The whole world owes you

OR . . .

Blowing through the line

A jungle cat in its prime

You hunt the Cutler

OR . . .

The bear trembles

The jaguar bows its noble head

For you are a Lion

OR . . .

The Lion king who rules

Rodgers, Cutler and Ponder

You own their spirits

OR . . .

The Great Willie Young

Mere words are too meaningless

To explain my joy

Stephen Tulloch

Kill and mock Tebow

The whole world watched it happen

Call it Tulloching

Justin Durant

Gun really likes you

We missed you while you were gone

Never leave again

DeAndre Levy

Levy that won’t break

Answer to the heart’s sad cries

The future is now

Bobby Carpenter

Looks like a Viking

The good kind not the purple

Steal the fucking ball

Eric Wright

Much maligned by Browns

Their dumb mistake is our gift

Lock that fucker down

Chris Houston

Pick six magician

They said you had no ball skills

I guess they were wrong

Louis Delmas

Call you the missile

You fly with reckless fury

Please wrap up your kills

Amari Spievey

Cornerback convert

Prove that you’re not the weak link

And savage the world

Ryan Donahue

Better than Harris?

The jury has yet to say

Show me what you’ve got

Stefan Logan

Shake, rattle and roll

Shit, there goes another one

Fuck these dumb new rules

Gunther Cunningham

Old man watches as

His heart opens on the world

And proves him worthy

Scott Linehan

Throw more on first down

Last year I called you Wizard

Don’t make me look dumb

Jim Schwartz

Man of fire and ice

Passion and brilliance in one

A man after my own heart

OR . . .

Shake hands like a man

Or risk the wrath of the Schwartz

Leader of my dreams

OR . . .

At last a real coach

A leader sent from heaven

To slay the demons

And there you have it, dudes and lady dudes. There is a part of me that just wants to do Haikus for a while, like some fucked up version of Rainman that counts syllables instead of matchsticks, but I know that I would just end up descending into indecipherable madness (too late?) and so I’ll stop now. I hope these weren’t too assy, but if they were, hey, what the hell, you know? Sometimes the world loves you and sometimes you do weird Haikus that amuse only yourself and then you end up in a padded room laughing to yourself while a team of doctors stands around shaking their heads and your loved ones cry and wonder where everything went wrong. But that’s life, you know? That’s life.

6-2: A Poetic Retrospective

The Lions didn’t play on Sunday, which means that if I want to write about something Lions related, I’d have to talk about the team cutting fourth string running backs and resurrecting the corpse of Kevin Smith or about Matthew Stafford’s belly-button lint or openly speculating about the various dick sizes of the offensive linemen, and frankly, I just don’t want to do that to myself. Or to you. It’s also the midway point in the season, which means that everyone is handing out made up grades and wistfully looking back at the time that The Great Willie Young murdered Jay Cutler or the time that Tim Tebow turned the other cheek after Stephen Tulloch got done bitch slapping the other one.

So, rather than write about the various intrigues and hijinks taking place at Ford Field (although I will admit, I did consider writing a love story involving Leonard Davis and a ham sandwich) I thought I’d also take a look back at the first half of this beautiful season. But rather than handing out grades like some psychotic 9^th grade shop teacher with a drug habit (Some would call it a problem, but I am an optimist and therefore like to think of them as “drug habits”) I thought I’d instead do the right thing and rip off Brian Cook of mgoblog, the venerable and beyond excellent Michigan sports blog. Every year, Brian writes haikus to commemorate the Michigan careers of each graduating senior on the football team. I thought I’d do the same for our boys.

Now, I’ll admit that it’s unseemly for me to jack Brian’s swagger like this, but I invented the Haiku in a previous life so, really, what you’ve got to ask yourself here is who is swagger jacking who? Think about it.

Anyway, let’s just get on with it before I end up accidentally writing a whole post devoted to utter nonsense. (Then again, why should this one be any different than any of the others?) Today, I figured I’d just do the offensive starters and maybe some key contributors and then in a couple of days I’ll do the defensive starters and key contributors (And yes, the “key contributors” addendum was created solely as an excuse to do Willie Young Haikus. Thank you for asking.) Oh, one thing you should probably know: I am just making these up off of the top of my head so if they are shitty, don’t blame me, blame my refusal to put any more thought into this beyond a shrug and thinking “Well, shit, let’s just start this fucking thing and see what happens.” Preparation is the tool of the devil after all. I mean, you know who really prepared? That’s right, Hitler. I rest my case. Also, if you are one of those Aspergery types who feels the need to count syllables like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man or some shit, hey, have a blast. Just don’t get all weird and throw a fit if there is an extra syllable tossed in here or there. We are better than that.

Okay, fine, I’ll stop gibbering and start, well . . . gibbering. But it will be meaningful gibberish. You understand the difference, right? RIGHT??? Anyway, here they are – the official Armchair Linebacker Midway Point in the Season Celebratory Haikus, or the ALMPITSCH, which I’ll admit sounds like the name of a German whore house catering to degenerate Nazi politicians or something, but . . . okay fine, I’m going to start now, I promise.

Matthew Stafford

Rocket-arm savior

So many questions remain

We all hold our breath

Jahvid Best

Tender egg-shell head

The ghost of Barry whispers

Such a tragedy

Calvin Johnson

Gift from the heavens

The soaring heart of my dreams

Fuck you Pereira

Nate Burleson

Promise unfulfilled

Where did you disappear to?

Come back to me now

Titus Young

The hubris of youth

A thunderstorm of promise

Yet unrealized

Brandon Pettigrew

Giant buffalo

Schwartz says he’s the running game

Six yards at a time

OR . . .

Giant steel traps for hands

Yet slick with oiled malice

Please don’t drop that pass

Tony Scheffler

White trash thunder-heart

Soul of a drunken dragon

Dance my sweet prince dance

Dominic Raiola

Too small and too weak

Can’t run block to save his life

But there’s no one else

Stephen Peterman

Big, fat, dumb, but tough

Blue collar nameless shadow

Please stop fucking up

Rob Sims

Not flashy, not good

Mere competence is enough

Depressing yet true

Gosder Cherilus

Gosder the man-child

The stench of Millen remains

Clinging to your soul

Jeff Backus

Wounded warrior

A mirror to our dark hearts

Human punching bag

Mikael LeShoure

Dead before you lived

Curse your goddamn Achilles

Why me, Lord? Why me?

Jason Hanson

Old Methusela

The beating heart of our pride

Please, never leave us

Okay, so that’s that. A failed experiment? Probably, but fuck it, cowardice is the way to the death of the soul and sometimes we need to reach into weird places in order to jump-start the stupid electric energies of our hearts. I have no regrets. Feel free to add your own Lions Haikus in the comments. Come on, it will be fun, like a class project on acid.