By way of introduction: I like poetry. Not in a fanatical way, and not (by any means) every poem ever written, nor am I an expert on the many poets who have gone before.
I think there’s a poet of sorts in everyone, so being a “poet” is not necessarily any great thing in and of itself.
When I was young I began writing as a way to sort out my feelings, to organize my thoughts, and to express things I couldn’t really say outloud. In terms of poetic expression I was able to use representative imagery and language that acted as a sort of encryption… a way to say what I wanted while maintaining the privacy of my own thoughts.
Haiku is an interesting form that is difficult to truly accomplish in English unless one does not know about “on”, in which case one does not know one’s Haiku is coarse. I have an inkling about “on”, so I know my Haiky is coarse, but I write it anyway because it’s fun.
For the sake of honesty and levity I will inform you right up front that I am under no delusions, and do not think myself to be some sort of “Haiku master”. Uh uh. My poetry can be as stinkingly odiferous as the next poet’s. But hopefully on occasion you’ll get a whiff of hyacinth or lilac or at least sunflower, should you subject yourself to reading them.