For a third year (third, right? Not fourth?) I’m tweeting haiku thrice daily on Twitter. There appears to be less twitter poetry this year, perhaps the idea of 140 character poetry and stories has played itself out. But as much as I do it in celebration of National Poetry Month I find that taking a few moments during the day to think in such a highly structured format sharpens me up. When I need to take a break, sure, I could go snack, or take a nap, or read some blogs… or I could set the metronome to five-seven-five and see what sort of tunes develop.
I’m free-form this year, no grand theme or design to guide me. The results have been pretty funky.
Sunday, 1 April
despite my claims of not having a theme, food was clearly on my mind
like rolling thunder / my stomach calls for waffles / but they don’t answer
oh, frickadellen! / savory love child of / burger and hot dog!
double leftovers / when laziness trumps hunger / leftovers again
Monday, 2 April
okay, now we’re getting somewhere! nature triumphant!
burning, stinging eyes / itchy, inflamed sinuses / many joys of spring
the umbrella dies / a gust of wind, worn out seams / instant skeleton
tendrils of sunlight / gently caressing eyelids / late afternoon nap
Tuesday, 3 April
eh, not so focused today, with an ominous foreshadowing of a dental appointment later in the week
bear in a campground / scavenges through garbage cans / a potluck gourmand
in the roots of leeks / smell the damp, sandy soil / smell the birth of spring
like a sword in stone / hard kernels of popped corn trapped / between my molars
Wednesday, 4 April
garbage day, joggers, and the lottery. timeless themes of poetry
the sentries lined up / to be relieved of duty / curbside on trash day
laugh, but you don’t see / animals in mylar suits / trying to lose weight
to number the stars / is like counting grains of sand / or lottery odds
Thursday, 5 April
and now we get to it, the mundane couching the horror of the week
though called “rush hour” / a dog chasing his tail / would get to work first
eyes shut, aching jaw / hands and arms uselessly clenched / endless root canal
a biting rip saw? / a tiger’s labored chuffing? / no, a snoring spouse
over at Laura Purdie Salas’s place, for this week’s 15 words or less poem (based on a photo of a horse in a landscape) I contributed the following:
in your haunting eyes / do we look as majestic / as you do in ours?
maybe it doesn’t work without the picture, but then again, maybe it’s a haiku of awe told by a child to an alien.
There are a couple in there I don’t mind. I have some favorites. Early in the week someone on twitter retweeted one of my twitku with a qualified “um…” suggesting that perhaps it wasn’t legitimate haiku because, I don’t know, it didn’t reveal some great truth of nature? Hey, this is the Modern World, people, and garbage cans deserve poetry as much as dead umbrellas and the lottery. Does a root canal deserve to be a haiku? That’s a tough call, but sometimes you don’t know what works until you do it.
So there it is, this week’s contribution to Poetry Friday. There’s probably tons of stuff happening this month, and a decent chunk of it is being rounded up by Robyn at Read, Write, Howl this week. Go on, take a peek. The poetry won’t bite. I can’t speak for the poets…