.
all night long
he slips
from my mind
.
.
summer night
a gunshot
interrupts the heat
.
first star
cell phone glowing
at the end of the dock
.
Presence 47
.
I thought it was time to haul out some of the warm-weather ku that I felt dumb posting during the winter. Yeah, I know that forty-five doesn’t really count as “warmer” to most people, but welcome to Wisconsin.
.
(not a narrative)
four a.m. bitterly spitting sleep out of my mouth
the speeds of light and sound meet in the storm
dying wind
where they were left
the dolls sleep
at the end of the storm the birds begin again
the newspaper brought
by the car in the night
the crane cries
light reorganizes itself around the edges of the leaves
dawn
the cat crows
in my ear
morning juice
a green bug climbs up
the broom handle
*
You’re not going crazy. I’ve revised a bunch of these since the last time you read them.
I’m still feeling under the weather from semi-collapsing at the end of a half-marathon I ran on Sunday in 88-degree weather (it’s Wisconsin, and it’s been a cold spring, so no snickering from you Southwesterners). Pretty much confined to the couch, since standing up for more than a few minutes makes me dizzy. There are worse things, I guess. I’m surrounded by all the books and magazines I put off reading all semester, not to mention the omnipresent, time-sucking Interweb.
I’m having a hard time following a train of thought even long enough to write a sub-seventeen-syllable poem, though. So at the moment I’m taking it easy on my fried brain by resorting to found haiku, mostly from prose by Gerard Manley Hopkins, better known as a poet — one of my all-time favorites. The first couple haiku are from poems. The rest are from his journals, which every aspiring poet should read. The man minutely observed and described everything he saw; whole paragraphs read like poems. I can’t help thinking that if he had known about haiku, he would have tried his hand at it.
I may repeat this experiment at intervals, mining the works of other poets and prose writers for haiku-like material (full credit to the original authors, of course). I agonized briefly over whether this exercise was a) cheating, or b) meaningful, but then decided I didn’t care. I enjoy it and it’s my blog. And I do think I’m learning something from this about what writing is haiku-like and what isn’t.
I’ve taken the liberty of haiku-izing Hopkins’s words by arranging them in three lines and removing some punctuation, but otherwise these are direct quotations, with no words removed or added.
So…here’s Gerard:
the moon, dwindled and thinned
to the fringe of a fingernail
held to the candle
*
this air I gather
and I release
he lived on
*
mealy clouds
with a not
brilliant moon
*
blunt buds
of the ash, pencil buds
of the beech
*
almost think you can hear
the lisp
of the swallows’ wings
*
over the green water
of the river passing
the slums of the town
*
oaks
the organization
of this tree is difficult
*
putting my hand up
against the sky
whilst we lay on the grass
*
silver mottled clouding
and clearer;
else like yesterday
*
Basel at night!
with a full moon
waking the river
*
the river runs so strong
that it keeps the bridge
shaking
*
some great star
whether Capella or not
I am not sure
*
two boys came down
the mountain yodelling
we saw the snow
*
the mountain summits
are not the place
for mountain views
*
the winter was called severe
there were three spells
of frost with skating
*
the next morning
a heavy fall
of snow
*
at the beginning of March
they were felling
some of the ashes in our grove
*
ground sheeted
with taut tattered streaks
of crisp gritty snow
*
thunderstorm in the evening
first booming in gong-sounds
as at Aosta
*
I noticed the smell
of the big cedar
not just in passing
*
the comet —
I have seen it at bedtime
in the west
*
as we came home
the stars came out thick
I leaned back to look at them
*
— Gerard Manley Hopkins, from Poems and Prose of Gerard Manley Hopkins, edited by W.H. Gardner
another rainy night
silent
conversation
full moon
the clock that ticks
so loudly
full moon
the dream I can’t
remember
full moon
listening to you
breathe
full moon
tapping your shoulder
to wake you
full moon
unsure whose legs
are whose
full moon
asleep
at last
rain all night
dreams full of
punctuation
I wrote ten haiku this morning that all started with the line “rain all night.” (It rained all night.) I didn’t like most of them very much. The one above was the one I liked the most. Here are a few of the others — if you like one of them better (or at all), feel free to let me know. And why.
rain all night
sun in the morning —
disappointment
rain all night
muffles early birdsong
silence in my dreams
rain all night
dreams fill up
with oceans
rain all night
is this what
drowning feels like
rain all night
throat so dry
I can’t swallow