Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Monday, June 1, 2015

My Haiku

because you all seem to want me to write one. heartless heartless mob.

If a haiku came to me,
the safe lady wearing waves of soft sweaters
and funky book-lady glasses,

I would place it tenderly in traffic
in front of a steamroller.
My hateful heart would expand like an old furnace
and I would say, "Die, you horrid little thing.
Become one with everything, the pavement in particular."

Having murdered the haiku, I would sleep better,
though the cherry blossoms around my bed would turn brown,
then black, with bitterness.
I would dream there in the soot, beneath the stacks my own inferno.
Eat your hearts out, monks.

Here is the woman I secretly burn for, packing her things
chipper as a bluebird,
hugging me one-handed, a book of haiku in the other.
So long, she says, ticket in hand.
Minneapolis might as well be the moon; I hope it snows all summer.

moonlight on water
blackbird on cherry blossoms
soft fruit in stone bowl

If a haiku came to me,
I would tan its little hide, give its dinner to the dog,
and then later, turn the key in the lock to its solitary cell,
bringing the best of all that I have managed to save,
saying I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
I know just how you feel.
_________

  

17 comments:

  1. I started out laughing, but ended up in quite a different state. This twist on the knife-hilt of unattainable desire seems indeed to come from a place where it snows all summer. And there on the pavement, in the cell, wherever the haiku dies, I see it always remains itself, and that it has plenty of company.

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  2. you make me laugh. this one i could understand. when you go high-brow, you're way out of my realm of understanding. :)

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  3. Oh dear--agree with Hedge--a very poignant poem by the end--the haiku that you have written especially so as it sums it all up, the soft fruit in the stone bowl and the blackbird in the cherry blossoms--the underside of all that contemplation--

    one of my favorites of yours; even had I not known of your affection for those little poems. k.

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  4. Ha! I knew it! Deep down, you're a sentimentalist, just like the rest of us. Ultimately, you save this thing you purport to hate. A heart such as yours, is impossible to hide. Love this, Mosk

    ... unless, of course, I misunderstood it. Then, all bets are off.

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  5. What a lovely haiku… from someone who hates haiku.

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  6. Funny how you can hate something/someone with such intense passion, yet love it/him/her deeply, all the same.

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  7. P.S. I think haiku suits you quite well. ~Whether you like it or not.

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  8. What a marvelous treat :D I've got your back if any haiku come your way..

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  9. I thought that I would never see
    a haiku coming out of thee.

    I started off grinning, but right around the fruit in the stone bowl and the haiku on the pavement, my heart did a little twist and I thought - oh yes, there it is again, the longing that hearts like yours and mine know only too well. Beautifully done.

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  10. Pleased my sadistic side













    ( '>
    /))
    //""

    ALOHA from Honolulu,
    ComfortSpiral
    =^..^=

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  11. you're just good at everything pen related. even hai(te)ku. ~

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  12. I'll bet haikus will keep their distance!

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  13. You had me fooled with the title. You wrote much more than a haiku. This was a poignant take on love and desire, loss and anger. Beautiful, as always.

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  14. i'm not very poetic
    i tend to blather prose
    i was horrible at math
    i do not get the whole idea of haiku
    so i too would be mean to a haiku
    IF
    i ever could figure it out

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  15. This is hilarious - an anti-Haiku poem!

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  16. These are my favourite lines:
    and I would say, "Die, you horrid little thing.
    Become one with everything, the pavement in particular."

    No, actually these are my favourite lines:
    moonlight on water
    blackbird on cherry blossoms
    soft fruit in stone bowl

    Masterly, either way.

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?