Sweet Seventeen
An E-mail discussion group at work, two of the blogs I regularly visit, a couple correspondences. They all have haikus -- a hint for me? I've never been much for writing verse. I thought I'd take a different sort of trip.
Chasm, canyon grand
eyes downcast, heavenly bound
whither do I peer?
Bearing other's pain
strength to habit draining turns
crumples soaring birds
Here I am today
yesterday is memory
make today be all
Forlorn pains of yore,
feasts of death, a phoenix birth'd
roaring life to live
Cowards, crooks, cabals
bloody lust unbuilds nations
razors, fire, are reap'd
Should I stay, or should
I go, Clash defines my clash
finance shame, or shoo
Little girls laughing
impish boys chasing, God smiles
the cycle of truth
Old men whining on
old women harping away
don't miss Charon's berth
An hundred years, canes
dancing, kids too protective;
which be old and small?
Cry, laugh, triumph, err,
ever on, by death surprised
life unending sown
Chasm, canyon grand
eyes downcast, heavenly bound
whither do I peer?
Bearing other's pain
strength to habit draining turns
crumples soaring birds
Here I am today
yesterday is memory
make today be all
Forlorn pains of yore,
feasts of death, a phoenix birth'd
roaring life to live
Cowards, crooks, cabals
bloody lust unbuilds nations
razors, fire, are reap'd
Should I stay, or should
I go, Clash defines my clash
finance shame, or shoo
Little girls laughing
impish boys chasing, God smiles
the cycle of truth
Old men whining on
old women harping away
don't miss Charon's berth
An hundred years, canes
dancing, kids too protective;
which be old and small?
Cry, laugh, triumph, err,
ever on, by death surprised
life unending sown
2 Comments:
That's wild -- this feels a little like Robert Service, done haiku-like. I especially liked the verse about Charon's berth.
It was only eight or nine years ago I developed an appreciation of poetry. The ballads of Service, Kipling, and Coleridge were accessible, evocative, and enjoyable for me. I found I liked other poetry too. So much said, so little text. Their type of ballads remain my favorite. Much like painting and sculpture, I usually prefer realism and symbolism over abstractionism. It is odd, as abstractionist works tend to provide me with more 'stop moments.'
I started writing these haikus with nothing in mind -- only random thoughts between tasks at work. I got to the last one, did a pre-edit read through before realizing I had related a story. "Never seen that with haikus," I thought, and answered "Oh, go with it."
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