jornales

for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

the sun’s footfalls (random lines not quite haiku)

…this is really me, writing, unshackled by poetic (all forms, genres) discipline. Call me untamed, even feral. I’ll agree. But this is my true spirit that I must let roam once in a while like today. 

*

burnt orange the sun’s footfalls

moon flitting
from staccato dawn
an owl hoots

a scrabbling in the pine copse raccoon eyes

is the fox a man in his dream?
snow melt

zebra
snorts
at jet stream
moonset

ivy wall
in its shadowed side
sunlit sighs

May 11, 2012 Posted by | poetry | , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

morning tide/seashore/high tide (my last post at NaHaiWriMo for now)

a.*
morning tide—
still
the heaving waves

b.
seashore–
washed off burdens
lapping at our feet

c.
billows and clouds
fading as dreams—
high tide

NaHaiWriMo prompt: seaside, seashore 07/16/2011
*the only one I posted on the site

I’m taking a breather from writing haiku on the NaHaiWriMo FB site to rethink on where I am and where I’m going with this genre. My writing a haiku has been taking me longer and longer, more tedious because the more I’m learning about what makes a good one, the more conscious I am of each word I put down. I feel that this process is taking a toll on the intuitive way I write poetry as most of the lines I write do seemingly write themselves out in one breath. Not so, with haiku that I want to work; yes, it comes easy when I’m ‘haiku-ing’ for myself or in this blog but when I begin to be conscious of ‘judging eyes’, I falter and fail and I write what for me and often I’m not wrong, a ‘lame’ or ‘yikes’ haiku.

I guess I should try to learn more, read more from Basho who lured me into the art in 2005 when I found a collection of his haiku, honestly the first I ever read having been schooled in continental literature, at the Enoch Pratt Library main library in Baltimore. Perhaps, I should reflect more on how his haiku often turn out as a meditation like in the famous ‘old pond’ where the frog’s splash fractures the silence to remind him that in the stillness of a pond, there is sound, there is life that brings him back from the ether to the frog.

But not wanting to lose my haiku-writing cells, I’m still writing with the prompts privately and continuing with my haibun memoir, some of which or excerpts of which I’ll post here once in a while.

July 21, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments