So I was looking through the moleskin journal Debbie gave me last year and rediscovered a few haikus I jotted down one day. It was kind of fun to re-read them, and I thought I'd share a few favorites:
WSRB
tick tock clackity
I keep time with the keyboard;
mind numbing routine.
Confused
"words are a talent"
nameless voices preach to me.
they are mistaken.
Foreign Policy
Invisible man
pleading for something to eat.
Keep walking. Don't stare.
5 comments:
Ah, but what are they mistaken about? That's what I want to know.
Here is a haiku about you:
Lisa kind of stinks
Of decomposing fishes.
Ew! What is that smell?
Those are awesome! Given a month and a half in our poetry class this is what I've learned:
Rule 1: If you are unique, everyone will think that you have no talent.
Rule 2: You should keep all "poetry rules" unless they render you completely indistinguishable from the rest of the poem-scribbling masses. In which case, disregard all rules and make up your own. You will have no friends, but you will achieve true literature.
Ergo Haiku = A. True.
*Haiku 2, that is.
Quite true, which is why I am far too self concious to include any of the other doggrel I found in my writing log. I think it is much too outlandish to expose it to the world as poetry. Haikus are nice and safe. :)
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