I took a creative writing class my senior year in high school. Mrs. Meleski, bless her, was a great teacher! In that class, I formed a couple of friendships that endure to this day. I also developed a taste for the Japanese poetry form known as haiku. There's about a jillion variations, but the one I learned first was a triplet that had five syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and five in the third. The haiku is a perfect form for the person how has observations on things, but not a lot of time - or in my case, talent - to write a lot. Because of the discipline required, haiku can be very evocative and profound. Like a Japanese sand garden, they are austere and direct.
This morning, on the way to work, I saw a bit of nature that inspired a haiku, and got thinking that maybe I'd set myself a challenge. I'm going to try to write a haiku a day for a year. Don't know if I'll make it, but I'm going to give it a shot. I've never challenged my creativity this way.
And yes, I've watched, "Julie and Julia" twice, and enjoyed it, so that probably has a good deal to do with this impulse.
So here we go.
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Well, I almost made it. I got to the 5th of March. It was fun, and not too stressful, but in the end, the stuff that was stressful just buried this project. I'll probably still add to it occasionally. In fact, I composed a haiku this morning, while I was working outside at my property in the South Valley of Albuquerque.
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8 Feb., 2010
ReplyDeleteThis morning, on the way to work, across the valley I saw a row of brilliant, white snow clouds, hanging on the tips of some low ridges. It reminded me of something I've seen at Gettysburg, Wilderness, Wilson's Creek, and similar places.
Winter Memories
Fat, pregnant snow clouds
Perch on the skyline like smoke
over batteries.
9 Feb 10
ReplyDeleteWell, here it is the first full day, and I think I'm going to scale this back a bit. If I can do it for a month, I'll consider a year. Thinking about being creative for 2 minutes a day, every day is a bit intimidating!
ROSE
Needletoes, dig dig.
Huge eyes, fishbreath in my face.
Dumb cat, let me sleep!
10 Feb.
ReplyDeletePoor ol' mem'ry's shot.
Poor ol' mem'ry's shot. Poor ol'...
Did I just say that?
(The previous entry was written on the 10th, but I conked out before getting it in here.)
ReplyDelete11 Feb.
Cold wind slicing through
My coat, shirt, skin, guts, and soul.
Warmth abandons me.
12 Feb, 2010
ReplyDelete‘03
Pull her close to me.
Now breathe, relax, aim, slack, squeeze.
Thunder in my hands.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete13 Feb, 10
ReplyDeleteToday, my dear friends Eddie and Elaine will be sealed for time and all eternity in the Albuquerque Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day saints.
Temple covenants
Testify of The Master;
The House of the Lord.
14 Feb., 10
ReplyDeleteValentine’s Day
What a goofy day.
One more for men to forget.
Did we need more stress?
Can She Fly?
ReplyDeleteParents’ final test –
Little girl unfolds her wings;
Sword of Damocles
Final Test Failed
ReplyDeleteChildren's agency -
Things no father wants to see -
Innocence dies young.
We All Po’ Sometime
ReplyDeleteEverybody smile,
Doin’ jus fine an’ laughin;
Mus’ be payday, sho!
The day I got my learner’s permit, my dad took me to an auto wrecking yard and we walked up and down the long rows of wrecked cars. He never said a word, except for an occasional, “Bad decision, there,” or “Some bad judgment in that one.” It scared me to death, and I’ve never forgotten it. I’ve never had the chance to do something like that with my girls. Those wrecks, and all that bad judgment stand in my mind as a metaphor for what our kids often do in their lives in the broader context. How will our children survive? The same way we did, I guess: by the Grace of Him Who Made Us.
ReplyDeleteBad Judgment
Blind. No brakes. No belts.
A hundred miles an hour
Down a dead end street.
Young Lover
ReplyDeleteYears of livin’ done,
Every scar a lesson earned;
Thinks of her, and smiles.
About this time of year, on the first few warm days, the sandhill cranes begin to stretch their wings. In v-formations of 10 to 200, they wheel and circle above the valley of the Rio Grande, honking their chattering, staccato cries. It is a sight to stir the heart of an old South Valley boy.
ReplyDeleteSANDIES WARMING UP
Formations pass through
Each other, like combs, wheeling
In the blue spring sky.
Not many good times.
ReplyDeleteShe laughed some, cried a lot more –
Too late. Too bad. Done
.
ReplyDelete.
Betsy
Amaryllis blooms
Low over a little grave.
Love waits in silence.
.
ReplyDelete.
PALS
Bad breath, cold noses
Shedding, barking, and pooping.
I miss those dumb dogs.
.
ReplyDelete.
1911
This black iron shadow
Fills the hand with death and life –
Balance, sudden fire.
.
ReplyDelete.
AMBUSH
A soul-jarring drop –
Punji I’d forgot were there
In the mind’s dark trails.
65 years ago, on 24 Feb. 1945, my father went ashore on Iwo Jima with the 3rd Battalion, 9th Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division.
ReplyDelete.
.
IWO
Place of agony,
Stinking, horrid, ashen death -
Dad was so young then.
.
ReplyDelete.
Hack cough wheeze sniff gag-
This bug must be NVA -
Like to kill this boy!
.
ReplyDelete.
LATE
Just me. No one else.
Ashes of fireworks falling -
Double bed. Just me.
.
ReplyDelete.
MONDAY MORNING
Screeching dawn monster,
Blessed, warm cocoon of sleep -
Juxtaposition
.
ReplyDelete.
BROTHERS
Old trucks and old men
Rattle and creak down life's road -
Junkyard at the end
.
ReplyDeleteShoot! I missed the 2nd! Well, here's a double
on the 3rd...
.
.
JOSIE IN THE MORNING
Lavenders and pinks
Pastels all running amok
Sunrise comes calling
.
ReplyDelete.
TIME HEALS
Hope springs eternal -
Attitudes change and soften -
Lets me see your heart.
.
ReplyDelete.
VICTORIA INVINCIBLES
Starving ghosts in Gray.
We came later, in their steps -
Their road was tougher.
.
ReplyDelete.
FIRST WARM MORNING
Big black raven barks
His hoarse, gravel-throated cry.
House finch yodels back.
.
ReplyDelete.
SOUTH VALLEY LANDLORD
Working under arms –
Wound up tight, ready to go.
It’s my house, by damn.