Although the form constraints of haikus are specific and seemingly limiting, I find that haikus are often the most comforting type of poetry to write, especially when I don’t know what else to write. There are only 5-7-5 syllables per line, which challenges me to spend more time contemplating a concise and effective use of words, whereas often without such guidelines, writing poetry can feel like wandering through a forest without a map–not necessarily an unpleasant experience by any means, but the haiku’s structure acts like a compass; it points the direction, and I am free to be as creative as I’d like within those constraints.
In today’s post, I share with you a series of haikus which illustrate moments of everyday life–the lovely, the gross, and the honest; from the dilemma of figuring out what to wear to the telltale sound of a cat vomiting. I invite you to read these aloud, as they have been carefully contemplated based on sound, rhyme, flow, and meaning. Each haiku is intended to stand on its own. Enjoy!
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what to wear today?
too wide! too white! too dated!
what to wear indeed?
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twenty-two to-do’s:
tasks to tackle, time to start!
i tap on twitter.
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milky bath water
curly hairs and congealed soap
drain is clogged again
~
my legs, coiled tight
folded, bent, tucked, stagnant, still,
tensing towards a spring
~
a retching beckons–
i reckon a belly’s mess
left for me to fetch
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silver clippers snip
crescent claws cast and curtail.
nails are quickly cut
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hunger creeps at five
food won’t make itself–unless…
want to order out?
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the train’s fog horn is
louder when the trees are bare
shrieking through cold nights
~
by nine:ten p.m.
my red eyes hem at their lids
bed time must be met
~
For more poetry from Slanted Spines, check out this page.