Tag Archives: Haiku

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 10

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Ah…today’s NaPoWriMo prompt invites us to try our hand at writing a hay(na)ku, which is sort of like a haiku, except the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three. Well, let’s do this…

Hay(na)ku for Easter

Easter
No family
Going it alone

Easter
Virtual family
Zoom Video Chat

Easter
Mystical path
Meditate all day

Easter
Party time
Box of wine

Easter
Faith online
Viva la internet

Easter
Spring rebirth
Hallelujah, rising sun.
🦋🐤🐣🐰💐🌷🌸🌞



And one more bonus hay(na)ku, from the unemployed yoga teacher…

Just Do It

Respiration:
Breathe in,
Breathe out. Repeat.

Haiku Just Before Sleep

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Eyelids heavy as marble;
nighttime is seducing me.
It’s time for bed now.

 

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I am so tired from two nights of offspring induced sleep deprivation so my practices are abbreviated tonight. I had a very brief sit followed by a very brief post.  I would’ve written something longer, but my eyes were closing with my fingers poised above the keyboard.  I can take a hint.  May all beings find sweet rest and safety in this moment.

NaPoWriMo Day 23: Avoiding a Sonnet Haiku

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The cool night breeze stirs
White dogwood blooms whispering
Springtime is here now.

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Hello friends.  Today I was awakened a little before 3 am by my four year old son who trundled into our room and promptly took up most of my half of the bed. After being uncomfortably wedged between him and my husband for a time, I took the lad back to bed, then made the mistake of looking at what time it was.  The iPhone read 3:18 am. I mused at the time and attempted to fall asleep, unsuccessfully, and finally got up a little after 4. I had a productive morning starting with my regular morning meditation, then some breakfast, then some writing in my journal, then sewing a little–ALL BEFORE 6.  This early morning industriousness started to feel a little crazy to me, but by the time I needed to leave to teach two yoga classes, I was feeling fine and ready to greet the day.  I taught two classes full of earnest, hardworking people, many of whom had the courtesy to laugh at my jokes. I returned home, ate lunch, wrote a little more in my journal, and then the husband and children came home.  At this point, after we got the kids settled in their rooms for “quiet time,” I attempted to take a nap.  All that happened was a little dozing but no real sleep. Then we were all up for snacks and after a lot of dithering around, I finally got the kids out to the park so that they could ride their scooters while I’ll rollerbladed…yep…rollerbladed. Then back home, it was already past 8 and we had a lovely dinner of homemade quiche and salad. Finally got the kids in bed way past their usual bedtime, and now here I am.

The above recounting of my day was in all likelihood an unnecessarily long preamble to my confession that I’m tired and therefore won’t be laboring through the sonnet that the NaPoWriMo prompt for today encouraged us to write.  Yep, too tired to think in iambic pentameter, and too tired to worry about rhyme schemes–therefore, a haiku. When in doubt, a haiku always does just fine.  They’re short, sweet, and it feels meditative writing them, and that’s about all I have energy for tonight…so here goes…

***

The cool night breeze stirs
White dogwood blooms whispering
Springtime is here now.

NaPoWriMoers: Do Not Go Gentle!

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The last day of NaPoWriMo, and the prompt asked us to write a farewell poem. Okay then.
First, a Haiku–

NaPoWriMo ends
April gives the torch to May
So this is goodbye?

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And now, modeled after one of my most favorite farewell poems…

To My Fellow NaPoWriMoers (after Dylan Thomas):

Do not go gentle to the Month of May,
Passion should spark and flame the whole year long;
Write, write at least one poem every day.

Though all writers have moments of dismay
When blocked by fear* their zeal is not so strong
Do not go gentle into the Month of May.

Dear friends do not chance to be lead astray,
Impulses quieting your heart’s sweet song,
Write, write, at least one poem every day.

The whole world needs this most precious display
Waste not your talents, friends, this would be wrong.
Do not go gentle to the Month of May.

So that when at life’s end we might replay
Treasured memories, heart ringing like a gong
Write, write, at least one poem every day.

And so dear friends to all of you I pray
Keep eyes watching the bliss beyond the throng;
Do not go gentle to the Month of May
Write, write, at least one poem every day.

 

*or sloth, or booze, or work, or responsibilities, or life in general

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Here’s the original poem after which I modeled the above poem:

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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And now, finally, a little statement and a little question:

A Question for my Fellow Poets

You do not need to wait
one full revolution around the sun
to once more post one poem a day.
Maybe you keep posting…
Do we need NaPoWriYe?

Low Battery

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So, my husband ran the laptop’s battery all the way to zero…and now it needs recharging.  Now I’m on the iPad thinking about how much harder it is to type without the click of the keyboard keys. Now I’m thinking about the kinds of “problems” that people have in countries where there is no daily scrambling for food or shelter, no daily attempts to escape from the horrors of war.

I didn’t want to lug the dead laptop up to my meditation room.  This is where I do the bulk of my writing; it’s sparse, it’s tiny, and the lumbering power cord would just mess up the feng shui of the place. Damn the low battery.  So I grabbed the iPad and tried to  think positively about typing on a flat screen with no satisfying clicks of keyboard keys. Now I’m holding back the waves of frustration because I don’t know how to make a soft return with the iPad keyboard. I should have my own laptop. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about low batteries when it’s the end of the night and I finally have a moment to write. Yes, the types of problems people have in countries where we have running water, electricity, and the money to buy Apple Care for our multitudes of electronic toys.

Maybe in light of the painfully slow progress I’m making with the iPad, I should go for a short kind of poem….minimize the words and tinkering…be done with it. A haiku or two, then, for my poem of the day.

 

Low Battery Haiku

 

iPad frustration
Impotent fingers struggle
Head hangs in defeat

 

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Smug low battery
Taunting from my den of rest
Never satisfied