I am still in the middle of recapping my end of Week 1 and I apologize for not having it up yet, but I'll get it up tomorrow evening. The past few days ended up being very busy and eventful, and while they contained plenty of hyperliving, there has been not much time for me to get down my experiences down.
I am also going to make this Poetry Week intro post brief due to time, but I promise to post the full extended offering tomorrow evening as well.
Week 2 Schedule of Poems (click poem type for more info on poem):
Sunday, Haiku
Monday, Blank Verse, theme: Loss
Tuesday, Theme: 1 poem written 3 times (at the age of 12, 16, and 25)
Wednesday, Sound Poem
Thursday, Ghazal
Friday, Pantoum
Saturday, Sestina
I would really love to read anything written by any of you, either playing along with the themes above or else making up your own. Post them as comments or else email to me at yearofhyperlivingATgmail.com.
Day 1, Haiku
Like I said, it's been a crazy past few days (and continuing so tomorrow), so today I'm beginning the week lightly with a little Haiku. I feel ok about this because I have never in my life written a Ghazal, Pantoum, or Sestina, and my efforts to write not completely unreadable versions may inadvertently kill me.
One thing I considered when writing this Haiku is the following passage from the link above:
"Today, many bilingual poets and translators in the mainstream North American haiku scene agree that something in the vicinity of 11 English syllables is a suitable approximation of 17 Japanese syllables, in order to convey about the same amount of information as well as the brevity and the fragmented quality found in Japanese haiku. As to the form, some American poets advocate writing in 3-5-3 syllables."
And so, without further adieu:
Internet
Brings you to me. But
I'm alone.
Stumble It!
6 comments:
Week one was impressive, and I have faith that week two will be nothing less. However, I would like to suggest editing the final line of your haiku to "I'm alone." You've got one too many syllables in there friend.
TRUE. DONE.
My mom once had to meet with my fourth grade teacher because I wrote a naughty limerick about farting. She read the poem, started laughing and told my teacher she was an idiot for making her take a day off of work for a 10 year old's fart jokes.
From my favorite Tang Dynasty poet, Li Bai, "Drinking Alone with the Moon"
From a pot of wine among the flowers
I drank alone. There was no one with me –
Till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon
To bring me my shadow and make us three.
Alas, the moon was unable to drink
And my shadow tagged me vacantly;
But still for a while I had these friends
To cheer me through the end of spring....
I sang. The moon encouraged me.
I danced. My shadow tumbled after.
As long as I knew, we were boon companions.
And then I was drunk, and we lost one another.
...Shall goodwill ever be secure?
I watch the long road of the River of Stars.
this is how to make a grown man cry at 7:45 in the morning:
Benjamin
I am your mother
I love you
From Joe AB, a 5/7/5:
root stem leaf flower
don't forget that nuts like me
will someday be trees
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