haiku

Stuccoed sky

One of my favorite things today, a haiku I wrote while looking up at the ceiling.

I was lying on the floor, listening to music, feeling stuck. I looked up and began seeing images in the midst of the textured ceiling. I spotted what looked like an older man and another that looked like the skeleton of a dog’s head.

I saw the resemblance of this evening with that of a summer’s day. Yet these clouds did not move. I counted syllables and wrote a haiku.

like the clouds above
the ceiling holds figures too
while I lie here

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haiku

Haiku queue

It wasn’t cabin fever that pushed me to go outside today, but rather my frustration with a work assignment that did. I needed to get out and walk.

As I made my way back home, I came up with the following description: Went on a much needed walk and came across spring. It turns out the description can be split into two stanzas, seven syllables and five syllables, respectively. I was onto a haiku without knowing it.

It’s interesting how I always seem to come up with the last two stanzas of a haiku and always have trouble with the first. It happens to me often. I know I have a list of unfinished haiku somewhere.

despite all of this
went on a much needed walk
and came across spring

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haiku, Travels

Midnight muse

I was awakened in the middle of the night by an unfamiliar sound, one that grew as the wind picked up outside. Not making much of it, I shifted in bed and closed my eyes.

Again, I was awakened. This time not by sound but by words. I reached out for my notebook that was lying on the floor and began writing.

tend to your garden
all those things you said you would
even now they call

I settled back into bed. The sound outside persisted, but I turned away my ear. The words inside insisted, yet I listened.

go outside and see
hoping that the wind go down
will not make it stop

I got up and stumbled through the hall. The sound was coming from some metal decor my mom had put up. I took both down and made my way back to bed.

ahora si ya
puedo irme a dormir
bueno, lo dudo

What my writing looks like in the middle of the night and inscribed in the dark.
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haiku

Street poetry

I was about to cross the street when I noticed a pattern all too familiar — 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables. A haiku.

I was taken aback and, out of excitement, pulled my friend out of traffic for her to see it. I was ecstatic.

You see, haiku have been a thing. I wrote three of them the day before and was already in the practice of counting my thoughts’ syllables. Now, the syllables were in front of me.

This haiku is by John Morse and is part of the NYC Department of Transportation’s Curbside Haiku, a safety education program and public art campaign that’s dispersed throughout the city.

It was a weekend of poetry, and I could not have been happier.

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haiku

Counting syllables

I wrote three haiku this morning, the most I’ve ever written in a day (I’m still surprised myself). They all came out of my journey to NYC today.

I was hesitant to leave the house without my camera out of fear that I’d be missing out on the opportunity to take some cool pics, but something inside me didn’t want to.

my inner writer
doesn’t want to take pictures
she just wants to write

Because I was running late, I was half-expecting (or more so convinced) that I wouldn’t make it to the bus terminal in time. I thought I had two more stops to go.

it’s one stop away
that alone gave me some hope
as long as I ran

I made it (with literally a minute to spare, no lie) and settled in. An hour into the trip, I began writing and came across a blog post that got me thinking.

I tend to latch on
to things I do not want
out of fear of loss

Interestingly enough, I came across this and the morning went full circle.

@davidshrigley
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