Legend of the Lost
Jan. 25th, 2010 12:18 pmI was cleaning a filing cabinet and found some wonders, but mostly non-wonders. I found a file of old, lost poetry. For the most part, it should have stayed lost. I'll make an e-file of juvenilia, but I doubt most of the stuff there will see the light of day. Some of it was okay. For instance, I found a file of old haiku, tanka, and cinquains I'd written for a writing exercise in a writing class. It was all about condensing images. Some of those weren't too bad.
Technically, haiku is seventeen syllables in three lines divided 5, 7, 5—but I didn't always adhere to that and many Western haiku writers don't follow that pattern, it seems. Tanka are 31 syllables, five lines, divided 5, 7, 5, 7, 7; cinquain are 22 syllables, five lines, divided 2, 4, 6, 8, 2.
Haiku
White branches swaying
against a stormy sky:
bones in a riverbed
A green field and far
across it a cry—is it
dog or is it bird?
Summer evening,
honeysuckle, jasmine, and
a sky vast and dark.
Rain in bougainvillea,
voices murmuring.
What is it that they say?
Idol in the garden,
your niche is sifted over
with decay of leaves.
Tanka
In a dead woman’s
room everything is still and
silent as if here
her presence is need to
keep this world of things moving.
Cinquain
The birds
in the distance
hovering quite still I
saw after all were just a flock
of kites.
Woman
walking in the
rain I thought I knew, but
it cannot be unless she was
a ghost.
Technically, haiku is seventeen syllables in three lines divided 5, 7, 5—but I didn't always adhere to that and many Western haiku writers don't follow that pattern, it seems. Tanka are 31 syllables, five lines, divided 5, 7, 5, 7, 7; cinquain are 22 syllables, five lines, divided 2, 4, 6, 8, 2.
Haiku
White branches swaying
against a stormy sky:
bones in a riverbed
across it a cry—is it
dog or is it bird?
Summer evening,
honeysuckle, jasmine, and
a sky vast and dark.
voices murmuring.
What is it that they say?
Idol in the garden,
your niche is sifted over
with decay of leaves.
In a dead woman’s
room everything is still and
silent as if here
her presence is need to
keep this world of things moving.
Cinquain
The birds
in the distance
hovering quite still I
saw after all were just a flock
of kites.
walking in the
rain I thought I knew, but
it cannot be unless she was
a ghost.
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Date: 2010-01-26 02:35 am (UTC)