Why I haiku.

@postaday 319; #postaday2011.

I tried to fix the quirky spacing below.

Last night, just as I was falling asleep, I had a wonderful idea for today’s blog. When I woke up this morning, it was gone. It fizzled into nothingness. I’m disappointed. Everyday’s blog entry should be tasty, chewy, and a solidly good read.

What do you do when you have something you want to write, an amazing idea, an astonishing eureka moment that you know would get people charged? Should I have turned on my recorder app on my iPhone, said a few words, and tucked in? It’s dark, and there’s nothing to write with bedside. Maybe what this really means is that I should tackle the shelves around the bed and make a place for ideas to incubate while I get the sleep I need.

When I write my haiku, they are poems with which I harness an impulsive thought into a 5-7-5-syllable format. I haiku the moon, the sea, the breeze, the stars, and love. I haiku sadness, longings, wonders, daydreams. They are the mesh through which you might see what dwells in my soul.

The last haiku I wrote is a series set in one poem. It’s kinda sad, and I wonder why that might be. As though I were jilted. Then I ask myself, why would I want anyone to know I have these thoughts? I’ll tell you why: Maybe they speak to someone. Maybe they could be a song, maybe someone can hear the music that matches these words.

Five Haiku, One Poem
By Paula Bender
Clouds blow by and I

Pens, pencils, poetry. And prose. Possibilities.
Think about why you made me
Cry. You never tried.
Unlock my secrets
Learn what makes my heart go wild
Then scatter my fears.
Love is confusion.
A dance of uncertainty.
A hit or a miss.
Signals and chances
Longing looks, backward glances,
Go undetected.
Or so it would seem.
All I really want to do
Is believe the dream.
I feel so naked after I pop something out like this into the Ethernet. I feel SHY!
p.s. I’m not doing #nanowrimo. I can’t do that. I’m the kid who writes in her notebook and blocks your view with her arm. You can’t see it until I’m through.

By lavagal

Hawaii Kai wife and mom. Melanoma Stage 3a Cancer survivor. English Language Arts teacher, English Learners Coordinator, and Paraprofessional Tutor. Super sub teacher. Dormant triathlete. Road cyclist and Masters swimmer. Gardener. Mrs. Fixit. Random dancer. Music Curator. A teenager trapped in an aging body. Did you know 60 is the new 40? It is.

1 comment

  1. i can’t understand
    poetry that does not
    rhyme with nantucket

    Your pentahaiku is beautiful. But I hope your muse visits with happy thoughts, too.

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