Another Practice
Writing haiku has long been my way of capturing fleeting moments. This concise form lets me distill complex feelings and vivid scenes into a few syllables, encouraging deep observation. While the flexibility of American haiku allows creative freedom, I often refine my poems toward the traditional seventeen syllables, reflecting nature, or a senryu focused on human nature. This balance of flexibility and tradition shapes my expression in this minimalist form.
Falling asleep requires the right routine and ideal conditions. So, when something disrupts that, like a crazy storm keeping me apart from my partner, sleep becomes elusive.
Sideways Midwestern rain,
the withholder of sleep
warm snoring husband.
Mangos have always been more than just a tasty fruit. They were a fun competition between siblings to get the biggest or best share. They also bring memories of relatives gathered around a small table, laughing together.
New Year’s offerings
are crated golden mangos
from far and close hearts.
Collages were one of my first ways to explore composition, and I keep coming back to them. When I have multiple copies of the same magazine, I can create larger, more focused works because the repeated material helps strengthen the theme.
Shapes cut from Nature
are mindful compositions
magazines revived.
The following are links to three writers of American haiku.
Read Allen Ginsberg (b. 1926 - 1997): I first read Howl in high school, and then I found his haiku.
Listen to Jack Kerouac (b. 1922 - 1969): I fell in love with On the Road, Dharma Bums, and other works by Jack Kerouac in high school. In college, a friend gave me a cassette recording of Kerouac reading his own haiku. Now, whenever I think of those lines, I hear Jack’s warm voice and the sound of horns.
Read Sonia Sanchez (b. 1936): As an adult, I discovered Sonia Sanchez’s haiku, concise yet powerful.
Then there is Basho, the original master.
Basho (b. 1644 - 1694): One of my all-time favorite poems is by this great man.
The lightning flashes
And slashing through the darkness,
A night-heron’s screech.
