I am loving the hay(na)ku style! It seems to work for me and with my style of thinking. (Quick, fleeting, if-I-don’t-write-it-down-now-I’ll-never-remember thoughts.)
Day/Prompt 5: Write a “Make Sense” and/or a “Don’t Make Sense” Poem
If you know me IRL, you know I’d take the challenge of writing both. Hay(na)ku comes naturally to me and is quite fun to compose. This set of poems was inspired by and begins with a nonsense phrase I once read in a dream: “Truth be told, I ate his head.” It’s also the only phrase I’ve ever read in a dream.
Is now when I should mention I culturally identify (in part) as Bohemian? I was obsessed as a teen with Nabokov’s Pale Fire, which features a Bohemian waxwing in its opening lines. I also took the book literally, probably to my detriment.
Make Sense
truth be told
I ate
his
head
of napa
whilst winding my
way through rows
of flowering
kohlrabi
Don’t Make Sense
truth be told
I ate
his
head
of state
those Bohemian waxwings
often fly high
enough to
avoid
charges
of corruption
against their fatherland
Day/Prompt 6: Write a poem entitled “[blank] in the [blank]”
The idea, of course, is to replace the brackets with different words. I decided to observe more signage and billboards on my Wednesday commute. Maybe I would find a sign that included the words, “in the.”
I did not. Not a single sign on my work commute contained this phrase.
However, upon walking into my office’s kitchenette this morning, I noticed immediately an early-pandemic-era sign above our sink which contained the words “in the.” Bingo.
Except…not quite. Do you know how many poetic forms contain 21 or 23 syllables? Not many. I was so hoping to fit this in a Fibonacci “Fib” poem. That option will have to wait for a day or three. Today, have some Found Poetry, after the dish sign my employer’s office administrator created.
Dishes in the Sink
PLEASE
don’t leave
dirty dishes
in
the
sink
now, more than ever,
we don’t want
your cooties.
kellyekosanda 