I posted this a few years ago, but I think it’s worth posting again.
A while back, during a phase when I was having trouble writing fiction, a friend of mine showed me a haiku they’d been working on. I couldn’t manage something like a whole story, but writing seventeen syllables of poetry came easily, and felt right.
These poems are only sort of traditional haiku. For one thing, I used English syllables instead of trying to adapt English words to Japanese morae which are similar to syllables, but not the same. I did use a seasonal reference in the first line of each, but they aren’t necessarily the kind of seasonal imagery that would have been used in a traditional poem. Also, I talked a lot more directly about what I was feeling, instead of using the metaphors to convey it.
However, I did try to convey my thoughts as I experienced them in that transient moment. I also tried not to revise, to just let them be as they were. (I think I cheated a couple of times, though.)
These haikus aren’t necessarily in order, and they’re from a bit ago, so they won’t match up with the current weather, but I hope the words mean something to you.
Light through naked trees.
My dreams were not peaceful, and
I just want to sleep.
In night’s deep belly,
midnight is a great crevasse,
dark but sheltering.
Pet me, please. Now, please.
Stop tapping on that machine.
I’m here; I love you.
Evening starts at three.
I have a day’s work to do
in the waning light.
The twilight sky bleeds
to deeper and deeper shades
of thoughtful Winter.
Half-naked branches,
black, with yellow flags waving
gently in the wind.
Bitter, windy, dark,
clattering cold strikes the rain,
sharp, overwhelming.
Hasten through the cold,
the wind pushing you backward.
The windows are bright.