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MONDAY, JULY 04, 2011



Creative Writing

So often, we are
barricaded by numbers
figures, with no form

I wondered at these
Simple constraints on my words
and my thinking too

Though simple (they are)
so too, simple, is a knife
and oh, how it cuts

Like a knife, are bars
Never moving but always
Holding us somewhere

Being held, unloved,
In Arbitrary places
Static freezes tears

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight
Tears and sympathy: prizes
for the losing side

Break bars, dull knives, fight
Be the unseen stone inside
The prisoner's gut

You'll like it more if
You only learn to relent
Fighting makes sorrow

Fighting makes sorrow
sorrow leads to misery
Can't we just make tea?

A warm cup of tea
Let it soothe you, heart and soul
and dull your senses

No, no, no, no, no
Stay sharp, stay strong: like bars and knives
Cut the soothing voice

Panacea. Death.
Calm, Contentment and stillness
No more violence

Just five and seven
Give the children simple toys
They will never stop

Never stop playing
Playing is a harmless game
Games cannot hurt them

Let them see you play
With just your five and seven
They will not suspect

You can break iron
Now shatter their well made swords
Upon your simple stone

Hidden in our gut
The mighty stone unchecked, weighs
Just five and seven



This poem makes me feel rather uneasy. It isn't a stressful kind of uneasy, just the sort of feeling that I don't have much control over the sentiments evoked by the poem I suppose. The ideas of constraints that you bring up in the first and second stanza is what made me read the whole thing... My brother (who, put nicely, has an odd way of thinking) came up with a counting system using colors. I still have trouble seeing it because it is so hard letting go of the significance imposed upon the arbitrary characters that I grew up recognizing as meaningful numbers.
I don't follow the logic of the development in this poem.
I'm curious about whether I'm too stuck on the exact meaning of each sentence to fully appreciate anything you're actually trying to say. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think that if I were illiterate, and not stuck on the logical progression of phrases, this poem would yield much more.



p.s. I think repetition of words to add up to 5 or 7 is cheating and takes away from your haiku.



If making an arbitrary line of five syllables was difficult, I'd agree, but since it is so simple to make a non-repetitive replacement for these lines, I feel no shame in leaving them as is. Cheating only matters when it is used to circumvent challenges.

To add (if anyone ever reads this again): the poem is organized into five haiku, seven haiku, five haiku: a haiku haiku

The middle section addresses the fight against form. The irony is that the emphatic "Fight" and "No" are repeated to fit into the form.

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