Thursday, September 23, 2010

Daily Poems #3-8

I am now six Daily Poems behind and because of this I decided to give myself a challenge. A while back a friend of mine introduced me to the American way of writing Haiku's. As I have just discovered on Wikipedia, the Japanese write their Haiku's a bit differently and it is quite confusing to me. The Japanese write their Haiku's in 17 moras, not in syllables. Apparently they are very different, however I really am quite too lazy to figure this out. Especially since it makes a huge difference whether they are written in English or Japanese, and I do not know how to speak nor write in Japanese. So here I will attempt to write six decent Haiku's. Or what I now like to call American Haiku's. These will be considered my Daily Poems 3-8!



for my soul will sing
in mountains and the blue sea
forever to hear

your cries will be heard
my song will sooth you to sleep
forever no tears

when my child awakes
smiles shall haunt her precious days
forever no fear.



for you my dear love
i shall suffer with pleasure
sacrificing heart

with every tear
i shall bleed from my sweet flesh
never shall be pain



as i walk these stones
i pass the sweet aroma
the smell of flower

these roses were made
for the sweet souls like my own
for the purest kind

i shall always stop
will foolish patience in time
to smell life growing

forever to stay
will i relieve myself here
such burden to some

but there is one kind
the red yellow of roses
that shall steal heaven

my breath it will take
and with will shall i give thee
every sole time



the rain falls down now
with such an urgent duty
the darkest of clouds

we have been waiting
for these times to come to us
our patience prevailed

the smells of this rain
over come each who exist here
and we shall savor

yes to celebrate
we shall all dance in tribute
coming together

rain will not divide
there is no prejudice here
for nature loves all

although we're not same
rain shall never punish us
for all time it falls.


7. "Small Suffering"

children will now play
in the gardens of their minds
the innocent place

for with ignorance
they have always learned to stay
when darkness takes them

with not a sole choice
resilient they will be
timelessly captive

their eyes tell stories
of pasts buried in their soul
deep secrets to keep

and still they play on
in their little grove gardens
never will they leave



with flowers in spring
rabbit has plenty to eat
waking itchy nose

he shall hop from home
stealing what he always finds
carrots in great sight

with munches of joy
echo's race through the garden
for all to now hear

not worried is he
gathering with all his time
he shall gallop fast

hopping to safety
he stares at his tasty goods
full belly to come

Wow I had a really fun time writing all of these Haiku's. I don't think I would have ever wrote such poetry without this blog. It was a very good idea to start as I have mentioned before. I knew I was in the right mood today to express such emotion and imagination. My mind has has been wondering today. Not to mention the many things that are going on in my life. Today my real Dad called me and that always makes me happy. He seems to be calling more often. I'm always very worried about him but as time goes on, it definitely heals. For quite some time now he has been making the right decisions for himself and has been doing so well. I know now that he is here for me and it feels good. It's what I'v been waiting for, for so much of my life now. I don't think though that without the mistakes my Dad has made that I would be the same person I am today and I don't think my emotions would be at the level they are now.

I'm not sure if I have worded that correctly enough to understand but I have always felt that with pain in life comes so much more emotion in ones personality. And without all of my emotions I couldn't write the way I do. My amount of empathy for the characters I imagine or the situations I make up in my mind is endless. With empathy comes great understanding in my opinion. You can never understand some things completely but it's the thought that counts. Especially when so genuine. Everything I write is genuine. Never so personal though. I tend to write so randomly that stories seem to develop on their own in strange ways.  I feel most of the time that I am not writing my own poetry but that some force in me lives there and sometimes likes to express itself by possessing me. Never have I thought of a story and then wrote the story more beautiful. I have always just began to write and eventually it turns into a story. Only images can come to me in such an instance and I never know why. But I write about them and describe them the best of my ability for others to see so I can share such beautiful places in my mind. My many upon many "grove gardens."

No comments:

Post a Comment