They add up: those
blank days
of blank hours
to blank years.
What the hell!
But, oh, often enough
the brain fills in
as spring does
the empty blank branch
with a green smile.
Miraculously, this poem engendered a very warm, positive, portable ideational shift, the content of which I should probably keep to myself. How does/did it affect you?
Btw, I’ve been doing a lot of reading in secession studies and see a place in the new autonomy for your haiku—ironically, more so than my poems. Would you be able to take “our kind of haiku” for an answer in a new Commonwealth that includes practically all of the former red states and the rural areas of many others?
It’s a friendly poem, not the kind you usually write.
Since there won’t be public anything, including libraries or any sort of infrastructure (like sidewalks or roads) to get to said libraries (all that stuff is socialism), I’m thinking my haiku probably wouldn’t be read much in any red state utopia.
Au contraire, it will be the only place socialism can work because its dispensation will include a protocol for human enhancement through genetic and other reproductive technologies. Long-term that would mean more blacks like Herman Cain, more Jews like Mark Levin, and more whites like Patrick Gillespie—in fact millions and millions and millions of whites like Patrick Gillespie, thousands of whom will have been inspired to the highest standards of citizenship by reading your haiku in elementary and high school. By contrast, assuming I survive the initial protocol (not guaranteed) my current body of poetry will in all likelihood militate for only provisional citizenship (at best) or sterilization (at worst). But as Emily Dickinson put it, “Most I loved the cause that slew me.” In any case, it probably behooves my type of imagination to strive toward the example of poets like Longfellow, Kipling, Frost and Patrick Gillespie—soon.
Patrick, are you aware the e-mail we all got from WordPress spelled chickadee chikadee?? (once an editor always an editor . . . ) A late screed of my own is in your e-mail).
Yes, typo. I caught it right after I sent it, and corrected. Tragic that a literary genius such as I can’t write a single damned sentence without screwing up something.
6: January 21st 2021 | bottlecap
This charming haiku kind of stuck with me to the point I had to write something myself. Any impressions?
Deadpan
They add up: those
blank days
of blank hours
to blank years.
What the hell!
But, oh, often enough
the brain fills in
as spring does
the bleak blank branch
with a green smile.
LikeLike
As soon as I successfully say “the bleak blank branch”, I’ll get back to you.
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Thanks. Does this help?
But, oh, often enough
the brain fills in
as spring does
the empty blank branch
with a green smile.
LikeLike
Deadpan
They add up: those
blank days
of blank hours
to blank years.
What the hell!
But, oh, often enough
the brain fills in
as spring does
the empty blank branch
with a green smile.
Miraculously, this poem engendered a very warm, positive, portable ideational shift, the content of which I should probably keep to myself. How does/did it affect you?
Btw, I’ve been doing a lot of reading in secession studies and see a place in the new autonomy for your haiku—ironically, more so than my poems. Would you be able to take “our kind of haiku” for an answer in a new Commonwealth that includes practically all of the former red states and the rural areas of many others?
LikeLike
It’s a friendly poem, not the kind you usually write.
Since there won’t be public anything, including libraries or any sort of infrastructure (like sidewalks or roads) to get to said libraries (all that stuff is socialism), I’m thinking my haiku probably wouldn’t be read much in any red state utopia.
LikeLike
Au contraire, it will be the only place socialism can work because its dispensation will include a protocol for human enhancement through genetic and other reproductive technologies. Long-term that would mean more blacks like Herman Cain, more Jews like Mark Levin, and more whites like Patrick Gillespie—in fact millions and millions and millions of whites like Patrick Gillespie, thousands of whom will have been inspired to the highest standards of citizenship by reading your haiku in elementary and high school. By contrast, assuming I survive the initial protocol (not guaranteed) my current body of poetry will in all likelihood militate for only provisional citizenship (at best) or sterilization (at worst). But as Emily Dickinson put it, “Most I loved the cause that slew me.” In any case, it probably behooves my type of imagination to strive toward the example of poets like Longfellow, Kipling, Frost and Patrick Gillespie—soon.
LikeLike
Patrick, are you aware the e-mail we all got from WordPress spelled chickadee chikadee?? (once an editor always an editor . . . ) A late screed of my own is in your e-mail).
LikeLike
Yes, typo. I caught it right after I sent it, and corrected. Tragic that a literary genius such as I can’t write a single damned sentence without screwing up something.
LikeLike