FIREPLACE HAIKUS
Now I may wither into the truth.
—W. B. Yeats
1.
The lass on my lap
Said: I won’t play with snow
Today, abuelo.
2.
Even snowmen
Will freeze, will crack in two.
Can’t play tomorrow.
3.
On the frozen pond,
Dead frogs and birds on icy
Snow are broken, too.
4.
O, look! The mouse jumped
Into his hole in the wall
To keep his tail warm.
5.
Inside, a fireplace
Crackles, a heated teapot
Is on the table.
6.
A soggy paper
Of old and current events
Says: Cold kills homeless.
7.
Use paper for fire,
Abuelo, the lass offered.
Nodding approval
8.
I muttered wryly:
The snow is my newspaper,
Your eyes my fireplace.
— ALBERT B. CASUGA
Mississauga, ON 1-23-11
The Given Line (ligne donne) from Morning Porch
In the bitter night, a white-footed mouse bounded unerringly from the corner of the wall to a hole 20 feet away. The snow is my newspaper.---Dave Bonta, Morning Porch, 1-23-11 (http://www.morningporch.com/)
In the same blog, Philippine-born Norfolk poet Luisa Igloria explains the composition process she uses in writing her poems in response to the Morning Porch meditations. Like this writer, she subscribes to the process of letting the lines "trigger" a poetic experience that she pursues through its complexities. Also found in Bonta's Via Negativa (http://www.vianegativa.us/).
Likewise, through this series, I expect to write about how a "poem happens" when it springs from the given line (ligne donne) or lines that gets the poem written (i.e., style, technique, theory, evaluation).
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