In poetry, as in life, form is a thing that we long for to guide us but break free from when it constrains us.
We are constantly negotiating the polarities of structure and freedom.
The haiku is among the simplest of poetry's guiding constraints.
We are constantly negotiating the polarities of structure and freedom.
The haiku is among the simplest of poetry's guiding constraints.
I really want one
and that is exactly why
I shouldn't have one.
When the leaves fall down
only the sturdy nests remain
during the cold months.
Just too many books
sit on the bookshelf, unread,
but time dies quickly.
talk behind your back
carries zero relevance
if you don't hear it
Framing ball-peen claw
Gavel cross-peen mallet maul
Finishing tack sledge
You knew itd break
eventually, so why
are you so upset?
The bee’s carcass was
found, beneath the back windshield,
surely there for months.
alone in my bed
with no hope of sleep because
I still smell like you
when writing haikus
sometimes they come from nowhere,
sometimes they mean nothing
There’s no enjambment
in traditional haiku
but screw the rules.
Online commenting
makes it easy to lie when
you can't see faces
your self-confidence
is forever justified
by your existence
ok, tell you what
give me some of the blanket
and take the remote
opinions are like
assholes, but assholes are like
shit: one job, same smell
Film theater floors
tackified to fly paper
by spilt, half-full Cokes.
If you’re in pitch dark
with no one there to hear you
do you still exist?
when the alarm rings
I’ll try getting out of bed
but I know I’ll fail
and that is exactly why
I shouldn't have one.
When the leaves fall down
only the sturdy nests remain
during the cold months.
Just too many books
sit on the bookshelf, unread,
but time dies quickly.
talk behind your back
carries zero relevance
if you don't hear it
Framing ball-peen claw
Gavel cross-peen mallet maul
Finishing tack sledge
You knew itd break
eventually, so why
are you so upset?
The bee’s carcass was
found, beneath the back windshield,
surely there for months.
alone in my bed
with no hope of sleep because
I still smell like you
when writing haikus
sometimes they come from nowhere,
sometimes they mean nothing
There’s no enjambment
in traditional haiku
but screw the rules.
Online commenting
makes it easy to lie when
you can't see faces
your self-confidence
is forever justified
by your existence
ok, tell you what
give me some of the blanket
and take the remote
opinions are like
assholes, but assholes are like
shit: one job, same smell
Film theater floors
tackified to fly paper
by spilt, half-full Cokes.
If you’re in pitch dark
with no one there to hear you
do you still exist?
when the alarm rings
I’ll try getting out of bed
but I know I’ll fail
All work on this website © 2004-2016 Derek Lazarski. All rights reserved.