blues antihaiku

December 12, 2009 at 7:14 am | Posted in poetry, writing | 21 Comments
Tags: poetry, writing

collaborative
seeking the corroborative narrative
“it darkles all this our funnominal world” James Joyce

The news from the north is that every snowflake is a unique perfection. One day, I am going to roll around in a huge field of them and get very cold and wet and run for the wooden box full of steam. I hope to see you there, bewildered, amazed, glowing.

The great enemy of art is complacency. And the great enemy of language, poetry.

(Best leave that comma there, Squires. The Editor is unhappy. She thinks that poetry is made of language. She does not realise that every snowflake is a unique perfection as is every mote of dust which irritates the eye.)

“It’s only a matter of time before humans claim to have taught the birds to fly
and that they no longer grieve having disinvented breathing.”

on the souls of my Derrida shoes
not quite yet worn through

gone soft a jewish marching
song an antihaiku blues

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grieve -
early 13c., “cause pain,” from tonic stem of O.Fr. grever

Comment by Paul Squires— December 12, 2009 #
that is awful grieving. and a wonderful expression. on the bright side the idea of rolling around in a bed of millions of snowflakes (each its own individual); then running into a sauna (or the other way around) sounds lovely! i’ll be reflecting on those enemies you mentioned.

Comment by Mrs. Ott— December 12, 2009 #
box of steam, i could see it. such illumination in ideas words imagery. exquisite rhythm too and a heartbeat, excellence wordsonified, pure ginga tao beautiful

Comment by tipota— December 12, 2009 #
Gorgeous Mr.Squires!

Comment by Mental Mist— December 12, 2009 #
well this is a lovely ramble in the snow with a quick stop in the hot box there in the 2 paired rhymes which even Paul Simon would see is no ordinary haiku

Comment by art predator— December 12, 2009 #
Well, at least this disgusting weather is good for something. I’m going to state why I like some of your work. You are a focused writer. You don’t become dazzled by the excess of words. You have a natural ability to choose the precise word for a specific feeling or image. As for your intentional misspellings and complete disregard for grammar…I can respect that in anyone. Very refreshing, like rolling around in snowflakes. Bracing even.

Comment by Val— December 13, 2009 #
*!

Comment by Agnes, the Kari person— December 13, 2009 #
I am from that field of snowflakes, and bewilderment is only the beginning. Poetry is made of snow, and words are the ingredients that make enemies react. In the north, we’re okay with this, and know that the blues complement the white and cold like any cultural combination that you and I might disagree on.

This is beauty past the caution tape. I love it.

Comment by tradersolstice— December 13, 2009 #
Excellent Paul. I’ve rarely seen a comma hold more importance. I once wrote a similar opinion in a comment response when questioned on my grammar, “as a poet I have a total disregard for gramattical rules”. That said, as is evidenced by your popularity, each snow flake is unique but yours are sought out through the internet blizzard and held up for all other flakes to envy. Well done.

Comment by Mark William Jackson— December 13, 2009 #
Splendiferous. Ah to roll in the snow and then a hot sauna (this is what they do in Finland where Santa comes from – very good for the circulation, and we all want good circulation) – I’ll be in on that.

Comment by Gabrielle Bryden— December 13, 2009 #
I can’t imagine you ever getting complacent Paul… this is another slice of brilliance. These lines:

One day, I am going to roll around in a huge field of them and get very cold and wet and run for the wooden box full of steam. I hope to see you there, bewildered, amazed, glowing.

light me up!

Comment by gnunn— December 13, 2009 #
tell me it’s not all about the complacency of the corrected comma…did i note something abt a back desert 40 yr adventure…hmm i could be mistaken…it is snowing here today…one snowflake at a time…drifting…

Comment by pieceofpie— December 14, 2009 #
I love this — exploring the mysteries of art with humility and awe.

Comment by Thomma Lyn— December 15, 2009 #
What a fantasticc post paul, I had such a good time catching up with your writtings.
I loved a couple of sentence from this one, like
The great enemy of art is complacency. And the great enemy of language, poetry. This sentence is incredible for me, it has
so much wisdom, it is thought provoking, well we know that
art is about a constant search, so complacency does not fit well. But poetry the enemy of language is a fantastic concept. Of course it is, poetry is about breaking language rules, using the language, understanding language, playing with the limits of understanding. Every poem is perfect as it is, and it is what it needs to be.

Nothing suprises me about humans, specially ego related stuff.

Beautifull ending, I still wonder how will the anti haiku sound like.

Take care paul, you really left me thinking about poetry and language. thanks for that

Comment by mariana_soffer— December 15, 2009 #
Paul, I concur with all the above comments. I am always impressed by the depth,breadth, and eloquence of your work. I have read this several times and discover something new each time. Love the word “mote”. Best, Qazse

Comment by qazse— December 16, 2009 #
“every snowflake is a unique perfection as is every mote of dust which irritates the eye” BOOM!!!!

Comment by gypsy— December 16, 2009 #
I wish I could spend more time around here, it’s like escaping from the sharp breeze outside to a “steam box” or from the cruel heat to a cool greenhouse…it’s a privilige to be able to follow your bright shadow, Po!

Comment by Anonymous— December 17, 2009 #
Opps, gone without signing..that was me, above…with the privilege of being able to make typos:)

Comment by hayat— December 17, 2009 #
“And the great enemy of language, poetry.”

I was thinking about this line tonight as I walked with the dog who lives with me. Language is linear and strives for precision. Language is limiting and exclusive – while poetry frees itself from the burden of proof.

Comment by qazse— December 19, 2009 #
well, i don’t know what all these people are really trying to say about this piece Paul. i’ll just say that i thought it was fun to read, so i read it twice. it’s like you just wrote your thoughts without stopping. i like it when that happens to me.

Comment by oneflyingemu— December 19, 2009 #
I did it in reverse. I went from where nature is mild and came here where nature is cold, tho’ frank and true, but where the humanity is overwrought and dissembling, both kind and cruel. Humanity is a mirror of weather. The kind will be cruel, and the cruel, kind. Later. After hi and low pressures.

Comment by Aletha— December 25, 2009 #