01/07/06

Ms. Haiku

I woke up and the sky was yellow.
The pale petals of a rose overlapping.
The yellow curved beyond edges
and slipped under the lifting fog.

The yellow and the fog rolled
like oil and water; a temporal debate.
I felt life stuck in this moment,
but then it moved with the streams of icicles.

The longest day during this week,
and I needed a reason to think.
The unfolding brightness of beginnings blinded me
stumbling, I grabbed for the table
and a few pens slipped.

DopeBeastie

interesting...

the woman is the yellow... the man, the fog?

the only ellusion left to conflict remains in the "oil and water... the temporal debate". but, to me, this is where the meat of this piece is... i liked the tension in the visual of the man tapping his coffee cup. i wanted to smack his fool head, upside.... and i could be wrong, of course, or just propelled by my own private interest

but. haiku, this is what happened with my rolling edit/revision... it took on new meaning and sputtered and failed at the end, so much so I was disgusted with my own betrayal of the original intenet. lol... i felt like a politician

at some point, snapshot this and take out some of the superflous words.... should "life stuck" be "life-stuck"? or is it "life stick"? i kinda like the assonance in the repeating "i"s... but "week" and "think" are a bit too similar in this application...


just my o's...
pass the salt

Ms. Haiku

PastaNazi wrote:

interesting...

the woman is the yellow... the man, the fog?

the only ellusion left to conflict remains in the "oil and water... the temporal debate". but, to me, this is where the meat of this piece is... i liked the tension in the visual of the man tapping his coffee cup. i wanted to smack his fool head, upside.... and i could be wrong, of course, or just propelled by my own private interest

but. haiku, this is what happened with my rolling edit/revision... it took on new meaning and sputtered and failed at the end, so much so I was disgusted with my own betrayal of the original intenet. lol... i felt like a politician

at some point, snapshot this and take out some of the superflous words.... should "life stuck" be "life-stuck"? or is it "life stick"? i kinda like the assonance in the repeating "i"s... but "week" and "think" are a bit too similar in this application...


just my o's...
pass the salt

No more man, it is a bright morning, but with fog the sun can't be seen, and it starts off pale yellow instead of bright. I definitely think the man just made the poem choppy, there was no flow between first paragraph and second. He could be his own poem, but as part of the yellow poem, he made it unbelievable. Why would there be this much tension, and no relationship, no history to show for it? burtschips was right about the lack of emotion in that, and from his post I realized how incomplete it was. Yep, I would need to work on the flow and feel of sounds of the words in this one. This draft is more like what I can understand, and work on to find something deeper.

burtschips

hey Ms. haiku..... I like the mystery in your writing, any book, art I've ever liked left me with questions, never the answer. I actually think it is quite direct but still ambiguous.

For me, I like the way you have developed the yellow sky, the atmosphere, but I think the man could still work with it, I think the yellow sky is the scene, the man is the subject, just for me. the relationship with the man, the man, is played out against the yellow..... I could see the stanzas interchanging, maybe the man developing, so then it could be choppy, maybe.... but there must be a way of binding the two seemlessly if that is what you would like to achieve. Maybe the man is choppy and the yellow flows and the contrast between the two is the link.

Ms. Haiku

No, the man's a loser. People people, what's the big deal with the guy? Did he give you a hook into the poem? Once he entered was there a better picture? He's getting his own poem one day . . .and it won't be pretty

Ms. Haiku

Man, I just reread this poem. Wow, pretty cool. I didn't know I could write like that. See, I need my morning ritual of coffee again. It's got to be that. To be able to write like that I need a coffee machine. Wow, I just floored myself! I should write more! Who'd knew.