I am inspired by song lyrics sometimes, and I’ve thought about trying my hand at songwriting. (I once took a songwriting MOOC.) But when I sit down to write something meaningful, I often write a lot of mundane blah blah blah —the stuff my journals are filled with. (I recently had the revelation, when I thought to go back and read them, that my journals are most definitely NOT for reading. They are so boring. What they are for is for me. To write. To get my thoughts out. So I can move on with my life.)
I decided to write some of the nuggets of what I think about, what I care about, what makes me tick and what makes me ticked off. And what emerged was haiku. It’s very satisfying. Small contained packets, just manageable enough.
And here’s the interesting thing: I feel compelled to share this writing. I haven’t wanted to share my writing before. Unless I did years ago —back when I was part of a poetry group. (I believe that was a previous life. Ah yes, it was— it was pre-motherhood.) So here are a few of the ones I like best:
I note each hello.
Especially absent ones.
A once-friendly peer
smoothly avoids eye contact.
No need to say hi.
They are somewhat negative. Okay, maybe a couple that are on the more positive, or at least neutral, side:
I should not have to seek it.
Drop adult. Be child.
4. (on Sandy)
She is comfort, just
like the quilts she makes— care in
every stitch and word.
Well, this is not great. I don’t know how to code poetry so there aren’t great big spaces between each line. And I could probably go look it up, but it’s time for bed. For now, I will just let this post have to remain imperfect. This is not a happy thing for me. (Perhaps the subject of my next haiku!)