Recently, I moved to making collages with a mini poem and a photo I myself take. It goes well with haiku as I usually take inspiration from my own surroundings, and it works fine on all the microblogs where I post every now and then.
Here, I can post both the picture and the poem:
Give unscathed smiles,
Coloured with decaying leaves –
Vigour calming down.
I was checking the blogs I follow on Tumblr the other day, when I saw a haibun that provoked some thinking. I usually spend mornings getting ready for work and having coffee and small breakfast while listening to the morning news on one of the TV channels. I don’t do sit down at my coffee contemplating the morning and creating poetry. And why is that? I have all it takes: a nice balcony with flower pots, a view over some tree crowns and a coffee table from where to enjoy it all.
So, the next morning I went straight to it. After making coffee, of course. And I took some pictures to add to my poetry. Here is my haiku of the day, and the collage I made to support it.
No blooms in the pots Solitary green leaves – grey morning in autumn.
That was, for real, the first such morning. Summer was so rainy that we waited for it until August. I hoped it would last longer than usual. But now it stepped away to autumn. Not fair at all! We want more!
Haibun is a piece of art where you write a short prose paragraph and add a haiku to it, thus making a whole thing. The blog post that impressed me so much was that of my friend Bjorn Rudberg whom I met through micro poetry originally, and who has since opened to longer forms. All that said, I can now move on to my day.
I see the death of orange, and red, and yellow
I feel the softness below my snickers-clad feet giving way to
Baredness and scarcity
That make me feel sickly cold with the greyness of the sky
The final feast passed without me attending
I just forgot.
I can’t relate to gorging food and drinks inside,
To small talk on random topics, and to smiles,
When fire is dying outside,
When colour is getting buried in sobriety
And spiky nakedness
That prick my eyes
Oh, a feast no one would tell me about
Maybe they invited me, but I didn’t listen…
This prompt is not very new. I remember writing to it at least once before. I wasn’t happy with the result. The poem you see is the second one I wrote today because I didn’t like my first attempt. I think it was nearly the same as the original one, though I can’t bear to start checking that now.
Once upon a Writing class The autumn went in through the glass The warm sun spilled its orange softness All around the silent room, full of eager listeners.
It felt just like one day in summer When the sun rays somehow squeezed between my eyelashes Like silvery sparks, The sun was brighter then, And I could see and feel the water glitches hopping up and down and Side to side before my very eyes
The professor’s voice was dim and pleasant In its monotony of steady knowledge Made me wish I had the same steadiness in everything: beliefs, ideas, expression. You know, the overall impression one gives away.