some Kerouac style haikus of random childhood memories

wide-eyed child

awed at his sketches

and gentle guitar ditties

*

a pipe smells homely

pop inhale pop inhale

hazy calm surrounds

*

wade into a lake

where the rotten pike waits…

water gushes into wellingtons

*

An avalanche of Westies

the first thing they saw-

our beaming faces

*

sunsets & rockpool hops

wandering Welsh beaches

a bottlenose greets us!

*

cave mouths by seashore

return our whoops and wails

through the rasping waves

*

looking through loopholes,

of lofty castle remnants

time here afolly

*

He’s laughing, dancing

through bleached corridors

in a hospital gown!

*

alone skimming stones

bobs, bobs, bobs, away

under soft lilac sky

*

nb. featured image – John Constable ‘cloud study at sunset’

Advertisements

just a few haikus that prove Kerouac was a fucking genius…

I occasionally dip into Kerouac’s Book of Haikus when I need inspiration.. just a few lines of poetry so perfect, so encapsulating, so carefree…. just look and see

from Dharma Pops:

 

“the sun keeps getting

dimmer – foghorns

began to blow in the bay”

 

“the sky is still empty,

the rose is still

on the typewriter keys”

 

“In the sun

the butterfly wings

like a church window”

 

“You’d be surprised

how little I knew

even up to yesterday…”

 

“praying all the time –

talking

to myself”

 

“the bird came on the branch

-danced three times-

and burred away”

***

 

“Behold, I am the prophet of the lightning!”

West_-_Benjamin_Franklin_Drawing_Electricity_from_the_Sky_(ca_1816)
Benjamin West – Franklin drawing electricity from the sky (1816)

“I love all those who are like heavy drops falling singly from the dark cloud that hangs over mankind: they prophesy the coming of the lightning and as prophets they perish. Behold, I am the prophet of the lightning and a heavy drop from the cloud!”

– Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

***

raptured conductor

beckons the glorious maelstrom

to o’erthrow the ages

 

 

Wordsworth haikus/photos from a trip to Grasmere

Under rapturous gaze

Grasmere transformed,

lost in a lyrical haze

 

sublime visitations,

captured in clearest cadence,

he wandered, wondered…

 

with scrawling quill

words leapt over landscape

and soon began to soar…

img_20180429_095737660948440956.jpg

img_20180427_164706691_hdr1495085868.jpg
top of Wordsworth’s back garden at Dove Cottage
img_20180427_174305221_hdr147460231.jpg
“within the bounds of this huge concave; here should be my home, this valley be my world” – from Wordsworth’s poem ‘Home at Grasmere’
img_20180428_172155153799105318.jpg
grasmere caves
img_20180429_115732857_ll1894475142.jpg
the first page from Wordsworth’s first handwritten manuscript of the Prelude … awesome to see it up close

***

some haikus inspired by Kerouac

Above all, a haiku must be very simple and free of all poetic trickery and make a little picture and yet be as airy and graceful as a Vivaldi pastorella – Jack Kerouac

These past few months I’ve been very busy with PhD work and in between panicking about my lack of productivity, reading reams of unusable theory and wrenching measly ideas from nothingness, I’ve been writing haikus. Not the usual form of haiku which I sometimes write and post on here (the 5-7-5ves) but ones inspired by the haikus of Jack Kerouac. Kerouac’s haikus are not in any way cordoned or restricted by meter or syllables or anything else, they are ‘free of all poetic trickery’ he says, and are instead just 3 simple lines of writing using few words to channel an idea or ‘picture’. There is a real power and depth to them that is very therapeutic, both to read and write.

Simplicity. Minimal abstraction. Total freedom of thought. And occasionally, it feels almost like you’ve seen or even touched something profound.

Here’s a few examples of Kerouac’s haikus:

Drunk as a hoot owl

writing letters

By thunderstorm

Useless! useless!

-heavy rain driving

Into the sea

Halloween colors

orange and black

On a summer butterfly

Wild to sit on a haypile,

Writing haikus

Drinkin wine

Gull sailing

in the saffron sky-

The Holy Ghost wanted it

Barefoot by the sea,

stopping to scratch one ankle

With one toe

Perfectly silent

in the starry night

the little tree

Swinging on delicate hinges

the autumn leaf

almost off the stem

The red roof of the barn

is ravelled

like familiar meat

rain’s over, hammer on wood

-this cobweb

rides the sun shine

in the sun

the butterfly wings

like a church window

here’s a few of mine:

the swallows path

sketches the outline

of distant mountains

Words, shards,

jagged approximations

that get me by

A falcon perches

on the crash barrier

waylaid by human logic

During the eclipse

I saw a beautiful smile

with stars for eyes

everyone else

saw only white walls

She saw the snowy hills

In a childish dream

he smeared paint onto my cheek

and I tipped into infinity

Driving by night,

snow hits the windscreen

like stars at warp speed

a player piano

whispers jazz

into an empty bar

Will you fall

into these words

or stumble over them?

in heaven

frontcrawling

through clouds of people

Gauguin was humbled

by the people of the forest

who spoke only truth

body aflame

but mind soaring

on a higher plane

the jackdaw

with its charcoal wings

pranced across the grass

Continue reading “some haikus inspired by Kerouac”