the Ingleton tree

Branches arc

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static no more

 

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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 swooping swallow

sketches the outline

of distant mountains

Word shards

the jagged approximations

that get me by

A falcon perches

on a crash barrier

waylaid by human logic

During the eclipse

a beautiful smile

with stars for eyes

everyone else

saw just white walls

I saw snowy hills

Driving by night

the snow hits the window

like stars at warp speed

a player piano

whispers all that jazz

into an empty bar

do tell – will you fall

into these words

or stumble over them?

frontcrawling

in heaven

through clouds of people

Gauguin humbled

by these people of the forest

who told no lies

body aflame

but mind soaring

on a higher plane

the jackdaw

with charcoal wings

prancing on the grass

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