There is a note on my iPhone which reads
Saturday morning. I turn the pages hungrily, basking in the sleeping breath on my shoulder and the curl of a warm body. Cars rush hums outside while we lay, having to go nowhere.
Then, underneath, it says “YHIS SHOULD BR A HAIKU 5, 7, 5” because I get bored and type rather quickly when I want to get back to my book.
No context should be necessary.
What I thought I’d do, though, is chart the progress of haiku-creation. Because I can’t write haiku. I can write oddly concise poetry, but once something written down I have an awfully hard time cutting things out. In an essay I am the queen of concise, I love chopping down paragraphs and rephrasing – it’s like being a walking thesaurus. Will’s dissertation will testify to the power of cutting and re-cutting (although whether it enjoyed it is another matter).
But when it comes to poetry: no idea. It feels as though I am cutting away meaning by cutting words, or being obtuse just for the sake of it. If I want to say something a certain way then I try to say it, but if I try to cut then I feel as though I’m making it more difficult than necessary for someone to read it. Which I’m sure isn’t a concern that I should have, but I remember the previous versions so I worry. I guess no-one else remembers it so i should learn to forget…
Cars rush as we bask in sleep
Bask in warm-bodied sleep, cars rush past;
We have nowhere to go
ignore the rushing of cars,
with nowhere to go.
Which as you can tell, sucks.
Curl together in warm sleep
No. Definitely gone.
The definitive version will forever be the second one. Which may now get its own post to make up for this mess…