#long form poetry

[figfiggyfigure]

A man goes to a fortune teller who says;

"you are going to drown to death"

The man, fearful of this, vowed to never set foot in water. Even in his home, he would never run a bath, and never fill the sink, lest he trip and meet his end.

12 years later he is caught in a flash flood, miraculously, he survives. He thinks:

"Did she lie? Is there still a chance it will happen tonight? What about the next night?"

in fear for his life, he moves to New Mexico.

A week later, on the hottest day of the year he leaves the house for work. On the way to his car, a man stabs him and takes his wallet.

The coroner finds the stab wound in his lung. He drowned in his own blood. Fate, is fickle and inescapable.

[the-growth-diaries]

Ode to a messy breakup

I want to get to the place where I forgive you. I really do. But how do I do that when I’ve been hurt so viciously. I want to give you grace and I’ve been trying really hard to. But I’m just so angry at you. And I care about you too much to see you deteriorating away at yourself like this.

And I hate that I care cause clearly you don’t. And I don’t know the person you are anymore and that is terrifying. Because I thought I knew you. I believed that if I knew anyone, I knew you. And now I don’t. All in a month I don’t know the person I used to love. I don’t know the person who I planned my future with. And I’m so tired of looking back to find what went wrong. And then being mad about it. I’m so sick of being mad at you.

I want bygones to be bygones. But I feel like bygones speak to each other. I don’t know.

Maybe I miss you.

Maybe I miss my best friend. Maybe I want to be loved. Maybe I don’t want to associate you with hurt and anger. Maybe I thought you would be the one I marry. Maybe I look out my window hoping to see you peeking out from yours. I’m sick of it. I want to forgive you. I want to talk with you. Why did this end messy if I didn’t do anything to you? Why toss me aside all in one night?

Was there anything I could have done to keep you with me? Sad to say, I would have changed because I loved you so much. I know better now. Do I? Do I know better? I miss you. Or, I miss who I used to love. I miss my best friend. I can’t even say hi to you right now.

Isn’t that crazy? But it doesn’t seem like you’re making an effort. Why are you not making an effort?

All I get back are stares. Stares that I give back because I’m too worried about what will happen when I do greet you. Will I get the cold shoulder? Will we talk? I don’t want to be hopeful if we actually talk. But I fucking hate small talk. And I hate awkward conversations in front of friends who know what’s going on. I’m scared you don’t want to talk to me. I’m scared that you view me in the same way I view you.

An asshole with bad hair and teeth, who is kind of ugly and isn’t taking care of themselves. And that terrifies me. Cause I look in the mirror and I feel beautiful and I look beautiful. But what if you look in the mirror and feel the same? But I see you for your ugly sides now. I didn’t think I would see them. I didn’t think you would see mine either. But what if you do?

I’m terrified that you resent me. I don’t know what for, but I think you do. Why else would you stop reaching out? Not like you ever did since the break up. I think you resent me. How else do you stop loving me so fast? Why can’t I stop thinking about you? Why, why, why….

[roharris]

exalted! no breaks

pass go as much as it takes

please of course take breaks

anointed! one of

visionaries; bambi dear.

his spirt said love

confident! all light!

20/20 FOV green tint

no breaks! love can’t wait.

present! i am here

open to receive and share

presenting i care.

leader! birthright, weight.

nah, there wasn’t a sign up sheet

asked and you received

Hercules! fairy!

bolster the community

singing, gratitude

messenger! on earth

share please those stories of worth

for i was once dirt

rain forest! bright being

anchors dropped, reef sown,

marinate with you?

Worthy! devoted

righteous the way you love hood

be yourself. order follows you

[corvidcall]

None Of You Know What Haiku Are

I'm going to preface this by saying that i am not an expert in ANY form of poetry, just an enthusiast. Also, this post is... really long. Too long? Definitely too long. Whoops! I love poetry.

If you ask most English-speaking people (or haiku-bot) what a haiku is, they would probably say that it's a form of poetry that has 3 lines, with 5, and then 7, and then 5 syllables in them. That's certainly what I was taught in school when we did our scant poetry unit, but since... idk elementary school when I learned that, I've learned that that's actually a pretty inaccurate definition of haiku. And I think that inaccurate definition is a big part of why most people (myself included until relatively recently!) think that haiku are kind of... dumb? unimpressive? simple and boring? I mean, if you can just put any words with the right number of syllables into 3 lines, what makes it special?

Well, let me get into why the 5-7-5 understanding of haiku is wrong, and also what makes haiku so special (with examples)!

First of all, Japanese doesn't have syllables! There's a few different names for what phonetic units actually make up the language- In Japanese, they're called "On" (音), which translates to "sound", although English-language linguists often call it a "mora" (μ), which (quoting from Wikipedia here) "is a basic timing unit in the phonology of some spoken languages, equal to or shorter than a syllable." (x) "Oh" is one syllable, and also one mora, whereas "Oi" has one syllable, but two moras. "Ba" has one mora, "Baa" has two moras, etc. In English, we would say that a haiku is made up of three lines, with 5-7-5 syllables in them, 17 syllables total. In Japanese, that would be 17 sounds.

For an example of the difference, the word "haiku", in English, has 2 syllables (hai-ku), but in Japanese, はいく has 3 sounds (ha-i-ku). "Christmas" has 2 syllables, but in Japanese, "クリスマス" (ku-ri-su-ma-su) is 5 sounds! that's a while line on its own! Sometimes the syllables are the same as the sounds ("sushi" is two syllables, and すし is two sounds), but sometimes they're very different.

In addition, words in Japanese are frequently longer than their English equivalents. For example, the word "cuckoo" in Japanese is "ほととぎす" (hototogisu).

Now, I'm sure you're all very impressed at how I can use an English to Japanese dictionary (thank you, my mother is proud), but what does any of this matter? So two languages are different. How does that impact our understanding of haiku?

Well, if you think about the fact that Japanese words are frequently longer than English words, AND that Japanese counts sounds and not syllables, you can see how, "based purely on a 17-syllable counting method, a poet writing in English could easily slip in enough words for two haiku in Japanese” (quote from Grit, Grace, and Gold: Haiku Celebrating the Sports of Summer by Kit Pancoast Nagamura). If you're writing a poem using 17 English syllables, you are writing significantly more content than is in an authentic Japanese haiku.

(Also not all Japanese haiku are 17 sounds at all. It's really more of a guideline.)

Focusing on the 5-7-5 form leads to ignoring other strategies/common conventions of haiku, which personally, I think are more interesting! Two of the big ones are kigo, a season word, and kireji, a cutting word.

Kigo are words/phrases/images associated with a particular season, like snow for winter, or cherry blossoms for spring. In Japan, they actually publish reference books of kigo called saijiki, which is basically like a dictionary or almanac of kigo, describing the meaning, providing a list of related words, and some haiku that use that kigo. Using a a particular kigo both grounds the haiku in a particular time, but also alludes to other haiku that have used the same one.

Kireji is a thing that doesn't easily translate to English, but it's almost like a spoken piece of punctuation, separating the haiku into two parts/images that resonate with and add depth to each other. Some examples of kireji would be "ya", "keri", and "kana." Here's kireji in action in one of the most famous haiku:

古池や　蛙飛び込む　水の音 (Furu ike ya　kawazu tobikomu　mizu no oto) (The old pond — A frog jumps in The sound of the water.)

You can see the kireji at the end of the first line- 古池や literally translates to "old pond ya". The "ya" doesn't have linguistic meaning, but it denotes the separation between the two focuses of the haiku. First, we are picturing a pond. It's old, mature. The water is still. And then there's a frog! It's spring and he's fresh and new to the world! He jumps into the pond and goes "splash"! Wowie! When I say "cutting word", instead of say, a knife cutting, I like to imagine a film cut. The camera shows the pond, and then it cuts to the frog who jumps in.

English doesn't really have a version of this, at least not one that's spoken, but in English language haiku, people will frequently use a dash or an ellipses to fill the same role.

Format aside, there are also some conventions of the actual content, too. They frequently focus on nature, and are generally use direct language without metaphor. They use concrete images without judgement or analysis, inviting the reader to step into their shoes and imagine how they'd feel in the situation. It's not about describing how you feel, so much as it's about describing what made you feel.

Now, let's put it all together, looking at a haiku written Yosa Buson around 1760 (translated by Harold G. Henderson)

The piercing chill I feel: my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom, under my heel

We've got our kigo with "the piercing chill." We read that, and we imagine it's probably winter. It's cold, and the kind of cold wind that cuts through you. There's our kireji- this translation uses a colon to differentiate our two images: the piercing chill, and the poet stepping on his dead wife's comb. There's no descriptions of what the poet is feeling, but you can imagine stepping into his shoes. You can imagine the pain he's experiencing in that moment on your own.

"But tumblr user corvidcall!" I hear you say, "All the examples you've used so far are Japanese haiku that have been translated! Are you implying that it's impossible for a good haiku to be written in English?" NO!!!!! I love English haiku! Here's a good example, which won first place in the 2000 Henderson haiku contest, sponsored by the Haiku Society of America:

meteor shower . . . a gentle wave wets our sandals

When you read this one, can you imagine being in the poet's place? Do you feel the surprise as the tide comes in? Do you feel the summer-ness of the moment? Haiku are about describing things with the senses, and how you take in the world around you. In a way, it's like the poet is only setting a scene, which you inhabit and fill with meaning based on your own experiences. You and I are imagining different beaches, different waves, different people that make up the "our" it mentioned.

"Do I HAVE to include all these things when I write haiku? If I include all these things, does that mean my haiku will be good?" I mean, I don't know. What colors make up a good painting? What scenes make up a good play? It's a creative medium, and nobody can really tell you you can't experiment with form. Certainly not me! But I think it's important to know what the conventions of the form are, so you can appreciate good examples of it, and so you can know what you're actually experimenting with. And I mean... I'm not the poetry cops. But if you're not interested in engaging with the actual conventions and limitations of the form, then why are you even using that form?

I'll leave you with one more English language haiku, which is probably my favorite haiku ever. It was written by Tom Bierovic, and won first place at the 2021 Haiku Society of America Haiku Awards

a year at most . . . we pretend to watch the hummingbirds

Sources: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Further reading:

Forms in English Haiku by Keiko Imaoka Haiku: A Whole Lot More Than 5-7-5 by Jack How to Write a Bad Haiku by KrisL Haiku Are Not a Joke: A Plea from a Poet Who Has Had It Up to Here by Sandra Simpson Haiku Checklist by Katherine Raine

[how-the-feathers-have-fallen]

you're so fucking welcome to cry in my bathroom. you hear me?

steal the spare key from under the doormat or the key under the shoe rack or the key in the flower vase or the kitchen drawer or my favorite candle-

or steal it right out of my pocket.

(what do you mean why do i have so many house keys? ask this house why it has so many ghosts and why they keep leaving me)

break in at 3 am and make yourself at home

cry in my doorway if you can't make it any further

I'll get out of bed and carry you up. we'll sit on the floor of my tiny dilapidated bath stall, going through the box of shitty make-up I never bought and try to laugh

or throw plastic potted plants out the window onto the rusty pile of baby bikes I never rode if you need to scream and watch something shatter. I'd trade a million styrofoam sunflowers for your laughter

or we'll just curl up in a tight ball and lay in the ancient tub, turn on the shower and weep and wail and sob and shout till we're floating in a salt water ocean

who cares if the tile floor's cold. I've got a dozen fluffy robes hooked on the door. We'll build a soft nest to crash on and a fort to protect us. we'll find the old paperbacks I hid in the the laundry basket and read till the sun rises and sets and explodes.

who cares about those stupid lumps of porcelain plastic. they're ugly and I never wanted them. I think I'd rather have you break them than the world break you.

who cares if the tub's a little rickety and the water's cold and the boiler's old and loud and slow and we'll get soaked to the bone.

I'll hold you till you stop crying. and then I'll hold you after. when you need to come back from where you left to. back to my senior citizen tub in my decrepit water closet in the house you're welcome to. back to me and all my goddamn keys for the same empty lock.

[akkivee]

kuukou encourages and believes in jyushi’s strength while firmly believing that he’s a weak person. if kuukou is having a bit of a rough time forgiving himself for past mistakes while telling hitoya that he needs to move on from his past weighing him down in harmonious cooperation, then i hope with every fibre of my being that this is going to be something jyushi and hitoya are actively saving kuukou from (from himself lol)

[thegildedcentury]

Only The Future Crabs Can Judge Me: Disco Elysium and The Politics of Failure

[gingermintpepper]

Meet-Cute

Days that pass like sand,  blowing idly by  in the summer wind

he dreams of snakes,  long-fanged, like vexed bees, stinging at his scalp “Purify yourself,”  but he has not sinned

…he does not protest

The river is green-blue. Alive. He feels its heart beating beneath the slick rock of its banks.  Old river. Gorgeous thing. Bent into the shape of a shepherd’s crook, flowing but tame A nursery for fresh-born nymphs too young to stand the ocean’s tide-pulls  or maybe a reprieve from rough Summer’s overbearing heat 

He slips his robe from his shoulders. Unbinds the curls of his hair.  There is almost regret in his heart. Almost tragedy. Almost pain.  Each ritual bath is a spectre of the first, blood sinking deep into his flesh,  poison that will never stop burning. He empties his lungs of air and steps

Light-footed, like air down the forest path she goes a-walking

she’s dreamt of violets since summer’s first dawn a maiden possess’d

“Purify yourself,” that’s what father said

...This is how they meet

(Gold  like sun slicing through the clouds  like full-grown barley begging to be picked  She’s gold and slim and gorgeous  bathing in the river

The nymph is new  like speckled flowers blooming on a rose bush  she calls to be admired  and Evadne cannot resist her allure)

-Extracts from 'The Greenhouse Floor'.

[dotsz]

need to make art or im going to explode

[elizaellwrites]

Happy New Year Everyone!

We survived 2023!

For better or for worse,

With happy memories

And stressful times,

We move on to another season of

This game we call life.

However your 2023 went,

What comes next is an open door.

You can work towards your goals,

And whatever you’re hoping for.

Whether something big or small,

Public or personal, material or conceptual,

Every day is a new page to begin.

But always remember to take time for yourself.

One can’t abandon themself in

Pursuit of something else.

Despite crisis, goals, and daily stresses,

Be kind to yourself, even through the messes.

A new year is full of chances,

Even if that chance you take is yourself.

May this year of 2024 be kind to both you and I,

As we try to navigate the road ahead.

Here’s to the next chapter of our lives!

Who knows what plot-twists will be thrown our way,

But, hey, most of us are readers here anyway.

[creatediana]

Oh, man, am I obsessed with you— strawberry soda in a dream, I want to give your coffee cream, I want to toast to you and do a little movie scene. You don't know what I mean— I mutter to you all the time beneath my breath pathetically. I speak to you in reverie, I'm animated and sublime, and you are laughing, too. The corner of my view, the window into joy, you are— you're all things pleasant, interesting, worthwhile. I yammer, draw, and sing and explicate serene, bizarre things freely as they come. I ask you where you're from and where your home is, really, now— still here? You're one thrill-seeking man, experienced traveler. How can the universe I know allow you really to exist? In truth, you're made of mist and I am only on cloud nine. I decorate it like my room and spray the couches with perfume I really don't wear, but it's mine— and you, beloved guest, you know I am obsessed but you approve it. I'm no threat— I love, and I am right to love. I'm caught in the illusions of embarrassments comfortably set on trays for me to eat. You're simply just too sweet.

"Musings" - a poem written 5/18/2024

[revenantghost]

The pretty fanart of the ladies in space made me watch a Signalis let’s play

I don’t know what happened but that was fun

OH MAN, Signalis is a trip. I love it so, so much enough that I wrote fifty-something poems for it lmao and it's lived rent-free in my brain ever since. I haven't watched anything more recent on it because three pistols brainrot, but if you want to dig more into the horror space lesbians (because it is very confusing depending on your playthrough, for sure--and it only gets BETTER the deeper you dig), these two videos in particular are very good, very relaxing, and so well-made imo:

[thenearsightedmicroraptor]

People have been waxing up and down walls about this submarine thing and it feels stupid to add to the debate but I'm gonna do it anyway because I have a perspective on the whole thing that I want to elaborate on

I am celebrating. I recognize that it is morbid to celebrate a human being's death, and many people have been wringing their hands talking about how they don't support the idea of billionaires but they don't want them to die!

Do you know why I want billionaires to die?

It's because they have removed themselves from any other god damn consequense on Earth. There's nothing we can do! We can't take their money, it's in investments. We can't burn their house down, they have the money for every security measure on earth, and even if we could, they'll buy a new one and it won't even make a dent in their economy - nothing is irreplaceable. We can't lobby, we can't vote, at every corner, they're there, pumping more money into getting to keep their money. We can't jail them (prisons are backwards and should be abolished but that's another talk) and we can't take their stuff. We can't take their stuff!! That's the whole point! There is a reason the phrase "having more money than god" speaks to me so much. They have left the perils that us mortals still have to weasel through, they have made it to some fucking abstract, intouchable godhood where nothing we mere mortals can do will touch them. They have barred off every consequense they could possibly suffer, they have made sure we have no way to touch them.

The only lasting consequense left for these people is death. That's the only denominator that they haven't managed to buy their way out of - though they're trying, with advanced healthcare that only they can afford, and, y'know, having access to clean water and healthy food and living in places that aren't subsceptible to natural disasters. These people even could have bested the uncaring crushing weight of the ocean if they had been willing to pour the proper amount of money into it - their undoing was, in fact, to not use enough money to make a proper submersible!

So anyway.

These people have been killing, hoarding, abusing, and destroying countless lives on their way to be excempt from every consequense that could possibly touch them.

I am celebrating because I want billionaires to suffer consequenses for their actions. And these people have put themselves in a situation where the only lasting consequense they can suffer is death. It is the first and only stairstep. The world is the dog that they have taught not to growl as a warning, to not snap as a warning, to not raise its bristles as a warning. The world is the dog that is not allowed to show any warning signs. The world is - we are - the dog that has been given no choice but to suffer, quietly, unobstructively, and more and more and more, forever - our only other choice is to maul. And then get punished for it.

So when I see a bunch of billionaires pay obscene amounts of money to willingly be put into their billionaire buddy's homemade saw trap and it closes on them, I am going to fucking celebrate. When something that they cannot punish, such as the crusing weight of the North Atlantic Ocean, finally makes it so that just a few of these people are no longer intouchable? Then I am going to fucking celebrate. And I'll continue to celebrate for as long as it takes. Until they take the growling seriously and learn to stop pulling my fur.

[cato-of-blamesociety]

Recently did a live stream of my set rehearsal as I prepare for my upcoming event.

The set is 50 min long, the longest set I have ever attempted, and will be the first event I put together in over 8 years! Major and minor steps in the direction of living the dream-life I have imagined for years.

[the-crooked-library]

the thing about my writing is that you can tell i started as a poet, which sounds like a good thing in theory but in practice is annoying as shit

[aidsyouinthinking]

Poem: Change is subject

Hung from the rafters leering with body and smile, Familiar feared form speaks "We shall reconcile" "Cancerous bones feed foul blood, to skin that's now withered and pale, whether apple lands close with a thud, or rots from core forever stale." "The churning of meat makes mask of flesh, To hold the chaos; the anomaly within. Inside regurgitates outward fresh, As others have done; ouroboros, all kin." "Many's a broken mirror stands before me, myself and others lay claim to the shards, blame beams between peoples past plea, loving is not playing slivers like cards." The chatter does not relent and the teeth just grow, It loosely flops to the floor as if lacking bones. The squelchy thud leaves stringent silence in it's wake... Fetid flesh slides along itself, it crawls and groans.

"Painting, pictures, with perspective, Preventing pause, personal torpor, Priviness, you'll promise perfection. Pills to partake; pride die; pitifully poor." A writhing mass of angst bubbles beneath your feet. A murderous instinct desires this extinct. A repeated constant stomp; red mist tastes so sweet. A beaten burst bag drips down wood-boards now distinct. A ichor seeps through the grain it stain underneath A enemy now thee, the creaks tell you to cry.