Christopher James Rose
A View of Haiku
About five years ago, I posted a small story on my old blog (which has since been closed) about an encounter with a friend of mine that inspired me to write some poetry in the form of Haikus. At the time, I was a student at UNLV. Like most things that I posted on the Internet five years ago, I assumed that this story had been lost to me as well as the poetry that I had written. Lucky for me, Blogger had saved them in my account. Given that I think the story and the poems are both (at least somewhat) entertaining and humorous, I have decided that this is a good place to reproduce these items. I hope that those of you who will be reading this, will enjoy doing so…
This afternoon I was having lunch with a friend and he and I set out the intention to head to Barns and Noble a little later in the day. To my dismay, we looked out the window as we arrived at the Student Union (we were there to grab some lunch before embarking on our journey) it began to rain in a most profuse manner. The way you might think of sand pouring from the bottom of a sieve. This experience was not a total loss, as I decided to send a text message to another friend to let him know of our change of plans and thought it would be interesting to write the message as a Haiku rather than an average textual meandering. The following is what I sent:
The rain is pouring.
We go not to the bookstore.
Maybe a new day?
We go not to the bookstore.
Maybe a new day?
Being the person I am, getting started with writing a single Haiku lead me to compose a few more in an effort to distract myself from the disappointment of not going to a bookstore (You see, I had planned on purchasing Derren Brown’s newest book “Tricks of the Mind” in hardcover to show my support). The poems that follow are the result of boredom and an incessant need to count things.
I drink from my glass.
Yet the bottle runs empty.
I am still thirsty.
Yet the bottle runs empty.
I am still thirsty.
The monkey climbs trees,
he climbs far up to the top,
and thinks himself tall.
Cell phones are ringing,
I never cared for the noise,
please answer your phone.
Film students make way,
I get pushed with the camera,
Now people see me.
I felt my phone move,
Maybe I received a text,
No, I’m just crazy.
This last one has given me doubt regarding its originality, but it was nonetheless independently conceived. A friend once told me of a person who wrote a similar poem which purposely did not follow the pattern of a Haiku in an effort to make a very clever joke. I did not try to make that joke, but instead wrote the poem in a way that is self-referential. In closing:
A Haiku follows
The strict syllabic pattern
of five seven five.
The strict syllabic pattern
of five seven five.
