five hundred poems
in just fifty nine short days || my heart on paper
Tonight I wrote my 500th haiku. Five hundred! That’s 8,500 syllables I’ve counted using my fingertips, tally marks, little dots. I started on a random Friday in early April, suddenly overcome with the urge to try this form as a way of processing my days. I told myself that they didn’t need to be good. I’ve let them be bad, let myself be a beginner. I’ve started to see my surroundings with a new lens, started to see that
the world’s my notebook
each moment, inspiration
each day, a new page
I’m so proud of myself for writing and sharing. I publish some here, but some I’ve shared by writing them on coasters, on receipts, on tiny little cards. I’ve given them to loved ones, but I’ve even given them to strangers I’ve written about. I think life is too short not to share when someone inspires you to make art about them, even if it’s just a 17-syllable string of words.
But that’s not without some fear of how they might be received. I’ve tucked a little piece of myself in each one. You might find my cognition, sorrow, gratitude, or love. And that’s deeply vulnerable, giving myself away. But I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I’m not about to hide it now.
I’ll continue my haiku writing practice for as long as it serves me. I hope that’s forever. To those of you who have peppered me with words of encouragement—thank you. You’ve helped keep me going on the days when I’ve thought myself silly or stupid for writing.
Below are haiku I had not yet published, written between my very first day, April 5th, and today, June 2nd. The poems under balanced branches, panhandle, and central park were written in sequence and are meant to be read as such. Otherwise, the poems are not chronological.
humans
muses have no say
in what is spun about them
does this do justice?
-
breaking down your walls
proud is an understatement
thank you for trying1
-
i watch your neck’s pulse
persistent, vulnerable
just like your sweet heart
-
you’ve more agency
here than i do. it’s hard to
relinquish control
-
i missed your laughter
the way it reverberates
lifting all spirits2
phenomena
crumbling evokes loss,
destruction. but not melting!
that evokes a swoon
-
landmines: excitement
a challenge to overcome
no mention of fear3
-
i first feel the nerves
in my stomach, then my hands
radiating out
finale
do you think this tale
still grows toward the climax, or
is this denouement?
-
if the world crumbled
with whom would you want to share
your final moments?
-
just as we are born
we too must all come to die
we are all just dew4
-
from water i came
thus perhaps it’s to water
that i shall return5
-
i’ll take one last breath
and follow this shadowed path
to oblivion
feline
halo and nimbus
a monday palette cleanser
a much needed joy6
-
activation sounds
it’s like you’re powering up
the moment of touch
-
a thin red line weaves
around the edge, visible
only with backlight7
-
curled up on my desk
my hand drifts to caress you
searching for respite
-
your gentle purring
heals my muscles and my bones
i’m convinced of this
aching
such heaviness here
a somber fog descended
coating us in grief
-
today has felt like
three days long. i came tuesday
and left on thursday8
-
it is all starting
to feel like meaninglessness
as i move forward
-
bleeding myself dry
all saudade all the time
i can’t take much more9
-
each day a little
easier to breathe, the ache
slowly dissolving
-
i can’t stop humming
“casimir pulaski day”
it touches me so10
run
shoes pound the pavement
striking with consistency
tempo is maintained
-
petals drifted down
their sweet scent filling the air
as i ran and ran11
remember
sf’s baggage claim
reminds me of our youth. of
high school long distance
-
memories were real
because we had felt them, though
they’re manufactured
-
i said, “i want to
remember this.” you replied,
“so remember it.”
-
through joy or sorrow
i hope we remember that
it is all worth it
balanced branches
laughing and crying
from finding a fallen branch
and restoring it
-
perhaps i am meant
to steward this path towards
the witch’s lair
telegraphing
you stare, not since you
don’t have words, but since you know
you cannot say them
-
we held each other
nodding imperceptibly
aligned on the course
avian
black-crowned night heron
balancing upon the lake
made me freeze in place
-
your red eyes piercing
as you stand firm, yellow feet
splayed, gripping the log12
stuck
hear the subtle hum
of electricity here
never just silence
-
my motivation
has leaked away, and now i
come to a standstill
-
my indecision
keeps me stuck in place, in life
and at traffic lights
-
what the fuck is up
with my lack of clarity?
why is this so hard?
panhandle
panhandle moments
young, volleyball. old, tai chi
kisses on a bench
-
bench kisses sound sweet
but those ones were ravenous
tongues reach, mouths agape13
bars
“paper crane” cocktail
the perfect complement to
“japanese death poems”14
-
this popcorn chicken
yuzukoshō, lemon
is rocking my world15
-
umami bitters
just one of my favorite things
too bad it’s so rare
-
brings me joy to see
another bar reading too
a kindred spirit16
-
i’m feeling snug here
with maxwell, christian, tj
all milling about17
-
why not stay open?
you could get whisked away by
the whim of the night
central park
when i had asked if
we could sit down, i guess i
could have specified
-
i meant in the grass
surrounded by flower blooms
but the bench was nice
-
shoulder to shoulder
watching the park goers like
a live performance
To C—I mean it.
To C—I’m 99% sure I wrote “laugh” instead of “laughter” when I gave this to you on a receipt, so congrats, you have an erroneous 4-7-5 haiku in your possession.
To I—I hope your booked your flight to Bosnia. A forcing function!
Inspired by Banzan’s death poem, from Japanese Death Poems:
Farewell—
I pass as all things do
dew on the grass
As this book notes, “dew is one of the images signifying transience in Japanese poetry.”
As of now, I’d like my ashes cast in the ocean, when my time comes.
To D—More Monday cat content, please.
Observe a cat’s ear, and you’ll see what I mean.
This and the previous are the only haiku I wrote on the day of Pixar’s layoffs.
“Saudade” pronounced with 3 syllables (soh-dah-zhuh) rather than 2 (sow-dad).
I composed this while literally running, using a voice memo to capture it. It was hilarious and embarrassing to listen to later, because I was absolutely out of breath.
Spotted in Golden Gate Park, along with a great blue heron a few moments later.
It was honestly kind of revolting, but it was hard to look away.
“Poems” pronounced with 1 syllable (pohms) rather than 2 (poe-ehms). This one’s a stretch, I know.
“Yuzukoshō” pronounced with 5 syllables (the ō counts for 2 in the Japanese pronunciation) rather than 4.
To F—Thank you for being a kind stranger, who received my random haiku with graciousness, instead of thinking I was weird (I was) or assuming I was trying to hit on you (I wasn’t). I hope you read Four Thousand Weeks, and I hope we bump into each other one day to discuss.
A silly play on words, since the bar that I visited these 3 gents at is called The Snug.
So inspired by you. Keep going. ❤️