Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I Recall my First Haiku...

Remember Grade 7? Awkwardness squared. I was a pipsqueak of a giant. Puberty decided my eyebrows should grow first. Anyway, it occurs to me now that my first 17 syllable poem was in fact, a dirge. Odd. No wonder I often caught the school therapist staring at me.  Anyway, cue the air-violins:

Untitled
by d.b. stewart
Funeral today
Dead man in the cool coffin?
Nicotine addict.

What can I say? There were a lot of smokers in my family. A lot. Inside. With the windows closed. 18 hours a day. Every day. For the 19 years I lived there. Did I mention every day? Yes indeed, I'm bitter sometimes.

Anyway, I encourage you to post your very first poem. It's vaguely cathartic.

2 comments:

Chelle said...

Oh my God. Are you a sucker for punishment or what? Don't you get enough horrible poetry on a daily basis at your job? I know you've seen some of mine... and had to like- mark it. *shudder*

Keith has s constant stream of excellent Haikus on Twitter- do you follow him? @keetcanada.

I have my poetry diary novel thingy from when I was 14. I'll see if there is something suitable.

Chelle said...

Um... apparently I was a horribly creepy stalker when I was fourteen, so basically I can only post this one because it doesn't include people's names. I'm sure half the town would be thrilled to know that they have been immortalized in my wannabe jaded, dramatic book of poems, with gripping words and phrases such as, "Mist, dreams, ocean of life, pain, agony, reality , solitude, deepening river of emotional wrought and ChAoS...."

Heeeeere we gooOOoo......

As I stare at this empty page,
I don't know what to think.

My feelings are going through
my head so fast
That I can hardly write them
down. *important poetic pause*

It's kind of confusing
IF you think about it *IF, you guys. If you don't- no worries*
all your feelings that is *just to be clear*

There are so many of them
And so many empty pages to fill
with them

I've decided to just doodle on it.

-Michelle ~Age 14
(I always included my age, because I was pretty sure someone would find my book of genius poems one day and be shocked that such dazzling poetry could be writen by a mere teenager.

You know I did doodle on it, too. I decorated the following page with every "feelings" word that I could think of; nobody told me that "revenge" isn't a feeling.

Oh God. I'm going to have teenagers so soon.

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