Monday, February 6, 2012

bad monday morning haiku


I.

an absence of snow,
but no gentler a winter:
first essays returned.


II.

returning spring--six
weeks hence, perennially
beyond reach. so mired

already, i reach
for the nearest comfort: food,
booze, reality

TV, more booze, sleep.
how did this happen? i watch
a single crocus

singularly push
its way upward, off and on,
winter's gentle bite

no match for gentler
creatures. yet i no longer
push. i maintain. i

am no crocus. pushed
past all sensitivity
but not past despair,

i think of my past
and ask again: how did this
happen? this place, this

meaninglessness, this
unrelenting winter, this
me without a spring.

10 comments:

  1. Greta, I am sorry you're having such a lousy term, but I'm not as sorry as I should be because it's causing you to produce such remarkable poetry. I love this. I really do.

    I have had similar terms. They come and go. I hope your next term is better.

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  2. Gretta sighs and writes
    Perfect Monday poetry!
    I can add nothing.

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  3. February is the cruelest month...

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  4. "me without a spring" is beautiful, but scary. Don't give up completely, Greta. There is a student or two out there, somewhere, whose mind is stirring because of you.

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  5. Beautiful and sad...thanks for sharing.

    Fab

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  6. Greta: thank you for the beautiful haiku. It expresses the emotion I wish I could see in my students' writing.

    I hope that "being rich" will help you make it to Spring. :)

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  7. This is so beautiful, Greta, I wish I'd been one of the easy-on-the-eyes men you didn't have as an undergraduate. Too bad that's behind us now.

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  8. Thank you, all. Irritated Isis, you've helped me accomplish one of my primary objectives in this world: to get people to write more haiku. I think that verse makes the world a better place.

    It has been a rough 12 months. Coming here helps. Writing about it helps.

    And Froderick, that may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.

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  9. Oh, dear, Greta. II is brilliant -- sort of like "The Wasteland," only bleaker. I do hope some sort of spring, actual and/or metaphorical, is on the horizon.

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