Tuesday, June 19, 2012

bad tuesday haiku, for the coming solstice


the steady, rising
heat matches my steadily
rising ire; a cloud

of dust rises from
the patio, today's soft
breeze eliciting

more than the breezy
drafts on the table before
me manage to do.

are we doing the
right thing, attempting to teach
when summer beckons,

when every day is
better than any day last
winter?  when each of

us, so easily
distracted by the slightest
breeze, the merest hint

of motions not our
own, when even the sharpest
students dull, stricken

by june?  i study
a single sunflower camped
beneath a feeder,

the birds having kicked
its beginnings to the ground
weeks and weeks ago.

i should have chopped it
down last month, discarded its
unopened head and

long stem, mowed the spot
it's claimed and been done with it.
today, though, it nods

like a poem, less
useful than pretty, and the
heat seems to make it

yellower.  once in
a while, an essay startles
me with its perfect

prose lacking focus,
like a flower growing in
a surprising place.

today the sun and
heat intensify all of
it:  the sunflower,

the prose, the useless
endeavor before me on
the table, the hope

that rides along when
i grab the stack of essays
in spite of myself.


  1. That's not bad haiku;
    it's actually quite good.
    Don't sell yourself short.

    1. This reminds me of,
      back in the interweb's youth,
      a social listserv

      To which I subscribed.
      Once a year (or so) all thoughts
      had to be posted as haiku.

      Oh, good times they were!
      the search for the proper word
      or turn of a phrase.

  2. Thank you, Sawyer--and lovely verse yourself! I find that venting in verse provides a better release, sometimes, than the usual screaming and vodka.

  3. Lovely, and a perfect start to my day, as I will be teaching an accelerated/blended comp 1 class starting tonight at 5:30.

    First full paper due July 6, but my dropbox has six short assignments lying in wait (where the other two are is anyone's guess--8 students are registered).

  4. Wonderful verse, Greta! Thank you for sharing, and for thinking to mark the solstice. It is always a comfort to recognize once in a while that there are larger calendars at work than the academic one.

  5. Hurrah! Greta's back, and in a haiku-writing mood!

    Greta, I found myself envisioning a sunflower growing under the unusual birdfeeder that my grandparents had just outside their kitchen window (and which I still have, in storage -- no yard to put it in, alas). I don't think it ever happened, at least not that I saw (and the feeder at my last home with a yard was too shaded, and too pedestrian, to work in the vision), but it took me back to lovely, and happy, place nonetheless. Thank you!

    And greetings of the solstice to all! I'm not overly fond of heat, but early sunrises and late sunsets -- those I very much like.

  6. prose lacking focus,
    like a flower growing in
    a surprising place

    That is lovely. I am glad you posted this.

  7. I am now inspired to write one about my gradflake:

    Drooling dribbling dolt,
    Dumb as he can be, and more,
    Kick him in the rump.

    Hrm, they're not as good as yours, Greta!

    1. Froderick, "Kick him in the rump" is a good use of five syllables.

  8. Cassandra, thank you for sharing that with us. I'm glad that you found something in the verse that takes you back to a good place.

    And thanks, MA.


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