Poem – Haiku



I measure the road
in distance you won’t travel.
This journey, still ours.

‘Friday’ was innocent
until I heard Mum’s boyfriend
use it for Mwenda.

The girl from Yorkshire
the way she said ‘puppeteer’
like the cries of baby dogs.

(2-year-old god-daughter on The Lion King)
Daddy lion fell down.
Bad lion wouldn’t hold his hand.
It was sad; I cried.

Independent thought
to us, like water to clay
keeps us re-workable.

Strictly speaking, these aren’t Haiku — proper Haikus are written as a celebration of nature or the seasons.

Below, I’ve included an earlier draft of one of these pieces that adhere more closely to the rules of a classic Haiku. I think the version I chose (4.)) is better — although it deviates from the 5-7-5 syllable rule — the meter of English poetry is dictated by the stresses in the word, and therefore syllabic poetry doesn’t always work as well.

Independent thought 
like water to clay it makes 
us re-workable

What do you think?

One thought on “Poem – Haiku

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