"Are Haiku poems?"

[Will Dockery]

Meat Plow <***@yahoo.com> wrote:
>mat1t3 wrote:

<snip for brevity>

> > look at this:
>
> > the meat cat prance vs. the duck dunce dance.
>
> > aapc is in full swing again!
>
> > : )
>
> Did you miss us :)

Looks like you sure missed /us/, Meat... heh.

> >> Are the haiku still not poems in your book, or have you reconsidered?
>
> >Yes, Haiku are definitely poems, Karla, this was established at least
> >as far back as when Jack Kerouac helped give them credibility in
> >America:
>
> >http://www.fyreflyjar.net/jkhaiku.html
>
> >"...Knowing the basic characteristics of haiku, Kerouac's attraction
> >to this poetic form is clear. Using a short poem to present a simple
> >image or event allowed Kerouac to be spontaneous, to create his own
> >portrait using subtleties and direct thought. Kerouac revealed a true
> >spirituality in this one breath of haiku, like the continuous breath
> >in the jazz passages that attracted him. Using Kerouac's words from
> >The Dharma Bums, 'a real haiku's got to be as simple as porridge and
> >yet make you see the real thing.'  Just as he changed the standards of
> >prose, Jack Kerouac reworked the definition of the haiku form. He
> >believed that Western haiku need not be 17 syllables, just three short
> >lines that say a good deal, "free of poetic trickery" and "as airy and
> >graceful as a Vivaldi Pastorella." He used dashes for pauses in many
> >of the poems, like a tie in a measure of jazz music. Kerouac even
> >recorded an album of poetry and music called Blues and Haikus, on
> >which he read his haiku and had musicians play commentary interludes
> >of unrehearsed jazz between the readings."
>
> >I think the problem George had with your Haiku was that they were hard
> >to find in a search, being unlabelled as "poetry" in the posts, Karla.
> Nope, George wrote:  "And while I did find your three "haiku," you know I don't
>
> consider that sort off tossing-of to be poetry (regardless of source)."

--
"Shadowville Speedway" CD on Artemis Records:
http://www.artemisrecords.net/dockeryconley.html

[Will Dockery]

"ggamble" <ggasfly @lying-burnout.net> wrote:
>
> talentless mental case

Don't be so hard on yourself, ggamble, while your two most well-known
poems, "Fred The Dog" & "Regrets of the Nam", may not show very much
talent, they are at least endlessly entertaining, which, after all, if
the main purpose of poetry:

http://omgili.com/newsgroups/alt/arts/poetry/comments/e8d410a6-cf7d-4e13-8bdd-25e7d6164952v5g2000prmgooglegroupscom.html

"...For now, I am gone across a lonely, regretful brine,
To seek undaunted peacefulness for my troubled mind.
How despicable is a child man, to enhance wrath upon his quaker,
Knowing how frivolous he is upon his own chosen acre..." -Gary Gamble

A comedy classic!

"Bohgosity BumaskiL" <***@freenet.edmonton.ab.ca> wrote:
> Haiku are the only form with a rule of content; indicate season.
> I prefer them to be sentences, too, and you would not believe how
> sociopathological a senryu can get, so that rule of content is more
> important for me than grammar.
>
> This is not a hai-
> ku, because it fails to in-
> dicate a season.
> _______http://ecn.ab.ca/~brewhaha/Sound/Orchard_Farmer is a haiku.

--
Music & poetry of Will Dockery:
http://www.myspace.com/willdockery

[Will Dockery]

http://newsgroups.derkeiler.com/Archive/Rec/rec.arts.poems/2009-01/msg00223.html

Honeytrip Sestina

Beads of sweat driving on 280,
thinking about a lonesome wildflower.
Cross country for this honeytrip,
going down to incant a shadowmusic,
joined on stage by her fiddle,
swear to god I really miss her.

She knows that I've missed her,
she drives alone on highway 280.
Her grandfather also played fiddle,
and grew gov'ment wildflowers.
Let him play his shadowmusic,
as we recall the honeytrip.

Backpacked, hitchhiked to honeytrip,
waterfall spray did mist her,
we formed a band to play shadowmusic.
Down in Salem, on Highway 280,
saw the sign of Project Wildflower,
a contra agent but plays good fiddle.

In the night sirens played fiddle,
rustling wail of honey trip.
Behind her ear was a wildflower,
I knew some day I would miss her.
Looking for tea olive on 280,
to play a few hours of shadowmusic.

Down a moonlit mile wild shadowmusic,
Bibb Mill burned as he played fiddle.
Westbound down Highway 280,
like a hound for the honeytrip,
after all her lies I still missed her,
blowing kisses from a field of wildflowers.

Sang a melody like "Wildwood Flower",
she made it her own kind of shadowmusic.
When he stepped on stage we called him mister,
ghost of Sgt. Fury playing show fiddle.
The only crown prince of honey trip,
people parked and walked from 280.

Smell the wildflowers, surrounded by shadowmusic,
I miss her and her grandfather's fiddle.
Lonesome old honeytrip, in a hollow off 280.

-Will Dockery

--
Music & poetry of Will Dockery & Friends:
http://www.myspace.com/willdockery

[Peter J Ross]

In rec.arts.poems on Tue, 19 Oct 2010 07:40:28 -0700 (PDT), Will
Dockery <***@gmail.com> wrote:

<tripesnip>

One day, after you've learnt what a poem is, you might learn what a
sestina is.

But I doubt it. You don't want to learn, you only want to mark these
newsgroups as your territory by smearing your excrement on them.

--
PJR :-)
http://pjr.gotdns.org/

[Will Dockery]

Peter J Ross wrote:
>
> you might learn what a sestina is

I have it pretty well figured out after writing 5 or 6 of them last
year.

Honeytrip Sestina
>
> Beads of sweat driving on 280,
> thinking about a lonesome wildflower.
> Cross country for this honeytrip,
> going down to incant a shadowmusic,
> joined on stage by her fiddle,
> swear to god I really miss her.
>
> She knows that I've missed her,
> she drives alone on highway 280.
> Her grandfather also played fiddle,
> and grew gov'ment wildflowers.
> Let him play his shadowmusic,
> as we recall the honeytrip.
>
> Backpacked, hitchhiked to honeytrip,
> waterfall spray did mist her,
> we formed a band to play shadowmusic.
> Down in Salem, on Highway 280,
> saw the sign of Project Wildflower,
> a contra agent but plays good fiddle.
>
> In the night sirens played fiddle,
> rustling wail of honey trip.
> Behind her ear was a wildflower,
> I knew some day I would miss her.
> Looking for tea olive on 280,
> to play a few hours of shadowmusic.
>
> Down a moonlit mile wild shadowmusic,
> Bibb Mill burned as he played fiddle.
> Westbound down Highway 280,
> like a hound for the honeytrip,
> after all her lies I still missed her,
> blowing kisses from a field of wildflowers.
>
> Sang a melody like "Wildwood Flower",
> she made it her own kind of shadowmusic.
> When he stepped on stage we called him mister,
> ghost of Sgt. Fury playing show fiddle.
> The only crown prince of honey trip,
> people parked and walked from 280.
>
> Smell the wildflowers, surrounded by shadowmusic,
> I miss her and her grandfather's fiddle.
> Lonesome old honeytrip, in a hollow off 280.
>
> -Will Dockery

--
Poetry & Music of Will Dockery & Friends:
http://www.myspace.com/willdockery