Original:
red-tail hawk
circles overhead --
soft prayer
New:
red-tail hawk
warm swirling wind --
desert sky
As I am typing this, I am no longer satisfied with the revision. How about this?
red-tail hawk
sharp tumbleweeds --
desert breeze
I'm not sure that this version works either, but it feels better as a haiku.
Anyway, here is one other poem from today's efforts. I have two versions of the same haiku. I wrote the first version, but it didn't feel right, so I did the second one, which feels better, but still not quite there.
deep canyon
bare rock trickle --
quiet falls
naked rocks
warm morning sun --
quiet falls
This photo was taken just before the sun reached the canyon floor -- you can see it on the far upper left of the photo. Just imagine the sun has already risen.
I might have to come back to this one, as well. Haiku is much easier when they come as an AHA! and they're fully formed on the first take.
The hard part of haiku for me is working with the internal tension of the images. I like the freedom to explore that comes with longer forms, which is why I decided to begin working with haiku. But the process sometimes feels like pulling teeth.
I'm sure I'll be back with this continuing adventure in self-torment. Please share any comments or insights you might have.
[Hawk image]
3 comments:
It's interesting how poetry or any art form for that matter shows how diverse we all are. There are those who read a poem or look at a painting and notice first how it's written or painted. Then there are those of us who simply are aware of how they speak to our soul, I loved your original.
Haiku is so intuitive, you know? Of course your rationality manipulates the process, but the final product has to somehow surpise and confuse and enlighten all at once. Such a helpful comment, right? lol
Anyway, one thing I'd practice looking for are the words, especially the adjectives, that don't snap-crackle-pop or add something essential to the significance/feeling of the poem. In your second version of the hawk poem, for example, you qualify the wind as "warm," but the last line says "desert": this is too much redundancy for a short poem, I think. In the last version, though, there's the hawk and tumbleweeds (heaven and earth) and then the mention of the breeze, which suggests movement (soaring and tumbling) of the bird and weeds. A powerful, coherent image, with real movement and revelation within the poem. I like it very much, though I'm not sure it goes deeper than the power of its image.
Of the other two, first and second version, the first seems incomparably better. "Bare rock trickle": what a vivid,crackling, laden phrase! "Deep" and "bare rock" seem to stir and build a feeling which the inadequate "quiet" then dissipates. Can you feel how you've created the feeling of quiet already with "deep" and the word "trickle" (it must be quiet for you to hear/notice it!): that adjective ought to take us another step, to a new "deeper" or more "bare" place.
I'm really enjoying your poetry. You have a knack for the clean, expressive image. Thank you for sharing the process with us.
Kai in NYC
Kai,
You make some great observations -- thanks. What you said about useless adjectives is spot on. I used tell students the same thing when I taught poetry workshops. How easy we forget.
Anyway, thanks for the suggestions. Sharing the process is new for me, but I like it.
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