Poetry as a Metric

image One of the sticks I use to measure just how excellent I am being to myself is how often I compose in my head (and jot down!) little bits of poetry. Getting it together to actually post here as a Sohbet is A+ gold-star life management.

What poetry actually measures for me is life-saturation of moments of stillness, time with a bit of quiet in my head. If you’ve been following me on twitter or paying any attention here, you’ll know there hasn’t been much coming out of me creatively. This is probably the most stressed I’ve ever been in my life (six hundred fifty one bad sectors on my hard drive was just the capper – I’m thumb-typing this whole post on my phone – twitch).

I had a lovely moment of stillness last week – before the cold, wet Autumn weather hit. I got to sit by a pond, enjoy the amber leaves and smile at the duck feeding in front of me. For the first time in weeks a wee little haiku stirred in my brain, which I subsequently forgot as I didn’t write it down. It was grand too! When else do you get to use the phrase duck-butt in a haiku? A brilliant little composition about his back-end rippling out from the centre of his universe. Terribly witty and profound (at least I can claim as such without any actual evidence to contradict myself).

But alas! It is gone, dissipating back into the ethers it arose from. I did take this picture, so the moment’s not entirely lost. And I post it here now in the hopes it will inspire a haiku or poem from you (extra points for using “duck-butt”!)

So, just like that Wordless Sohbet a few Winters ago, let’s start a poetic conversation with an image rather than with words. I look forward to seeing where my moment takes you.


5 thoughts on “Poetry as a Metric

  1. dunk head, duck-butt up,
    finding tidbits in the dark
    wetness, prep for flight

    I not only see this as response to your challenge to express the photo, but maybe this is a metaphor for life. ;o)

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  2. Duck butt! Hmm, poetry as a metric for me…

    Poetry writing measures my reaching out in certain ways. Often in response, to sohbets, to performances, to poems in books, or poems I wrote years ago. Yearning, a certain level of fearlessness, perhaps loneliness. In response, it might be similar to Valerie’s still place, except almost always inspired by humans, rather than bigger than human peace.

    And/or poetry writing measures the resonance, within one of my caverns, of a phrase. Two words or stanzas. Caverns of my chest, cavern of my head, caverns of my hearts, caverns of my fist, cavern of my future.

    There’s bolt of lightning poetry writing as well. (Ani’s napkin poems.) And – magnetic poetry! On this blatent commercial note, I will conclude. ;o)

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    1. Awesome!!!

      hrm… trying to remember my original haiku (now that I’ve got a wee bit o space in my head)

      Autumn foliage
      concentric waves centre on
      duck butt universe

      TaDA! that wasn’t what I had first time, but I like it just about as much.

      So lets hear more duck butt haiku!

      Like

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