Yo.
Haiku of the Day
Camera rolling
and- action! !Run hamster run!
flop. No, wait, new deal.
So I'm liking this Haiku of the Day thing, although by the time I've tramped around to eight classrooms and put up a new one, it gets to be a bit of a pain. Haikus I kind of adopted to get myself out of the whole square-on-unflinching-slap-in-the-face world view in my writing. I went four months without writing anything I liked; I still haven't really, I'm in a bit of a dry spell, so I'm trying new things. I have been published here, and in the Claremont Review, a "youth writing anthology" which gets published twice a year. I'm in a book! Yay. Made me very happy.
Last night, after I got out of school (I go to school seven hours a day in a building that's pretty much been assembled out of other buildings. Parts of it are dark green-and-light green [sagey-green] striped with tiles, other parts are oatmeal-ey bland stucco with navy blue trim, and on the front of the building there is what is reignedly called the "Monstrosity," a designer awning of bright-yellow corrugated steel that offers no protection from the wind, the neverending rain, the sunlight, or indeed itself. It cost more than the organs of half the student body would on the black market. I think if we ever had an earthquake it would bring the building down with it out of spite. Oh, and some obtuse and sick-minded person decided over the summer that the doors would all be repainted bright yellow or blue, and the spiral staircase down on wing bright red. I personally prefer to think they were trying to make some greater statement.) anyways, I got OUT of school and decided on a whim to tramp off and do my own thing for a couple of hours, instead of going home, arguing, doing homework.
I went for a walk in Bridgeman Park instead, down to the river where I never used to go, and sat right by the water. At this time of year it's mostly torrential, but I didn't even think of that until later when my mother nagged me about it. I just- sat, took some photos on the way there and then just sat, stared up, wrote a little. I always am writing a little. One of the things I wrote, as part of a slam poem (I wrote one brilliant slam, and have never written another I like, but I figure these things come and go) was about the future. I started to think, walking down to the river through the park with all the leaves falling off the trees, about the fact that in fifty years, the whole place would probably just be another strip mall, and then I went soemwhere warm and bought a cup of coffee and sat and thought and then I wandered off, walked back up the frigging great hill home and I just saw this vision- not the schizoid hallucinatory kind, the steeped mental picture- of a future, obviously not a real one, of a whole planet completely covered in concrete, except for a McDonalds and a Starbucks sitting opposite each other, with eight people left, getting ready for the noon rush.
Camera rolling
and- action! !Run hamster run!
flop. No, wait, new deal.
So I'm liking this Haiku of the Day thing, although by the time I've tramped around to eight classrooms and put up a new one, it gets to be a bit of a pain. Haikus I kind of adopted to get myself out of the whole square-on-unflinching-slap-in-the-face world view in my writing. I went four months without writing anything I liked; I still haven't really, I'm in a bit of a dry spell, so I'm trying new things. I have been published here, and in the Claremont Review, a "youth writing anthology" which gets published twice a year. I'm in a book! Yay. Made me very happy.
Last night, after I got out of school (I go to school seven hours a day in a building that's pretty much been assembled out of other buildings. Parts of it are dark green-and-light green [sagey-green] striped with tiles, other parts are oatmeal-ey bland stucco with navy blue trim, and on the front of the building there is what is reignedly called the "Monstrosity," a designer awning of bright-yellow corrugated steel that offers no protection from the wind, the neverending rain, the sunlight, or indeed itself. It cost more than the organs of half the student body would on the black market. I think if we ever had an earthquake it would bring the building down with it out of spite. Oh, and some obtuse and sick-minded person decided over the summer that the doors would all be repainted bright yellow or blue, and the spiral staircase down on wing bright red. I personally prefer to think they were trying to make some greater statement.) anyways, I got OUT of school and decided on a whim to tramp off and do my own thing for a couple of hours, instead of going home, arguing, doing homework.
I went for a walk in Bridgeman Park instead, down to the river where I never used to go, and sat right by the water. At this time of year it's mostly torrential, but I didn't even think of that until later when my mother nagged me about it. I just- sat, took some photos on the way there and then just sat, stared up, wrote a little. I always am writing a little. One of the things I wrote, as part of a slam poem (I wrote one brilliant slam, and have never written another I like, but I figure these things come and go) was about the future. I started to think, walking down to the river through the park with all the leaves falling off the trees, about the fact that in fifty years, the whole place would probably just be another strip mall, and then I went soemwhere warm and bought a cup of coffee and sat and thought and then I wandered off, walked back up the frigging great hill home and I just saw this vision- not the schizoid hallucinatory kind, the steeped mental picture- of a future, obviously not a real one, of a whole planet completely covered in concrete, except for a McDonalds and a Starbucks sitting opposite each other, with eight people left, getting ready for the noon rush.
posted by K. at 4:22 PM
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