Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
I really like your style. Simplistic and layered together. Very nice.
Thanks, Gray. I wish I could claim some sort of power or dominion over the way these poems are presented. But more often than not, it seems subject dictates the form. In any case, there’s always an element of surprise for me as I go along, and in the final outcome. And there are other constraints: some are practical and physical, while others are most assuredly mental, due in part to haste and various limitations. I don’t know. Perhaps this is a way of saying my style, if such does indeed exist, is mostly organic in nature. Come to think of it, that’s probably the main reason I did so poorly in school.
See and feel what you mean!Deep melancholy of fate, hoping without hate...
Two frogs on a log, trading haiku on the subject of humankind....
I'm a tad thoick here, wiliam and of course you don't want to analyse only resonate. Still I have some trouble with the title, here. Perhaps I was expecting something else. The poem itself as ever is wonderfully resonant, but I can't connect to the jealous.Sorry. Perhaps I should hide my ignorance. I hate feeling that I've missed something that others can see so readily.
Elisabeth, the fact is, haiku doesn’t really need to be titled, and in poems this fleeting, finding the right title can be tricky business.And I’m sure there are those who would say this poem doesn’t follow the proper haiku form.Why “Jealousy”? In my mind, the moon is jealous, because it’s full and fair for such a short time, whereas the lines made by the light shining through the blinds on my wife’s face will quickly fade. Of course the title, and the poem, remain open to interpretation.I think it’s my “failure” as much as your “ignorance” that has allowed the word to come between us. And by that I mean, I don’t really believe in either.
I love the intensity of this one. And it's funny how you see the jealousy. I was interpretending it in a very other way. But that's just the fascinating thing about words......
So true. Each word is a door, with its own private stairway leading down to the sea — or up to the stars.... you choose!
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