Gogyohka, a Five Line Poem

The first snow perhaps the first freezing temperatures have gone. Until late November the salvia were blooming blue and Gerber daisies were full of warm colors.

Here’s a go at composing a gogyohka.


the autumn rose
dry leaves resist the wind
bruised seed cases
recall the bloom
recall the bud

© 03-12-20



Gogyohka (go-gee-yoh-kuh)

This poetic form was developed by Enta Kusakabe and means a “five-line poem” in Japanese. In that they may resemble the tanka or the cinquain.

The format is mainly five lines, however, four, or six lines are allowed and employs a free-verse style that seldom rhymes.

Each line is one breath in length.

These poems are usually untitled.

Haiku, 02-12-20

the cold cabin

winter drizzle —

small bitter grape


02-12-20

I keep notebooks for many of my interests. I like visiting notebooks and in this case I read some two year old poems. This one is new but I was in a similar spot back then. The wild grape is still producing but by this time of year the fruit is about the size of a peppercorn, 5 mm (0.20 in), or so. It is severely bitter, iron rations for critters.

Obscured Moon, hay(na)ku

Obscured Moon, hay(na)ku

eclipses —

light tricks

and the moon

© ’20

Notes Hay(na)ku

  • A poetic form created in 2003 by poet Eileen Tabios
  • Is a 3-line poem with one word in the first line, two words in the second, and three in the third
  • Rhyme is optional but rare
  • Multiple hay(na)ku that make a longer poem are fine
  • Also poets linking is easy and a fun activity

Examples

pickles

last longer

than cucumbers do

——-

pickles

taste better

than cucumbers too

Leaving the Winter Woods

Leaving the Winter Woods

leaving

the winter woods

light strikes all the way through

still darkness, shadows in plain sight —

fox barks

Cinquain

I copied Adelaide Crapsey, a twentieth-century poet, who wrote cinquain with 22 syllables in five lines as a 2, 4, 6, 8, and 2 pattern. 

Her poems feel similar to Japanese tanka, another five-line form, and share a designed focus on imagery and the natural world.

Failed Haiku

I wrote five concepts about writing haiku in my journal. I share one.

-5-

I desire to be a master haiku maker. Practice and reflection are my key activities. My audience is the proverbial studio dog, who is biased. My judgment may be suspect.  I must be diligent in artistic purpose, grasp the situation sufficiently to write, keep necessary  tools on hand, and possess a good work ethic.  

I write haiku in English and follow current modes of writing.

Failed haiku

Previously published poems are excoriated by many haiku publications.  Failed haiku are rejected poems.

I might consider a rejected haiku as rubbish. I do not.

If a haiku of mine is accepted I do not think it is a gem. It is not.

On the theme / prompt of “connections with others” this is my rejected ku:

unrequited itch —

quarantine   d

Failed haiku do not exist. This ku  above has no future. Editing wholesale is almost useless for me because I write to capture the moment, the image, the idea  before it’s gone.

Perhaps I can tweak the arrangement.

I plan to submit other haiku all around the poetry world.

A master is flexible.

A Northern Autumn, Cinquain

A Northern Autumn, Cinquain

milkweed 

bland carcasses — 

seeds have flown on the wind,

Monarchs  cruise in southern precincts —

instincts

c. Lemuel ’20

Instincts have to do with behaviors related to animals. Plants, bacteria and viruses exhibit tropisms or responses to the environment. In my imagination I can create a milkweed being no more attached to their seeds than a typical migratory butterfly would be to their eggs, Nemo and Marlin of “Finding Nemo” in the Great Barrier Reef notwithstanding.

I wrote this poem, as a cinquain, but for fun I adapted the form a little.

I relied upon Adelaide Crapsey, a twentieth-century poet who used a form of 22 syllables in five lines as a 2, 4, 6, 8, and 2 pattern. Some say her poems are similar to Japanese tanka, a five-line form, and share a designed focus on imagery and the natural world.