So for some inexplicable reason I turned to haiku poetry as a way to calm my overly taut nerves in advance of the goose hunting opener here in Southern Ontario. For those unfamiliar with the concept, haiku is a traditional style of Japanese poetry that for North Americans roughly translates into three lines totaling 17 syllables in a 5/7/5 syllable style. While there is some debate over traditional haiku versus Westernized haiku, and so on (check the Wikipedia page for haiku if you want more on that) it is generally accepted that a 17 syllable poem in 5/7/5 style is a haiku. They don’t have to rhyme.
It was actually a pretty good idea, as reading the meditative, naturalistic stanzas of Issa and Basho put me in a serene state of mind. That was until I decided that while there are many classic hunting stories, and maybe even a couple of poems (or dirty limericks) about hunting, there was a real shortage of haiku poetry that paid tribute to the pursuit of hunting. So despite what my better judgment told me to do, I wrote a few haikus of my own. Some are beautiful if you ask me, but others are downright dumb.
A Preliminary Haiku of Apology
Now you shall have to
Suffer through these, that is if
You be brave enough.
Goose Season Opens
Goose season opens,
I sit alone at my desk.
Anticipating.
The First Flight
The first flight of birds
Sneaks up on me in the blind.
My nap is cut short.
Deer Hunting is Hard
Deer hunting is hard,
If you fail to grasp that a
Deer can outsmart you.
How Many Miles
For how many miles
Will the wingbeats be heard? I
Missed that grouse badly.
Cold Water
An old leaky boot
Makes the walk back to the truck
Unbearably long.
Floating on Air
A goose on approach
Floats in the air serenely
Before the guns bark.
A Haiku on False Hope
It is strange how the
Shooting continues after
The ducks have flown off.
I could go on like this for hours (because when you write terrible haikus, it really isn’t that hard to be ultra-productive) but I’m sure you’ve all had enough for now. I may concoct a few more of these crimes against poetry this weekend while I’m chasing Canada geese all over the Bruce Peninsula, and although you may not want to see them…I’ll commit them to the blogosphere upon my return.