Been hibernating due to hay fever. *cough, cough*, sniff, sniff...and see my red eyes. We pulled up all the weeds from our front garden yesterday and I'm still all puffy-eyed. *sniff* I remember the days when I loved gardening.

Books I am carrying around the house with me:

Eileen Tabios's The Secret Lives of Punctuations, Vol. I

and

Ernesto Priego's Not Even Dogs.


Two Submission Calls picked up from
The Chatelaine's blog. Get cracking with those hay(na)ku :)

Reading
Ernesto's Not Even Dogs.

There's so much I owe to the hay(na)ku form, so many reasons I love this form. Like how Ernesto writes:


One
word leads
to an other:

and further on down:


Because,
yes, because,
it's all sequences,

Because,
indeed, we're
not only one

But
chains, because
we are chained,

and yet again:

Only
time understands,
like the passage

of
words, one
to an other.

A
poem is
more than this,

A
world in
a sand grain,

&
heaven in
a wild flower:




I have to think again of how I like the openness of the form, how meanings are revealed and yet veiled. Hay(na)ku continues to be a challenge, it continues to be a fascination. As Ernesto writes:

These
words are
more than tercets,

Not
only stanzas
but puzzle pieces,

There's so much to cherish and love about this book.