in search of poetry

i thought to myself
i did
i thought and the thought
was directed to my thinking
directed to my mental faculty
which allows me to think
and direct thoughts to my own musing

well i was thinking about doing something
related to poetry on this blog

here's the process
leading up to this moment

a few months ago i happened upon
a website called american poets
i went there and in the hither
thither and yonning
i managed to preserve a poem by robert frost
and send it to myself
i have preserved that transaction

tonite i went there
and i clicked around
and decided i would chose a poet and a poem
and write something
they have a pretty good archive
of poets and poems

so i came to the name of hayden carruth
a poet i have enjoyed over the years
and am grateful for an anthology he edited
in the 90's

but alas
all of his poems have been removed
and the message was this
which i present here as a poem

unfortunately
this poem has been removed
from our archives
at the insistence
of the copyright holder

one is left with a certain sense of
futility
i thought to myself
i should have the book around here somewhere
but alas it is elsewhere
yet i am committed to saying something about poetry
on this post

so i went back to the list of poets
who were born in the 1920's
and chose the inimitable jack kerouac

and he is represented by three haikus

i chose this one

Bird singing
in the dark
- rainy dawn

kerouac's sense of simplicity
of being true to the form as well as to
the traditional japanese requirements
of "nature" and the "seasons"
within the thematic substance
is indication of a gentler side

he is known more for his
wild meanderings across the continent
and writing in states of induced stupor
and producing some astounding work
nonetheless

so i was struck by this little poem
suspending everything else
about my life today
i can just be there
in the early morning rain
hearing a bird sing

perhaps if the bird could say something
she would sing

hungover poet
crawling to the toilet
cold in a strange place

that's my haiku
for jack kerouac

well then i thought
i'll check out the comments


baxter from USA wrote
"it is really short and boring"

Volage from Algeria wrote
"every interpretation of a litterary text is
inappropriate, stupide and kietsch"

i am at a loss as to where that leaves us
in our pursuit of literary concerns

i direct you to
silliman's blog

or

philosophical investigator


we could survive without poets
but it would be like eating food without flavor

like making love to a couch