A Poetry Month Coloring Book Discovered!

While combing the stacks at one of my alternate comic book shopping locations I came across a coloring book, which is apparently based upon a popular children's title, from Arcana Publishing, A Cat Named Haiku. Written by Mark Poulton and illustrated by Dexter Weeks, the small (24 pages) book cost only $2.95, and as suggested by the genre, consists of simple wordless pictures of a cat, presumably named Haiku, engaged in silly cat-like activities.

At the time that I initially saw is coloring book, I was a little cash-strapped (validating buying so many comic books is difficult enough--explaining the purchase of a coloring book to my wife might not be so easy), so I did not purchase it, a decision I now regret.

The source material, with the same title, on which the coloring book is based chronicles Haiku's antics in the eponymous three line poetry--as a fan of the form (as well as its variations) I will be ordering have ordered from my local comic shop!

Haiku

Prattling ice pellets
pool on hushed windshield glass--
spring sleet soon wiped clean.

Poetry Found?

Do you see it? I didn't.

A celebration of National Poetry Month is in full swing at school. Between prepping the "release" of our Hallway Haiku Project signage after next week's Spring Break, and working on individual American sentences (that will later be combined into collaborative poems), one of the students in my Advanced Placement class made an interesting observation that further illustrated my premise for students that poetry really is everywhere. As trite as it may sound the exchange also created a "teachable moment," (groan!) during which some previously unknown (and truly "nice to know" in nature) information could be shared with my class.

As I circulated around the classroom offering assistance with syllable counting and image shaping, one lad prompted me to look carefully at the recently hung writing framework signage in the front of our classroom. The air was ripe with discussion and consideration of a variety of haiku formats, as well as "found poetry" (a form I explained to students--who had oddly never been exposed to it--by explaining about the 5-7-5 hand washing reminder I came across in the hospital men's room years ago), so it makes sense that the sharpest students would begin to apply their poetic mindset to their surroundings... and once again I was shown that the student quickly becomes the master.

Upon first glance at the aforementioned signage, I sincerely had little idea what I was intended to observe in the poster. "What does that sign look like?" the student prompted me once again.

Despite my having actually having been part of the committee that generated it, I had failed to notice (or clearly see) what my student had. Pointing to it again, he revealed, "It's got seventeen syllables like a haiku."

After congratulating the student for innately processing the syllable count (without clapping it) of he signage around him, I wondered aloud with the class whether or not that though the phrase "All evidence must be/supported with/details and analysis"  did indeed meet the strict syllable count requirement learned since kindergarten about what a haiku is... but was that enough to label it a haiku poem? Lacking a kigo or cutting word (or punctuation), it seemed clear that it was not a haiku in the strictest sense, but could it be presented as such with some syntax rearrangement or punctuation? The syllables (and words) could easily be set in a haiku 5-7-5 format, thusly:

All evidence must (5)
be supported with details (7)
and analysis. (5)

While a traditional image is absent, this found poem might better fit under the "heading" of a senyru rather than haiku (senryū is a Japanese form of short poetry similar to haiku in construction that tends to be about human foibles rather than nature, and are often cynical or darkly humorous than the more  serious haiku. Senryū also do not include a  cutting word, and do not generally include a kigo, or season word.) There are few things more cynically received than a new writing framework shared to a group of educators comfortable with an existing state.

Now, that's getting really Zen...

First Haiga of NPM

Backyard, yesterday afternoon (3/31/12).

Under fragile pine,
shrewd rabbit nibbles damp grass
one blade at a time.

It's National Poetry Month, so it's as good a time as nay to get back on the haiga (haiku + image, in my case, photographs). The wonderful thing about haiku is that whether what you generate is "good" or "bad" there is always something (a moment) "around" one to offer worthy inspiration. Take, for example, the rabbit my wife and (mostly) I have been keeping an eye on for the past day.

While it has been entertaining the past few days watching the rabbit lay about our backyard avoiding the dog, my wife reminds me that it might not be quite so "fun" when the rabbit and his pals are eating away at our small vegetable garden in a few months.

At worst, though, the experience and frustration of warding off hungry bunnies it will supply fodder for a series of haiga/haiku. At best, they'll (the poems) actually be "good."