Another dream-wracked amnion

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 08 Mar 2008 14:29:00 GMT

cleft
deeply the seamounts
of Algaetopia
Q
So this is what you call a scifaiku, then? What’s the deal with the syllables, though?
A
You mean about how it isn’t a 5-7-5 count?
Q
Right, how is is supposed to be anything like a haiku if it comes out as 1-5-6?
A
It’s in English.
Q
Yeah, so?
A
Not Japanese. Where they count on, not the kind of syllables we have in English. To me, 17 English syllables feels a lot longer than your average Japanese haiku. (Archive)
Q
So you don’t care about the syllable count?
A
Actually, I do. In scifaiku and haiku, I usually write either three-line poems in twelve English syllables, or one-liners in nine syllables, to approximate the quantity in the Japanese verse.
Q
Okay, so it’s twelve syllables about science fiction then. Or nine.
A
Well, yes, but not exactly. The way I see the form, there are a few other features that I like to see in a scifaiku, besides the brevity and the subject matter.
Q
Namely…
A
A title. A pause between the two parts of the poem. Some sense of immediacy is nice, along with a tendency to suggest rather than state everything outright. And if you can work in an allusion to poetry or something else, that can be nice too, and similar to what was common practice among haiku and renga writers in Japan.
Q
You’ve got to be kidding. How can you get all that into twelve syllables, plus have it talk about some science fictional thing?
A
Well, I didn’t say it was going to be easy.
Q
I’ve got to work this out a little. Undersea mountains, a title that might have a pun in it, some vaguely sexual language, a break right there in the middle of the second line — and did you just make up that crazy name?
A
Hey, just Google it.
The first in a projected series of discussions on poetry.

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Dragon breath

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 08 Mar 2008 00:37:00 GMT

wise the scaly Worm that knows his Freud

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Ol' greenstalks

Posted by Rich Magahiz Fri, 07 Mar 2008 11:59:00 GMT

Always
Mama’s favorite.
Me, I didn’t care.

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Floruit

Posted by Rich Magahiz Thu, 06 Mar 2008 12:42:00 GMT

mounds
of plastic bags all that is known
of that race


Generation Ten ate all the steel


dust and scrub,

yet this can smells of
iridium

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Galaxies collide

Posted by Rich Magahiz Wed, 05 Mar 2008 06:23:00 GMT

under cedars
your lips soft and warm
and we stop
somewhere a flask endlessly bubbling


all done in a flash

twelve or thirteen
million years
the big barred spiral was uninsured


once again,

stars and silt, you are all
dead to us;
there is hydrogen, and there is hate

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Ninjutsu No Shoppingtown

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sun, 02 Mar 2008 23:33:00 GMT

the wall of the Food Court - stars march up


inside the nail salon: Clan Jade Claws

perched dragon style: the loading dock sleeps

like water they part, Big and Tall Men

escalator down; the swish of bamboo

this septum-pierced punk - you too must fall

naked the sun shines… a lithe dark shape

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Ten years of darkness

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sun, 02 Mar 2008 11:57:00 GMT

rings arching high we bank the dull core

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The Wolf-Rayet beauty

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 01 Mar 2008 01:34:00 GMT

Hot?
Sure,
I’d say
that one’s hot -
entering a room
walls buckle, the lights shift to blue,
sensitive meat seismometers trace out pressure waves,
and spacetime folds bend to accommodate the incarnate representation of ‘hot.’


Hats off to my friend Ian whose comment suggested the image.

Suhail al Muhlif: The brightest O-type star and one of only four WR stars bright enoughto have been observed spectroscopically in UV by COPERNICUS.

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(Untitled)

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 01 Mar 2008 01:15:00 GMT

¡toro nosh! lunch with social morays

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(Untitled)

Posted by Rich Magahiz Mon, 25 Feb 2008 18:17:00 GMT

no dance can tell
what those two-legs did…
larvacide!

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Drone

Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 23 Feb 2008 15:05:00 GMT

glimpsed through my camo
a jagged black wing
runs cold


nEUROn Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
By milkfish at 2008-02-23

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The big ones

Posted by Rich Magahiz Thu, 21 Feb 2008 19:35:00 GMT

Quick! Hide!
Under your desk,
go and make yourself small.
The grownups have gone nuts, dropping
F-bombs.

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