Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Chapter 2: Haiku

This evening, while sitting at my desk, enjoying a draw of ale, and Writing away at my Notepad, Mustardseed snatched my attention.  He was Full-Frog against the glass of his Dwelling, Fire-Alabaster belly forward, beckoning attention.

He expressed his growing curiosity in what I was doing with my Long Stick.  I said that I was Writing, and that it was a special Stick, a Tool.  He tilted in confusion at my sentence, and asked what one does when he Writes.  My Head swelled with explanations, and I voiced (after inadequate thought) that there are many things one could be doing when he Writes, and that I was in the process of creating ideas, and putting them down in a sort of memory, but rather than the usual Frog or Man memory, a memory that Stretched Through Time, reaching other Frogs and Men, perhaps inspiring them to Great Deeds, or Small But Good Deeds, or perhaps lightening their Load on this Lily Pad.

Mustardseed sat sedentary for a few moments, and Mote glided (she is quite the swimmer) to join us.  Mustardseed expressed interest in Attempting Writing, though he could not Hold the Stick.  Mote voiced, glancing around, that she would like to Try As Well.  

I told the frogs that I could Write for them, if they could Dictate to me what they would like to be Written.  Mustardseed agreed, raising his head and showing his belly.

He then voiced that he knew not how to Structure the Words to be Written, and that surely I spend entire nights debating Which Sounds go Where, and the Structure of my Texts, and Topics in general, and that the whole Endeavor seemed to be a tangled Bug Web of possibilities and Frustration.

To Direct the Overwhelmed Frog, I suggested a Haiku, which consists of a five-syllable line, followed by a seven-syllable, and completed by another five-syllable line.  I also suggested to the Frogs that they Write about what Interests them, and that Writing should come from the Heart, or somewhere Far Inside them, for it is hard to Know what one does not Contain.  Mote Said that she often Contains Crickets; they would be A Good Topic.

After adjusting his position on a rock, and unblinkingly gazing around, Mustardseed Announced his Haiku with Precision, and a Staccato Style, emphasized by his voluminous Frog Tongue:

Open lid I see- (by this he meant the lid to his Dwelling)
O, How should I become free?
A Frog torn by Love.

Up went my eyebrows, and I almost replied, when Mote blurted, with loud voice and forgotten tempo:

Open lid I see- 
Rain down endless crickets!


William Hardy said...


Anonymous said...

Is that you?
Have you gone mad?!!!

I like that when you talked about writing you didn't capitalize possibilities, but you did capitalize Frustration. Seems accurate.