I met a German woman named Lynn on the dock shortly before leaving Nusfjord yesterday. She asked me about the iPad case I was using (I was on deck, checking email one last time just before Polar Bear sailed) and we talked about the various accessories available to those who’ve devoured the Apple Kool-Aid over the years. I mentioned that I also used the bluetooth keyboard (I’m using it now) when I was writing and that took our brief discussion into literature. Language segued into poetry which segued into haiku.
So while Polar Bear headed out of Trollfjord today I sat on the foredeck, pulled out my little moleskine journal (thanks, H) and dabbled. Bear in mind: while I love poetry, I’m a horrible and completely incompetent poet. “Roses are red, violets are blue” would be an epic were I to have penned such verse. And bear in mind, too, that I regard this blog as simply me puking on a keyboard. So what better than a pathetic attempt at poetry in a post of proverbial vomit?
What the hell?! I’m having fun on this trip; writing poetry is good discipline; and Trollfjord was a lovely, peaceful place with which quality haiku-writers could do wonders. And dammit: this here be my blog. So, you’ve been warned. Here goes:
downy flow in emerald wall
To or from heaven?
Journey to Trollfjord
Sky and earth, water and rock
paint your name on cliff?!
SoCal sprawl, decay,
Graffiti on Trollfjord cliff
(semi-obscure film reference…go with it)
Slate seas and gray skies
Mercury is falling fast
Gale warnings are up (or: Hatches are battened)