One Saturday a month, I have the privilege of moderating a critique session with a small-but-tasteful group of writers. I don’t think any of us would object to being called “nerds.” We take our work seriously, and when we are writing, we always know it.
I mean, we never compose anything unintentionally.
At our March meeting, Krista presented four poems. Three were lovely, serious pieces and the third was just for fun. We talked about her clear grasp of meter and rhyme, nothing awkward or forced-sounding.
Isaac mentioned that writing poetry is hard. Some people think all they need is some words that rhyme.
Then he acknowledged that he had no room to complain about others’ poetry: “And meanwhile, I can’t even attempt it unless it would be haiku.”
His brother Daniel’s eyes narrowed. Lips moving, Daniel appeared to count on his fingers while we all stared. “I think–” he said at last, “–I think what you just said actually is a haiku.”
If you don’t recall Haiku, it doesn’t have to rhyme or have any particular beat pattern. It consists simply of three lines, each with a certain number of syllables:
General hubbub while we all tried to reconstruct what Isaac had said. Sure enough, it fit the pattern:
“And meanwhile, I can’t
even attempt it unless
it would be haiku.”
It’s as if Isaac had been playing tennis… and made a hole-in-one.
“I can’t believe you’re that good,” I told him.
Neither could he.
And it made the day for all of us.
Thanks for indulging me in this glimpse into the nerdly life,