Creative Process

I'm quickly discovering the magic of revision. Here is the first draft of a haiku I'm trying to "make work." Please bear in mind that I chose to this particular form because I want the concentration in the tone, even though the subject matter is not the norm.
Bones beneath the skin
Shimmers as ice on the like
Warm as the cabbin

It didn't have the coherency I wanted, so I move some words around.
Warm as the cabbin
Shimmering ice on a lake
Bones beneath the skin

I wanted to incorporate more of the weather inspired, seasonal elements so I tried to make the bones less predominate.
Warmth from the cabbin
Like bones hovering beneath
Shimmers on the lake

Still, I'm not satisfied with my current draft. I'm looking for words to secure the content but ease the subject matter into the message. The idea is convey an image of the light reflecting off the ice in the same way light bounces off bones hovering beneath the skin. Imagine a mother's hands. That's a lot to accomplish, I know, but poetry is about creation. I want this message in this form. Now I need the best words to convey it.

Open Mouth Insert Foot

At some point everybody makes a comment that acquires blank stares and inappropriate giggles. Sometimes it takes a long time to laugh about certain incidents. One time, I was enjoying my afternoon at a friend's horse facility and her farrier was present. David, the farrier, was in his early forties, and I couldn't help but notice he wasn't wearing a ring. I ask "David, you're a young guy. If you don't mind my asking, are you married?"
He responds in an exaggerated drawl, "Ohhhh no. I went through that rodeo once and I ain't ever doin' it again."
I took this to mean he had experienced a rather unpleasant divorce. I muster all my tact to approach the subject, and respond with, "What? Was she a bitch?" At this point my darling friend pipes up with a bewildered look upon her face. She replies to my question on his behalf "No, Ashley, she's dead. she died of a brain tumor." I began to cry. I cried inconsolably for hours, stuttering apologies. They both laughed and assured me the situation wasn't as bad as it sounded. Jesse passed roughly ten years prior to my inserting both size ten point five shoes into my mouth. I learned a valuable lesson that day: keep your mouth shut, and never ask personal questions until you know someone for more than five minutes.

The Beginning of a Stanza Piece

Unholy Occurrence

It was more than a loss of life endured
The self lets go the spirit follows
Across the bridge are footsteps heard
Fear like blood washed the Hollows

Women, children, not one spared
Civil war commands men to garner
A village dissolved in the same nightmare
Terrorized by a spirit darner


And then I drew a blank. A long one. The legend of the Headless Horseman is a favorite story of mine, and I wished to retell it in my own words, in my own way. The historic setting is perfect, I feel, for the abab cdcd etc. form. However, this version of the tale is more closely related to the 1999 Tim Burton film than the 1820 story by Washington Irving. The first two lines refers to the fact that it was a spiritual force that drove the horseman to act. In the film, a woman possessing his skull controlled the murders, though the town felt they were at random. The idea of random killings, by a spirit, raises the town into an uproar. The men watch for the big black horse in shifts and are ready to attack. In the legend, the crossing of the bridge is the gateway of the unknown; the hessian soldier (in Irving's story) turns into a skeleton upon crossing. I'm looking to complete the tale but the two stanzas almost feel complete to me. Suggestions are most appreciated.

My Favorite Couplet

The Comfort of Nite

The day was beautiful, the twilight is long
off in the distance, I hear a bird's song.

He's saying goodnight as the light passes by,
and darkness approaches to cover the sky.

But the cover of night is no reason for woe,
for it filters out trouble from the world down below.

Night seems to bring comfort and peace,
and turmoil and tension just seem to cease.

Away from the world, in the comfort of home,
our problems drift off, our minds free to roam.

You close your eyes and relax just a bit,
all at once the puzzles seem to fit.

The answers to problems that once were not found
are dancing like asters in the air all around,

for darkness slips by and a new day is here,
promising hope and a day of new cheer.

So darkness you see has a mystical power-
from a troubled seed it brings a bright flower.

So don't look to twilight with fright or despair,
for night plus the dawn brings love, hope and care.
~Bob Cray

The words of this couplet, in the order they follow one another, invokes a swell of emotions. The way the words rhyme at the end of each stanza flow together effortlessly. A clear message is conveyed, and punctuation is used as a subtle guide, not a glaring map. I feel if the lines were combined, it would lose most of its message; it would look to simple and feel too complex. While this poem certainly will not appeal to many readers, the use of form is clearly, undeniably, well done. Bob Cray intentionally put his "best words in their best order."

Basho's Haiku

Evening darkens. Hunched
On a withered bough, a crow.
Autumn in the air.

It amazes me how in thirteen words, everything that needs saying is, simply, said. As a young and inexperienced writer, it seems difficult to stop at a specific point, and it seems impossible to put the content into words that fit a specific pattern. This poem contains images that don't need an explanation of colors or textures. All is embodied in the chosen words. The words and lines work together as a team to create one magnificent piece. After reading this I am left with an image of a wooded skyline with a hint of red lingering in the blackness, and a bird resting on a ceder branch surrounded by hundreds of other tree's orange leaves.

Coincidence? Who knows?

"Is it still bad luck if a black cat crosses your path, but you hit it with a car? Don't you think hitting it would negate the bad?"* I was asked these questions in a tone that demanded serious attention. I was in absolute disbelief when I found myself pondering them. Even if one isn't superstitious, s/he still knows the rhymes and sayings. To name a few: step on a crack, you'll break your mother's back, find a penny, pick it up, and all day you'll have good luck, and break a mirror, and you'll suffer seven years of bad luck. Some people seem to find legitimate truth to these sayings, based on their personal experiences. Another topic from that category I ponder frequently is karma. Fortunately, I am at a point in my life where I do "good" things because I want to. Unfortunately, this a recent development. Previously, it seemed as though every time I went out of my way to be kind, I found myself in a positive situation. If I chose to do nothing, nothing ever happened. To this day, no matter how I've been wronged, I find myself punished for seeking revenge. These events could be complete coincidence. My question is, could statistical probability be considered proof of a fact? Either way, the thought keeps me from keying my ex's car.

*This same person wants to know, "If a turtle loses it's shell, is it naked or homeless?" A dear friend of mine called him an idiot for it, and supplied the answer "niether. It's dead."

They

I know I am not the first person to question this particular anomaly in the English language, and it very nearly pains me to know I will not be the last. All the same, I spend many nights awake in bed contemplating the fact that no, I do not know what they say. I want to know who the heck they are, where they came from, and what they want. What if "They" was once a legitimate name? What if this "They" was so influential, his/her name forever embedded itself into our language? Maybe the law enforcement was once referred to as the "they." It could have been a slang term for royal or religious leaders. Regardless of where the phrase and the word itself originated, it has come to represent a positive and negative entity. Most people, very nearly all people use the phrase "you know what they say" without even realizing they said it! They is a collective term so internalized, we do not even care who these things are. What if they are not human or plant? And how would we know?