Haiku on the Run

running-is-fun-when-its-overIn my previous blog I confessed my recent madness in starting to run.

From the tone of the blog you may conclude I don’t enjoy it much. You would be right.

In addition to the physical pain and misery caused by running there is also the boredom, which I didn’t even mention in my previous blog.

It is necessary to do something to distract yourself from the tedium of painfully propelling one foot in front of the other around an inherently dull landscape that you have run around many times before whilst nursing a nagging worry that your heart and lungs may explode at any moment.

Of course I listen to music. As well as helping to ease the boredom, loud rock music also helps to drown out the sound of my puffing, panting and wheezing, which tends to be at a volume that would put a steam train to shame.

But still my brain needs some activity to distract itself.

And so it was one day that I started to think up haiku as I was running.

This came as something of a surprised to me.

In as much as I have any writing skills, they have never lent themselves to poetry. I don’t even understand most poetry beyond the level of the simple limerick.

In fact , I only have the vaguest notion of what a haiku even is, so where the idea came from I have no idea.

Funny what the brain comes up with under duress.

It is therefore with some trepidation that I share my haiku with you. I welcome kudos for trying and constructive criticism to help me get it right should the madness ever descend again.

On the whole my haiku speak of my ‘love’ of running:

Running hurts my legs
Tightens my chest; hard to breathe
Not having fun yet

Went running today
Warm autumnal sun shining
Still not loving it

Went running today
And for reasons unknowable
I decided to Haiku

The day this mad and unexpected urge came upon me happened to be Remembrance Sunday – maybe it was something about the melancholy of the day that turned me poetic. Anyway, I also came up with this one as I passed near the war memorial:

Remembrance Sunday
Poppy wreaths laid; heads bowed low
We will remember

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About Darrel Kirby

I am what I am.
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