needles and tears
the only bright sparks of life
below rotting skylines
crime trampled so thin
it learns to grin like an x-ray
he rents a stool
where the cheap signals are loud
waiting hunched, bewildered
nothing is so tactful
as a stalker’s tactful hate
on stage she shows
a blonde aura of solemn marble,
a glazed closeness
lonely masks are hung up
she whispers to non-entities
their blood squirms –
her heart has small hands, clutching
silent assassins
he sees bloody particles
of the moon and howling beds
fuelled full of goodbyes,
all love tastes of questions –
he sees no remedy
he stands with the scattered rhythms
of a dying man’s heels
lurching from the bar
he greets the carcass of the night
under creeping stars
shadows excuse excuses
where night’s coiled to a cold trap
collar turned up,
her breath makes cryptic ghosts
as winter kissed her mouth
she whistles, unsuspecting
though stray dogs hear his fists clench
in puddles and piss
in sour struggles, they meet –
like the last dregs of sex
passers-by pass them by
in the trivial night
then look askance
where roses of powder-burns
draw circusing flies
###
This poem was written for Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #36, Haiku Noir, in which Jen of Blog It Or Lose It asked us to write a “haiku noir”, inspired by Raymond Chandler. This is another great prompt hosted by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai and all of the poems in the link-up can be read here. Although I wrote this as a direct response to the prompt I haven’t added it to the link-up since, having got carried away, I realise I went in a slightly different direction to “haiku that explores the darker parts of nature – nature at the dirty edges of humanity.” Ah well, you gotta go where the inspiration takes you, right 🙂
Sweet FA by Blake 
I was wondering why you weren’t at the linkup — but really, you ought to reconsider, because it’s brilliant. Take this part, for instance — “collar turned up, / her breath makes cryptic ghosts / as winter kissed her mouth” — a moment of beauty amid the horror. And I was really impressed with “stray dogs hear his fists clench”. Your “solo renga” makes me think of a stalker’s evening, condensed into a slide show. I’m trying to decide who “snuffed it” — can make a case for either of them. Anyway you look at it, though, it’s really very good.
Okey doke, it’s added to the link-up 🙂 One of my pet peeves is when people ride completely roughshod over a prompt. I mean, I like to see the prompt attacked from different angles but unless there’s a valid connection it just seems kind of rude, y’know?
It wasn’t until I’d finished writing and re-read the post that I noticed the emphasis on “the darker parts of nature” and thought “hmm pretty much skipped that,,,” But as long as the Guest Writer thinks it fits, that’s fine 😉
Glad you enjoyed it. The dog and the puddles I think came from reading an interesting post of Chèvrefeuille’s, Passing Through, where he talked about imagining the scene of the haiku.
I know what you mean. There are people who look at the prompt and say, “whatever”, and write things completely off-the-wall. This wasn’t completely about nature but I did see connections and it was done really well. 🙂
Oh I like how you managed to keep the narrative throughout still giving us those marvelous images.. I can easily understand that you got carried away..
Yes, the challenge was to hint at enough of a narrative to keep up the momentum. So, I’m pleased if it seems to have worked in that regard. Thanks, Bjorn.
You really got carried away with this haiku-noir idea. What a gorgeous renga-like poem you share here Blake
Yep, I certainly got carried away a little – coming from writing fiction to haiku, all Jen’s talk about Raymond Chandler started me thinking in terms of plot, I suppose 🙂