Dear Ms. Sanchez,
...or may I call you Sonia? I hope that you will call me Christina, if we shall ever have the pleasure to communicate.
I have long admired you quietly, but thought it time to take the risk and reach out to share.
I have heard your name for years among the greats. As a foolish, unwise lover of poetry, I did not always pay attention. One day, I was wandering in a bookstore and I saw your name. Attached to your name was the title of a book called Morning Haiku. Knowing that most haiku I have read lacked something I found in my own love of haiku, I proceeded with caution.
I flipped to the middle of the book. And I was blown.
For the first time in my life, I saw part of myself reflected in a living, breathing writer. Most writers who I admire are no longer on this earth. Have you read Clarice Lispector's Stream of Life? That explains a core I am still trying to scribe everyday. Anais Nin's House of Incest? Scary and beautiful language. Similar thoughts without the whole incest aspect. But I digress. This is about you.
...and what I have found in you, your writing. Your haiku. I was once told by a fellow writer that he did not care for my short pieces of writing. With this in mind, I've been scared to turn to the simplest form of thought. I thought to myself Who writes haiku these days, especially the way I write it, what I write about? Then I found Morning Haiku.
Your book taught me it was okay to be myself. I am a love poet. A haiku poet. Sometimes I am long and drawn out, but most of the time, I am flashes of light.
I turn to Morning Haiku when I need to be breathless, to study form and format for my own book of haiku, to share with a man who I may want to look into my soul.
Your words are water, sin, light, cupcakes, and kisses. I can dip into your writing and find a prayer to life every time.
Before I was able to buy the book, I would make trips through train and bus to the bookstore and read random pages from it. Afraid to fall in love with something I could not have, I did not read it cover to cover.
The day I was finally able to purchase a copy, I read the introduction, haikuography as I was slowly making my way to the register, and knew exactly what you were talking about:
from the moment i opened that book, and read the first haiku, i slid down onto the floor and cried, and was changed. i had found me.
I stopped for a moment and did just that.
Thank you for being the epitome of greatness.
P.S. Inspired by greatness and attached with offering & love:
Woman
i.
shy smile
tugs the hearts
of my lovers
ii.
curves dragging
eyes from door
to edges of seats
iii.
caramel sticky
skin wished
for cupped hands
iv.
laughter of bells
down to earth
bangle adorned wrists
v.
ease of lips
etch-a-sketched
in hearts instantly
vi.
warm fleshed out
rib cages heave
in tune to banter
vii.
coiled lock
& finger around
the base of your neck
viii.
balmy, loose
air of her comfortably
leans into your frame
ix.
i can see why she's perfection. i can nearly love her too...
if it wasn't for you.
Always,
Christina
---
This course is making me braver everyday. I would have never written something like this and then actually send it. I wanted to show you guys what I said. I like to share sometimes, sue me.
Here's to digging deep and facing myself in more ways than one.
...or may I call you Sonia? I hope that you will call me Christina, if we shall ever have the pleasure to communicate.
I have long admired you quietly, but thought it time to take the risk and reach out to share.
I have heard your name for years among the greats. As a foolish, unwise lover of poetry, I did not always pay attention. One day, I was wandering in a bookstore and I saw your name. Attached to your name was the title of a book called Morning Haiku. Knowing that most haiku I have read lacked something I found in my own love of haiku, I proceeded with caution.
I flipped to the middle of the book. And I was blown.
For the first time in my life, I saw part of myself reflected in a living, breathing writer. Most writers who I admire are no longer on this earth. Have you read Clarice Lispector's Stream of Life? That explains a core I am still trying to scribe everyday. Anais Nin's House of Incest? Scary and beautiful language. Similar thoughts without the whole incest aspect. But I digress. This is about you.
...and what I have found in you, your writing. Your haiku. I was once told by a fellow writer that he did not care for my short pieces of writing. With this in mind, I've been scared to turn to the simplest form of thought. I thought to myself Who writes haiku these days, especially the way I write it, what I write about? Then I found Morning Haiku.
Your book taught me it was okay to be myself. I am a love poet. A haiku poet. Sometimes I am long and drawn out, but most of the time, I am flashes of light.
I turn to Morning Haiku when I need to be breathless, to study form and format for my own book of haiku, to share with a man who I may want to look into my soul.
Your words are water, sin, light, cupcakes, and kisses. I can dip into your writing and find a prayer to life every time.
Before I was able to buy the book, I would make trips through train and bus to the bookstore and read random pages from it. Afraid to fall in love with something I could not have, I did not read it cover to cover.
The day I was finally able to purchase a copy, I read the introduction, haikuography as I was slowly making my way to the register, and knew exactly what you were talking about:
from the moment i opened that book, and read the first haiku, i slid down onto the floor and cried, and was changed. i had found me.
I stopped for a moment and did just that.
Thank you for being the epitome of greatness.
P.S. Inspired by greatness and attached with offering & love:
Woman
i.
shy smile
tugs the hearts
of my lovers
ii.
curves dragging
eyes from door
to edges of seats
iii.
caramel sticky
skin wished
for cupped hands
iv.
laughter of bells
down to earth
bangle adorned wrists
v.
ease of lips
etch-a-sketched
in hearts instantly
vi.
warm fleshed out
rib cages heave
in tune to banter
vii.
coiled lock
& finger around
the base of your neck
viii.
balmy, loose
air of her comfortably
leans into your frame
ix.
i can see why she's perfection. i can nearly love her too...
if it wasn't for you.
Always,
Christina
---
This course is making me braver everyday. I would have never written something like this and then actually send it. I wanted to show you guys what I said. I like to share sometimes, sue me.
Here's to digging deep and facing myself in more ways than one.
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