The pain-shroud spilled over her all, day and night… blackening her dreams, drowning her living in the bitter-salt that had to be wept, if cleansing was to be had. Hurt cries scarred her heart’s skin, blemished the veil that separated her mind’s eye from the world, and named her existence eternally dark. “I’m walled in a door-less pit that overflows with black, black, pitch-black stagnation that’s penumbra over my Self,” she said. “No flesh, no bone, no soul could survive this. How could I!”
in mazes, create—
Process Note: I’ve linked this poem to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads’ “Micro Poetry” prompt. Since the word “Micro” seemed to be glaring at the prose section of my poem, I was only going to link the haiku bit of this haibun. Then I got curious about how one might count the lines that compose a haibun (my poetry forms knowledge is rather limited). I read this article on Haibun Today, and it shed little light onto my line division issue. So I visited the word jungle (Wikipedia) and found this wee bit: “Prose poetry is poetry without line breaks in accordance to paragraph structure as opposed to stanza.”
Out of deliciously selfish convenience (I really wanted to share the haibun *cough*), I interpreted the quote to mean that there aren’t any real line breaks in the paragraphs of prose poetry. If this is true (and I have no idea if it is), then “In Mazes, Create” contains only four lines. Micro and the Muse are aiming some seriously suspicious looks my way; and somehow, I doubt that I can fault them for it. What do you think, my Wicked Luvs?
blacked out from Johanna Basford’s
Secret Garden: an Inky Treasure Hunt and Coloring Book