Lizzie Murray
300 haiku
That is a lot of haiku
He reads every one
That is a lot of haiku
He reads every one
Never tell Uther
Haiku are never English
He already knows
Tiny absurd scenes
Are built with strict syllables
Loud laughs fill the room
Like origami
He folds his paper feelings
Into soft rhythms
Hearts, prisons, oceans
These recurring images
Accent his poems
He reflects on art
Why do we make art, he asks.
What is its purpose?
It’s tricky to tell
If he is sad or in love
Oh, it’s the same thing
Leaving BATS theatre
I am an inspired Sim
Inspired to write
You should see this show
It’s on until Saturday
Book your tickets here.
Haiku are never English
He already knows
Tiny absurd scenes
Are built with strict syllables
Loud laughs fill the room
Like origami
He folds his paper feelings
Into soft rhythms
Hearts, prisons, oceans
These recurring images
Accent his poems
He reflects on art
Why do we make art, he asks.
What is its purpose?
It’s tricky to tell
If he is sad or in love
Oh, it’s the same thing
Leaving BATS theatre
I am an inspired Sim
Inspired to write
You should see this show
It’s on until Saturday
Book your tickets here.