Haiku Buckaroo
There’s a competition going on over at My Mommy’s Place. Pretty much you just write a haiku or two or a few or a slew (I can keep going…haiku is actually not the form of poetry in which I typically excel, but I’ll spare you) and then it’s judged over at My Mommy’s Place. So I was exchanging an email with Jenn in Holland and I mentioned how popular (for a blog that is lucky to have 20 readers a day, it was popular, ok?) my skinpee post was and how I should enter a haiku about it for Haiku Buckaroo. Well, Jenn supported that idea so I decided to try it out.
Furthermore, after I followed this post up with some pictures from Scotland, I friend of mine asked me (hi MAK) if I was no longer feeling depressed. Well, sorry to dissapoint, but I’m still pretty depressed and severely anxious now that I’ve found out a bit more about the success rate of students who go to university after they pass the language program (almost all of them fail their first year because they can’t understand the professors…either they talk too fast for non native Dutch speakers or they have strong dialects or a combination of both. I mean, I figured it would be hard but we were basically told on Wednesday that we would fail, despite all the work we’ve done over the past 9 months). So yeah, I’m depressed and anxious and struggling internally more than I care to try to explain. Don’t get me wrong. I love my Cabana Boy and I feel lucky to be experiencing life as an expatriate. I can’t live without my boyfriend. He is the love of my life and I’ll never give up on us and our future together. But at the same time I ‘m seeing all my other dreams slide through my fingers like sand. Everything I was working towards in the United States as far as education and a career…I see it fading a little more every week and that’s tearing me apart. I know I’m not always letting you all know how I feel about those sorts of things, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. So I tried haikus about that as well.
Gazing at the sky
Trapped behind these thick brick walls
Built in my own mind
••••
My tongue is twisted
The right words are in my mind
My throat holds them in
••••
Hot tears every time
I think of the little hands
That I can’t hold now
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