You can pretty much count renowned Southern poets on one hand.
Or at least I can.
And Southern poets who write in the ancient Japanese form, haiku, one finger.
Or at least I can.
(You know who you are.)
So, you can imagine my surprise when I was going through some old notes and found among them 14 poems under the category “Southern Haiku.”
I don’t know the author (s), but from the subjects and style, I’d say that he, she, or them are from around here. For example, one titled “Beauty” reads:
Naked in repose
Silvery silhouette girls
Adorn my mud flaps.
Brings a tear, don’t it?
Some deal with overcoming disappointment. Southerners are good at that.
“A New Moon”
Flashlights pierce darkness
No night crawlers to be found
Guess we’ll gig some frogs
And our love of the simple things.
“Exuberance”
Joyful, playful, bright
Trailer park girl rolls in puddle
Of old motor oil.
Some of the subjects reflect life’s tragedies, of which Southerners have many.
“Alone”
Seeking solitude
Carl’s ex-wife Tammy files for
Restraining order
And
“Remorse”
A painful sadness
Can’t fit big screen TV through
Double-wide’s front door
Or the passions we feel:
“Desire”
Dern, in that tube-top
You make me almost forget
That you’re my cousin
And my particular favorite:
“Gathering”
In early morning mist
Mama searches Circle K for
Moon Pies and Red Man
With these few verses, my whole opinion of Southern poetry and poets changed.
Why didn’t they teach me this in American Lit at Clarke County High School back in the 1950s?
“Deprived”
In Walmart toy aisle
Wailing boy wants rasslin’ doll
Mama whips his butt.
If they had taught that back then, I might have studied harder.
Harvey H. (Hardy) Jackson is Professor Emeritus of History at Jacksonville State University and a columnist for Alabama Living. He can be reached at hjackson@cableone.net.
