Travel Writing: Rainy Season 8 ̊N 79 ̊W

soaring guitars & screaming cicadas, I edit

songs of randomness, solos of electrifying memories

I’m not a memory-catcher, a/c engages

blowing cool air inside, silhouetted tanagers chirp

sorry, bud, the watermelon’s dried up, fluorescent

lights as I clean dishes, electric gloss of everything

illuminated by buildings, shadow outside is long

and lean, shadow toppling over the ground level

eventually this tower will crumble, reverberating

haiku, one after the other, recorded and transposed

ditties in the key of G, I still worry about my ears

but I will rock and not lose my hearing

honestly, I didn’t get wet or even get close

close to feeling the warm rain, reclined on the balcony

reclining by potted plants, the overcast evening

light mixing with sunset, bewitched buildings

I recorded a song, it’s not good on my computer

it’s excellent in my head, soaring and symphonic

& deep & eternal, like the sands of the middle east

where Jacob wrestled angles, and the ocean was far

ocean is far, but still I see it between buildings

still glimpse of ocean is really murmuring

the sea is really churning under the weight of the moon

moon & earth & sun, in a steady lullaby

rocking back & forth, for my entire life

subject to the great weight of the stars

---

Guidelines for productive haiku writing:

- Find some rain

- Get cold wind whipping against your feet

- Make sure the rain pours down, hard

- Make sure the rain is so, so loud, that you hear it like music

- There’s this beautiful moment, writing in the rain, where you feel like you have a room, and you’re outside

- And in this outside room, sitting on the cement floor, barefoot, the wind picks up and you need to keep your notebook to your lap

- Write in ink, even though it’s rainy

- And hold down your notebook, writing in ink, and look up every now and then

- Let the rain drops be dynamic static, the screen you stare at when you’re dumbfounded and working

- Give yourself 30 minutes, and then another 30 minutes, on your cellphone timer

- Grab a cappuccino

- Don’t answer texts

- Resist the urge to call your friends, artists, who can also be found searching for a breeze at 2:30

- And write, and take care of your wrist, don’t push down too hard

- Also, if you haven’t already, keep a haiku book next to you

- Ideally one that has made your heart stop

- Find poetry that makes your heart stop

- Maybe hear it first as a song, and then find out that your favorite musician is also an author

- But do this research beforehand, so you don’t miss the storm

- Be ready for that storm

- Don’t forget- barefoot is better

- Write for that hour

- Sigh

- Write

- 1 page, and you’re done for now

- Hydrate

Elio Icaza is a poet, designer, and interactive language artist represented by Ars Poetica. Book him for an event and follow him on Instagram.

Rainy Season 8 ̊N 79 ̊W, Elio Icaza Milson, ©2019

Images created with Google Maps