Close to Haiku

March April May lack of discipline

Assorted short forms from the past few months:

3/2 (old)

first edition
a pink crayon heart around
‘no matter how small’


3/3 (doll)

winter sun
the doll, the dust and the spider
on the sill

3/4 (death)

so many lilies
still I search
for just the right words

3/7 (fasting)

deep in prayer
the full fish moon
on an empty plate

3/13 for Susan

free of winter’s grasp
I wonder is she at peace
wandering the stars

3/18 (Sunday)

seventh day
a double sunrise shell rests
at my feet

3/21 (nature)

southern breeze
how softly winter passes
through the willows

3/25

view from the street corner
venus, jupiter and the moon
still hangin’ out

3/28 (growth)

rising
above her surroundings
the daffodil

3/29 (humor)

6 p.m.
all the neighborhood dogs imitate
the firehouse whistle

3/31

spring mist
only in the light
does the truth show

(romantic trip)

river sunset
an extra round
on the ferry

April 2012

4/3
Holy Tuesday
psalms whispered
in the rain

(blossoms)

this shoulder pain
still I reach for a clump
of cherry blossoms

4/6 (moon)

midday prayer
the weight
of the good Friday moon

4/11 (mountains)

lengthening days
the wildflowers brighter
on the mountaintop

4/12 (swings)

winter’s end
the freedom of the swings
long forgotten

4/17 (autumn cool)

this mind helpless
against its own trappings
autumn cool

4/21 (earth)

welcomed rain
as if they never existed
those cracks in the earth

4/27 (memorable trees)

outside the fence
mis-shapen apples from
a mis-shapen tree

May 2012

5/5 (moon)

sea and fog
all that is shared between
the moon and me

5/6 (intimacy)

easy silence
our summer night punctuated
by turning pages

summer heat turning into an endless walk...this dream

dressed in lotus
on a wooden pyre
float me out to sea
bathed in moonlight cast
by all the goddesses gone before

5/17 (voice)

after the mockingbird
unable
to find my voice

5/19 (tea)

morning tea
the words he knows are coming
stuck in her throat

5/20 (blue)

blue sky to grey
the cormorants come ashore
ahead of the storm

5/21 (open) for Hortensia

spring sunrise
through the open gate
a shadow

NaHaiWriMo...February Haiku

Official NaHaiWriMo ... one haiku for every day in February
Prompter: Michael Dylan Welch

2/1 (apples)
little bird
how many apples
from this one seed?

2/2 (boat)
midnight chill
how the wooden boats
echo

2/3 (catfish)
approaching anniversary
Namazu wreaks havoc
in their dreams

2/4 (dog)
our morning walk
my breath above hers
in the dog park

2/5 (eggs)
oma’s brush
upon the hollow Easter egg
again she asks the date

2/6 (frame)
Mount Desert
the sky too big to fit
in the frame

2/7 (grief)
twenty one springs
still I wonder if she waits
in the afterlife

2/8 (hat)
corner pub
the pattern of each tweed cap
as novel as the bald spot

2/9 (ice)
skidding down
a mischievous road
black ice

2/10 (jam)
snowfall
a morning full of toast
and cherry jam

2/11 (kitchen)
wet wool mittens
and soup on the stove
snow day

2/12 (laundry)
laundry day
not my color lipstick
on his dress shirt

2/13 (mountain)
56 years
still the moon rises
over the mountain

distant friends
what mountains lay beneath
your moon?

2/14 (nacho)
her valentine gift
found on eBay
a heart shaped nacho

2/15 (opera)
motherless spring
father introduces me to
Tristan und Isolde

2/16 (pool)
infinity pool
he weighs what it will take
to push her to the edge

infinity pool
suspended at the edge
fallen leaves

2/17 (queue)
queued
to shake the peas from their pods
thunder clouds

2/18 (rattle)
reconciliation ~
the muffled rattle
of her rosary

2/19 (sandals)
in moonlight at the water’s edge sandal-less

2/20 (talus)
up to her knees in scree
with each frost another crevice
in her face

2/21 (umbrella)
in the urn
three umbrellas and
a dead moth

2/22 (vent)
my incubus
the suffocating pressure
of the ventilator

2/23 (wig)
her bald head
finally brave enough
the toss the wigs

2/24 (any x)
summer camp
ripped from all my shorts
the XXL tags

2/25 (yellow)
cast on the floor
moonlight
and a yellow silk robe

2/26 (zip)
between L and M
his first flower to me
in a zip lock bag

2/27 (a bad haiku)
under the boardwalk
all the many broken shells
crying for band-aids

garden of roses
sunshine from the big blue sky
a stone in my shoe

2/28 e-gen haiku rewrite

original:
chambermaids soften
exceptional chime blushing
clamoring lame meek

rewrite:
her soft blush
as she changes the sheets
her chimes still chiming

2/29 (leap)
leap of faith
in the memorial garden
perennial seedlings

January NaHaiWriMo (It ain't just for February anymore)

NaHaiWriMo (National Haiku Writing Month) was started in February 2011 by Michael Dylan Welch as a challenge for poets to write one haiku a day during that month. It didn't take long for this experiment to explode to international proportions and it now runs all year long with guest prompters every month. I've been writing ku on the Facebook NaHaiWriMo page for the past year. This is what became of January:


January NaHaiWriMo Prompter: Annie Juhl

1/1 (beginnings)
first morning
not a hint of the future
in this cloudless sky

1 /2  (family/friends)
surgical prep
the warmth of my sister’s hand
as I wait

1/3  (local season)
arctic blast
33 scrabble points
for frigid

1/4  (fur/feathers)
bedtime stretch
the softness of the fur
between her claws

1/5  (here and now)
a visit from friends
last night’s snow
already melted

1/6  (daydream)
day moon
three kings leave gifts
in the barn

1/7 (haiku for Kat’s haibun)
With swelling clouds before them these Saturday afternoon drivers are all on their way  somewhere. The traffic crawls. My eyes are beguiled by the shape shifting sky. My mood changes with the music on the radio and my mind wanders. The work left behind. The friend whose mother is ill. The husbands and wives still in love and those who aren’t. Construction always along this same curve . . . what is it they are trying to fix?  Those who have passed and those still with us.  Streaming sunlight unfolds from the smallest bit of blue sky.   My mother always told me those rays were ushering souls into heaven  Still these dark clouds color my everything. And all these brake lights.

the hills ahead
might there be a clearing
for kite flying?

1/8 (limbs)
alone this winter
if only my arms could reach
the moon

1/9 (pirate/viking)
pirate’s wench
just another daydream
of a sexier me

1/10 (scent/smell)
in moonlight
the frozen koi pond absent
of its scent

1/11  (energy)
these fragile orchids
where do they find the energy
to reach for the sun?

1/12 (narrowing focus)
a sky full of moon
yet the moth still pokes
the nightlight

1/13 (13)
yesterday’s damaging winds
the boy I loved
when I was just thirteen

1/14 (twilight/dusk)
dusk unnoticed
dad’s sharp whistle
calls us home

1/15 (Annie’s photo of the lake in northern Norway)
reading Milton
between the lines I find
my own paradise

1/16 (ground/earth)
a murder of crows
where the oak stood
a scar in the earth

1/17 (music/song)
morning snow
the shape of windsong
through the trees

1/18 (flowers)
splitting iris bulbs
the sisters finally speak
to each other

1/19 (food)
snowy forecast
navel oranges the brightest
things in the room

1/20 (pain)
slack tide
awaiting the answer
that never comes

1/21 (soft)
mother’s touch
whispers of ‘edelweiss’
after my bad dream

1/22 (sixth sense)
before the first snow
squirrels frantic
to bury their nuts

1/23 (dragon)
these medicated nights
dreams of costumed dragons
on lily pads

1/24 (one line haiku)
new moon drawing the winter surf closer

1/25 (metaphor)
morning glory
dew
between the petals

1/26 (water)
tossing and turning
the tide
my only truth

1/27 (light and dark)
a swoop of pearl white
on this blackened canvas
waxing crescent

1/28 (fire)
fire breather
how quickly the air
is sucked from the room

1/29 (birth/death)
dropping
a handful of dirt
the orphan

1/30 (wind)
on this path
all to herself
wanton wind

1/31 (circles)

My first haiku on NaHaiWriMo from February 1, 2011:

winter storm warning
we count all the colors
in last spring's photos

And then came the first prompt from Michael (hands):

peace march
holding hands with people
I will never see again

We are now well into February, the official month for NaHaiWriMo. Check it out when you have a chance:
NaHaiWriMo on Facebook

thirtyfirst stone

along the river
where the flowers gather
this dream
of the moment when winter
loosens its stranglehold

thirtieth stone

words spinning
out of control
out of season
winter, having nothing left to say
exits through an open window

twentyninth stone

in a chipped cup
the last of the cocoa
forgotten
but for the sweetness
upon my unkissed lips

twentyeighth stone

the moment
between dawn and sunrise
a gift
unfurled from the arms of Gaia
her song an offering to the heavens


Happy Birthday Pamela. Thank you for encouraging me to try tanka. :)

twentyseventh stone

rereading Night
safe from the storm
my mind twisted
in the hands of the madman
who thought he could slaughter souls

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. God bless all those who were lost and all those who survived.

twentysixth stone

after tonight's
thunder and rain
all we have left
is the difference between
loving and being in love

twentyfifth stone

the birthday
of this indigo child
celebrated
in all the colors of the sunrise
and the songs of all the birds

twentyfourth stone

here and there
the sky so full of stars
to wish upon
but the new moon drawing
only this winter surf closer

twentythird stone

sleeping through
the morning fog
and waking
with it still surrounding me
at the news of another family death

twentysecond stone

new moon
in deep slumber
I dream
somewhere saving this universe
are dragons like these

Happy Chinese New Year!

twentyfirst stone

winter winds
the day's snow
now black ice
my mind travels down
a mischievous road

twentieth stone

bare branches
against the blue sky
silently
I forget for a moment
the coldness of the world

nineteenth stone

slack tide
the answer
that never comes
his discomfort with dilemmas
hanging in the air

eighteenth stone

in the peace
of the morning
my dreams
refusing to acknowledge
the authority of the rising sun

seventeenth stone

I slept
through the worst of it
that nightmare
when asked now if I remember
I can honestly say I do not

sixteenth stone

sleep
its sometimes wicked
sense of humor
allows slumber through the sublime
yet conscious absurdity

fifteenth stone

a friend spoke
of the peace in poetry
today
my body and soul resting
within the lines of Dylan

fourteenth stone

my heart
in the hands of a stranger
beats today
as steady as the path
of the river to the sea

thirteenth stone

cocoa and kirsch
shielding us
from the cold
we speak between scrabble turns
about the loss of our mothers

twelfth stone

driving rain
and the whistle of the train
at 5 a.m.
I snuggle deeper into the comfort
of knowing I've nowhere to go

eleventh stone

so many orchids
with their hot pink petals
and plump centers
when mother would have preferred
the african violets

tenth stone

today
the chill keeps me inside
again
the tune I no longer hear him hum
runs nonstop in my head

ninth stone

eyes on the skyline
waiting for the wolf moon
nature's art
begs me to reframe my world
in colors I've yet to imagine

eighth stone

on this path
where no one walks
the cold sky
so full of piercing jibberish
in the language of crows

seventh stone

17 days
into winter
the air so warm
through my closed eyes I see
butterflies in the garden

sixth stone

his tail fluffed
a small squirrel perched still
on a bare branch
I wonder would he if he could
complain about the cold

fifth stone

the warmth
of the won ton soup
and his hug
strong enough to melt away
the chill of last night's snow

fourth stone

sleeping through
the meteor shower
comfort in knowing
this eternal universe
will go on without me

third stone

its disguise
right from the start
of the new year
this blazing sun masking
the arctic blast

second stone

afternoon walk
the air cold and clear
fills my lungs
wandering around in my mind
thoughts of what's ahead

first stone

first morning
not a hint of what's to come
in this cloudless sky

I also shared this on NaHaiWriMo as 'new beginnings' was Annie's first prompt for the new year.

More about A River of Stones January 2012

http://www.writingourwayhome.com/p/river-jan-12.html