Four Weeks of Ku-ish-ness

(Some with NaHaiWriMo prompts, some with only prompts from my mind)

2/26 closet
last spring’s rain ...
pulling its scent
from the back of the closet

2/27 garage
the scent of ganja
from beneath the garage door ...
summer breeze

2/28 kitchen
even in my dreams mother in the kitchen

3/1 gathering
recovery dance ...
piping plovers the first to return
to the beach

3/2 children’s book
slower now
at page turning yet still
this call of the wild

3/7 status
nervous stomach -
again the sea breaches
the dunes

3/8 line
morning commute -
the North Jersey Coast Line
whistles through the snow

3/10 erosion
battered soul ...
each new storm
remaps the coast

3/12
repeating
Our Fathers and Hail Marys
unable to sleep
I pray to those I have faith
will save me someday

3.14 pi
infinite boredom ...
his lecture on pi
irrational to me

3/17 sound
just before the alarm the deep silence of dawn

3/19
craving bodhi ...
I listen to the surfer talk
about why he surfs

3/19 shoes
waiting for Spring
the flip-flops lined up
by the door

3/21 learning
the clay in my hands shaped and reshaped

3/22
half here
half there
this half moon

3/23 glass
teaching me
the beauty of stillness ...
glass lake

3/26 key
cold night -
still one key on the ring
to an unknown lock

3/27 moon
worm moon -
is he planting seeds
in some other field

NaHaiWriMo 14 through 25

2/14 harbor:
morning fog ...
nothing but big fish tales
in the harbor cafe

2/15 orange:
all this snow filled day orange blossom dreams

beneath this roof
heavy with snow ...
orange blossom dreams

2/16 red:
his harsh words -
across the evening sky
every shade of red

2/17 black:
from my homeland -
a white envelope
with a black ribbon

2/18 green:
whatever the season
more shades of green
than I can dream

2/19 blue:
one brown, one blue ...
her see only me
until the bone

2/20 white:
sudden noise -
a flash of white under
his wing

2/21 turquoise:
summer of love ...
The turquoise of her toe ring
nestled in sand

2/22 living room:
winter of 64 -
in front of every TV the kids
sing yeah, yeah, yeah

2/23 bedroom:
black hole -
the lullaby of late night
television

2/24 bathroom:
the door locked
and the mirror steaming abstracts -
cabin fever

2/25 dining room:
family dinner
beneath his five o’clock shadow -
cross examination

NaHaiWriMo 13

high noon -
the noose swings in the shadow
of the gallows tree

NaHaiWriMo 12

winter fog
between two rivers
the road home

NaHaiWriMo 11

Pine Barrens -
the path of the storm mapped
in fallen trees

NaHaiWriMo 10

the first
to till the garden -
sparrows

NaHaiWriMo 9

not quite a glacier
but melting just the same -
my heart

NaHaiWriMo 8

snowy pines ...
mine the only footfall
in the forest

NaHaiWriMo 7

river mist …
beneath her pearls a hint
of milk glass breast

NaHaiWriMo 6

leaving no hint
of his footsteps on rice paper -
the Shaolin monk

(a nod to Kwai Change Caine)

NaHaiWriMo 5

my father's garden -
eggplant seedlings tucked
into the warm earth

National Haiku Writing Month

I'm going to try to post my February daily haiku on my blog as well as on the FB NaHaiWriMo page. Here are the first few:

Day 1 prompt: pasta
winter's chill -
warmth gathered around a bowl
of pasta

Day 2 prompt: eggs
chill wind -
the branches stripped of all
but this empty nest

Day 3 prompt: cheese
despite the holes
in his story -
oh that Swiss accent

Day 4 prompt: spice
winter sunrise ...
my dreams painted in colors
of rare spices

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