Monday, December 30, 2019

Haibun



DEAD

But not buried. It will come to life again, resurrected by some young techie who can perform miracles even with his eyes closed. In the meantime I am forced to use pen and paper, to scratch and scribble, to cross out and throw away. I am forced to concentrate. Concentrate  on my thoughts, my vision. Feel the shape of the pen, how it glides across paper, feel the movement of my hand as words leave my mind and are written down. Think of Austin, Dickens, the Bronte sisters, Byron, Shelley…all of those who had only pen and paper and achieved greatness.

winter dawn
the pines whisper words
I cannot hear
HAIBUN TODAY Dec. 2013

Sunday, December 22, 2019

Haiku: Christmas

Christmas Eve
behind the clouds
there is a shining

Christmas night
reflected puddles on
empty streets

Christmas tree
the glow and sparkle
of old ornaments

holiday cheer
a little eggnog
for the rum
unoublished
Gean
Lunch Break
Failed Haiku

Monday, December 16, 2019

Haibun


                                           SINGING CHRISTMAS MASS

The first Mass on Christmas at St. Anthony’s Church is at 6:00 a.m.  I am 13 years old and sing in the choir.  It is still dark when I arrive, and the church is not fully lighted, just the vestibule and the choir loft where we gather for a brief practice.  This first Mass and the last at noon will be high Masses.

Lights come on in the sanctuary, candles are lighted, the heat is turned on.  At such an early hour the church is only half filled.   Stained glass windows, dark when Mass begins, gradually brighten as the sun rises, and beams of color travel over pillars and pews.  The organ swells; our voices blend harmoniously; the fragrance of pine boughs, candles and incense float up to the choir loft as our voices float out over the congregation.

the sun in my eyes
singing “Gloria”
from memory

Contemporary Haibun Online

Thursday, December 12, 2019

Haiga



Haigaonline 
Sept. 2019

Tuesday, December 3, 2019

Haiku for Late Autumn




autumn leaves
a puddle mosaic
shifts

my tangerine
and his cigar
overlapping voices

December morning
wild turkeys strut
across the yard

Bottle Rockets
Kukai for Autumn
Stylus Poetry Journal

Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Thursday, November 21, 2019

Tanka for autumn



apple picking
each year with children
now just we two
I gather the fruit
as I gathered memories

the brilliance of fall
coupled with shorter days
gives me pause
this certainty I accept,
yet I long to dally

a new month
the advance of autumn
proceedes quickly
morning frost on bare trees
and sweaters out of mothballs


Lyrical Passion Poetry, 11/2017
Tanka Anthology, 2015
Presence, winter 2015

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Haibun


Heritage 
Familiar songs from a land not mine, yet linked by genes. Stories told. A time imagined. 

But for chance, I would have been a peasant like she was, living in scraggy hills, milking a goat, running over rocks in bare feet, so calloused they never bleed. There would be hungry days and starry nights with the wind for a companion. There would be fear and want and fleeting dreams waiting for my father to return. 

After the letter arrives there would be a bumpy ride in a patched-up cart to the train. 

With many a look back I would watch the dry, dusty land change into a crowded town with the smell of the sea where a ship waits in the harbor, belching smoke from its black stacks. 

I would travel in the stink of the ship’s lowest depths with days of anxiety, heat and cold, hunger and sleepless nights, to reach another shore where life would begin again. 

a soft spring day
the family comes together
for a funeral 

Contemporary Haibun Online

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

Haiga for Halloween

                                               

Daily Haiga

Sunday, October 27, 2019

Haiku for Autumn


old tree stump
the same woodpecker
whittling it down

tree gazing
the brightest shades of red
on poison ivy

non-stop rain
puddles connected
into a pond

Moonset
Gean
World Haiku Review

Friday, October 18, 2019

Haibun


In the Eye of the Beholder    

Bath time for my two year old daughter. Soapy and slippery. Giggling, she splashes water on me. I’m in an old robe, no makeup, my hair in curlers.  As I towel her dry, she puts her arms around me and says, “Mommy, you’re beautiful.”

weeds and more weeds–
aging in a crock
dandelion wine
World Haiku Review

Thursday, October 10, 2019

Haibun


                                                                           MEDITATION      


Grandpa's grape arbor. A shaded retreat for reading, for playing with my dolls or jacks, for a game of checkers with my sister, for helping Grandma shuck peas or for just sitting and doing nothing. I don't remember thinking anything when sitting under the arbor or lying on the grass watching clouds or bugs. Just doing nothing was the activity. 

                                                                          sitting za-zen
                                                                          the position I take
                                                                          is lying down

Failed Haiku Sept.2019 

Friday, October 4, 2019

Haiku Sequence

ARRIVAL IN GENEVA

gray dawn
the gray smell of coal smoke
against gray buildings;
a stranger in a foreign city–
will it ever be home?

exploring the streets
the quick French of the natives
carried in the wind;
tentatively I ask
for directions

cold wind down my neck–
my string bag bulges
with groceries;
at the end of the first day
a lighter step to my walk
Modern English Tanka


Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Haibun


                                                                           Walking the Path  

We walk the path on a breezy autumn day. It is peak season. The sky, an energetic blue, decorated with pillow clouds. Colors vibrant and many:  umber, russet, orange, burgundy, lemon yellow, tawny gold and colors for which I have no name.

                                                                      one step at a time
                                                                      our shadows merge
                                                                      into one

Leaves loosen their hold on trees and zip across the path, some grazing us as with a dry brush. Passing a copse of spruce the wind give voice.

                                                                    see Naples and die
                                                                    the meaning arrives
                                                                    with a rush of sound
 Presence

Thursday, September 19, 2019

Haiku Sequence


Swan Lake at Pocontico Hills

November shadows
beneath the lake's surface
slow moving bass

a thousand suns
rippling across the lake
into one

leaves settling
on the black water
without a ripple

a misted sun
reflected in the lake
still the cold
Stylus Poetry Journal

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Haibun



DREAMS

Often the same dream, unfolding contradictions.  In college, missing classes, wanting a car; out of college, no job, driving to class; graduating, quitting before the last year, late for class; riding the bus, walking fast, reading the want ads; feeling guilty , making plans for tomorrow, giving in to inertia and confusion.

early morning crows
not understanding
their anger or mine

Simply Haiku, Feb. 2009

Wednesday, September 4, 2019

Tanka Sequence


Happy Birthday
September 4, 1932—March 31, 2018

Falling

my dreamer’s dream
the fluff of fairy tales
and happy endings;
the fresh fragrance of you
like a May morning after rain

all that I feel
a lovely anguish
and a longing
relieved only by your kiss
and your arms encircling me

cheek touching cheek
your hand firm on my back
guides me as we dance;
our hearts falling 
into the same rhythm

Red Lights

Friday, August 30, 2019

Haibun


















STREET OF SHADOWS

A sunny morning in southern Spain.   In summer, there is no other kind of day. Already hot at nine o’clock. Still…a good day for exploring.  With our three young children we leave our hotel, located a short distance from the center of town. Vendors have set up their wares on the sidewalks.

         the sun in my eyes—
         that first squirt of juice
         from an orange

Leaning against a stone wall, a thin woman and two children.  The toddler, hair matted, eyes rheumy, staring at everyone and no one.  The baby, wrapped in a soiled blanket, lying on a straw mat near a box for shade. Garlic for sale, nothing more. 

                                    a burning wind
                                    funnels down an alley—
      grit in my shoes

Presence 2004


Thursday, August 22, 2019

Tanka


pleasure boats
bob on the outgoing tide
silhouetted
against a wide red sky
the toys we have

in my advanced years
a found peace in simple things
the summer dusk
slips into night with an ease
I long to emulate

Country & Abroad
Modern English Tanka

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Haiga


Chrysanthemum
Daily Haiga

Tuesday, August 6, 2019

Haibun



JOIE DE VIVRE  

“I want chocolate ice cream,” a child calls out to anyone with hearing distance. “Yes, you may have chocolate,” his mother says in a more modulated tone. She takes his hand firmly, yet gently. They step from the curb, the toddler hopping and skipping. Mom adjusts her pace to his. Once across, they continue their lopsided walk, a babbling child, a smiling mom.

                                                          soft breezes
                                                          cherry blossoms caught
                                                          in a small hand

Presence 

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Haiku for Summer



Japanese garden
from one path to another
nothing on my mind

afternoon stillness
my neighbor’s chimes
announces a breeze

pressing heat
in late afternoon
the fridge’s hum



Under the Basho
Daily Haiga
Presence



Saturday, July 27, 2019

Haibun


                              HOLDING                            


An old man, wearing a Yankee baseball cap, sits reading a newspaper. His face is tanned and cross-hatched with wrinkles like a well used leather glove. I can't begin to guess his age. He could be older than I or younger. 

drought cracked field
a dandelion root
holds on

Cattails

Saturday, July 20, 2019

Haiga for Summer




Simply Haiku
Haigaonline
Haigaonline

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Tanka Sequence


SEASONS



a twin baptism--
incense mingles
with lilacs;
the sweet and sharp blends
to a new fragrance   
a slow afternoon--
the cicadas' hum grows louder
in the pulsing heat
time stretches before me,
cool shadows just a dream   

true shape revealed
the trees bare--
there under a somber sky
I shed my robes alone
for no one's eyes but yours   



the first snow--
I hold out my tongue
to taste the cold
memories running pell-mell
back to childhood   
Modern Tanka Press


Saturday, July 6, 2019

Haibun



Garden Design 

An unknown crop of seedlings appears in the garden in autumn. Perhaps one of the flower seeds planted in spring which did not sprout. Perhaps weeds. I leave them alone.

They survive winter, grow quickly as soon as the days warm up, producing dark lavender flowers. What they are, I don't know. 

                                                                            garden book
                                                                            the perfect plan
                                                                            on page twenty-eight

Haibun Today

Sunday, June 30, 2019

Haiku for Summer



                                                                         strains of Vivaldi
                                                                         the heat of the day remains
                                                                         in the stone patio

                                                                          morning chores
                                                                          pushing a broom against
                                                                          the heavy air

                                                                          heat wave
                                                                          again I learn
                                                                          to slow down
       
Cattails
Presence
World Haiku Review

Saturday, June 22, 2019

Haibun




The Casbah


Exotic Morocco.  Heat and odors. Sweet flowers, spices, dust, overflowing sewers, diesel fumes. A desiccating hot wind that pulls moisture from one’s eyes.  Ship whistles, shouting voices, car horns, motors, riveting engines, music.  Before and behind, hidden and in plain view.

imagining
veils and tambourines
sounds of rock and roll

"Be your guide?"  A young boy tugs at us.  "Casbah.  Guaranteed fun."  We say no and take a taxi.  "I show you," he says, waiting for us at the entrance to the Casbah.  His own taxi, perhaps?  Or a magic carpet?  We relent in the presence of such mysterious powers and cleverness. 

The Casbah! A maze of shops, stalls and living quarters, as well as a mosque or two.  Thick with people. Women weaving in doorways, helped by rheumy eyed children.  Mostly silent as they work.  

                                   weaving our way up
                                        to the top of the Casbah-
                                    this desert het

Mohammed pushes us past some shops, pulls us into others.  "Buy, buy."  Whispered conferences in the corner with the owner.  We buy a leather hassock.  "Good bargain," we are assured. 

                              our twelve -year old guide
                              pushing aside hot crowds-
                              promises of mint tea


Cooler at the top.  A plaza with an open tea room and street performers.

toothless snake charmer                                                   pauses to grin at the crowd  
 the waiting cobra


coiled in a basket,
the cobra's eyes
not quite closed



The end of our tour..

our Moroccan guide
looking cool in his long robe
hand out for a tip

Raw Nerve