Basho by the Pond.
Pausing,
He turns to listen:
The sound
Of one hand
Clapping.
—-
Posts Tagged ‘Haiku’
Nocturne ( words are pictures)
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged being aware, darkness, Haiku, lightning, night, Poetry, summer, thunderstorm, zen on August 13, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Report from a British summer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Basho, Britain, children, gardens, Haiku, summer, sun, zen on July 30, 2012| 2 Comments »
I
We are adrift in sunshine and birdsong.
The green fields turning golden hay.
Grandchildren like chirping sparrows.
Fresh breeze from the hills.
Nothing to report,
Lost in time and space……
II
Basho by the pond.
—
Pausing,
He turns to listen:
The sound
Of one hand
Clapping.
—
(Some more words scribbled down from my diary. It’s been a busy summer. Just recently missed a great flurry of strong words. It’s so important to write when those times arise, as the fuel that fires the flow is soon consumed..)
Solstice: words revolve a standing sun
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged flora, Guru Purnima, Haiku, insignificance, joy, moon, rain, Solstice, summer, waking on July 30, 2012| 2 Comments »
Solstice: words revolve a standing sun.
I
On Momentous Occassions.
Not to be missed.
A once-in-a-lifetime experience!
This breath.
II
The Pleasurable Joy of Insignificance.
A seed on the breeze
Safe floating
Away from reach.
So small
In the hands
Of the world.
So safe
Amongst the cloak
of stars.
So small
So safe
No threat.
Floating free
Insignificant joy
Sparkle of bliss.
III
Two weeks of rain.
Finally, the moon!
An embarrassed smile.
IV
Hemlock and mallow.
The dead revived,
Stretch thick green limbs.
Cat’s ear and wild privet.
The living exhale
To fuel the world.
Yarrow and blood poppy.
The skylark’s song:
Blue and vast.
The apple, the cherry,
Yet small and hard,
Dreaming of sweetness.
Elder, oh elder!
A circumference of passion,
Honey cream and pensive.
The thick warm air
Slow, turning.
The world wants not,
Waits not,
Curls and moves:
A sleeping cat.
V
When I look into your eyes,
Moon of Guru Purnima:
Silver ripples across my heart.
VI
Steady rain.
No moon tonight,
Except the disc
Upon which you dance,
Goddess of Wisdom.
Sunday Morning. No blue sky. Some clouds reflect.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged consciousness, Haiku, light leaks in, sense impressions, verse-forms on July 1, 2012| 3 Comments »
Sunday Morning. No blue Sky. Some clouds reflect.
I
Haiku True Nature:
Not just a sentence broken
Into smaller lines.
II
Haiku takes a walk:
A garden path inviting
Unexpected view.
III
Tracing thought patterns:
The bright weave of consciousness
Belonging nowhere.
IV
Intellect, a fool:
Lost in a dream of stories,
Suddenly wakened!
——-
In my mail this morning a haiku post from fivereflections appeared as a single line of text ( as they always do). It set off a little line of thought. ( hmmph! ‘Taking a line for a walk’ Paul Klee…). Also fired by a lovely jewel of a piece by skyraftwanderer….
Punctuation, plurals, tenses,
line breaks –
all nuances difficult to translate.
The gestures of the ancient calligrapher:
an ink-blot attains sentience….
Wang Wei and me,
Gone fishing
For ephemeral beauty
Down by the slow river,
The boiling tea kettle
Forgotten…
<a
This is not haiku
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Haiku, japan, Poetry on April 13, 2011| 1 Comment »
THIS IS NOT HAIKU
I saw a post about a haiku competition, wasn’t particularly interested ( mainly because the example they gave I thought was flaccid and rather cliched). But then all last night……..
For those who don’t recall, haiku is a form of short poem from Japan that has a normal form of three lines of 5, then 7, then 5 syllables. There are many rules and elements, which make haiku much more difficult than they would appear in translation (and why foreigners who try to write ‘haiku’ are treated to rather blank, but polite, stares!).
I have always been very fond of this form of poetry and will be waxing endlessly, but hopefully lyrically, on accompanying PAGES for those with the spare time to peruse….. (see: “This is not haiku- extended version”)
I
Counting syllables –
Not a good way to find sleep.
Haiku for Japan.
II
Haiku for Japan?
Falling onto pristine snow
One drop of red blood.
III
Still they make a sound:
Each tree in the cold forest,
Falling unnoticed.
IV
Faces of the dead
Crying in the deep mountains.
Drifts of white cherry.
V
How long shall they stay –
Footprints in the drying mud,
Now that you are gone?
VI
They are not haiku,
So carefully wrapped with skill –
These are our sorrows.
simonhlilly 