“I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.” ~ Vincent van Gogh

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

An American Sentence for Issa

Haiku nights: going to bed with Issa again; he’s wintering too.





Notes:

I'm reading this book (pictured) in bed every night lately; at present looking at his winter haiku – while it's winter for me too just now, here in the Southern Hemisphere.


Written for Weekly Scribblings #78 at Poets and Storytellers United, where Magaly invites us to choose one of several micro-forms.

 

Ironic, perhaps, that I didn't choose a haiku to reference Issa, one of the great haiku masters. But then, this piece is more senryu than haiku – and an American sentence can be either ... or neither.

 

[Is a poem actually working when the explanations are longer than it?]

 


Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Looking Out from Kerry’s Veranda

yellow blooms

dot the hillside

above the town


a stand of palms

tall and spindly –

heads move together


the mountain

is truncated, smoothed 

by swathing cloud


white truck 

blocks the lane –

car wriggles past


red sign

juts from a spread

of pale grey roofs


March afternoon –

clouds fill the sky

curls of grey


the church roof

rises in a point

aimed at the sky


a small mend

in the wire mesh 

focuses my gaze  



Some friends asked me, 'Teach us to write haiku.' As a start, I told them to write three-line observations of what they saw around us – plain descriptions, in present tense. 'These are not haiku,' I explained, 'but will put you into the mind-set of haiku.' I wrote with them, and later realised that what I had produced was (of course!) a series of small stones.

Monday, August 31, 2020

After we've gone ...

After we’ve gone  
(I like to think)
Earth will at last
rest ...
and recover.


For Weekly Scribblings #35: Rest at Poets and Storytellers United.

Monday, August 17, 2020

Irises

This may be 
technically winter
but in my neglected
weed-filled garden
suddenly irises bloom.




Friday, July 31, 2020

old lady ...

1.

old lady —
instead of romance
chocolates


2.

old lady —
instead of lovers
hot novels


(I'm not being ageist. I'm the old lady concerned, and quite happy, albeit wryly amused, with my substitutions.)