We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)
Showing posts with label senryu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label senryu. Show all posts

19.2.26

Ten Views of the Moon

 (haiku)


1.

harvest moon

great wheel riding the sky

keeps pace with us


2.

the moon’s face

smiled in through my window

all my childhood


3.

stormy moon

on a wild ride half-glimpsed

through shadowy clouds


4.

I’m with Omar:

Ah, moon of my delight

that knows no wane!


5.

after the night 

I keep within me the moon’s

persistent light 


6.

morning –

the moon sinks from the sky

into the sea 


7.

dark night –

without that bright face

I’m lonely 


8.

full moon

in a ring of clouds

gazing back 


9.

daylight moon

ethereal as cloud

ghostly on blue


10.

the moon –

even in a sliver

fully present



This came from an exercise: to write 10 haiku about the moon, then remove the word 'moon' everywhere and craft a new poem from what remains. I did, but I liked this haiku sequence better than my final poem. 


(NB: The plural of 'haiku' is 'haiku'.)


Sharing (off-prompt) with Poets and Storytellers United at Friday Writings #215 .




21.7.25

Problems in My Paradise

  

I want that plant which purifies air. Don’t talk to me about clove oil for mould; it’s toxic to cats. (Yes, mould is toxic too, but it will do us in slower.) There’s nowhere close to find the plant. It’s classed as a weed. Then a local woman on facebook advertises a whole lot she’s giving away. I don’t even wait to put on make-up or a bra. 


I wonder if I’ll be able to find the place. Just as I step in the car it starts to rain. ‘I’m having an adventure,’ I tell myself. 


daring –

driving anywhere new

at my age


I choose the smaller box, more than enough for my tiny space.

‘Will you have help the other end?’ she asks me. I say a cheery no. 


‘What will you do? Take a bit at a time?’ 


‘Something like that.’ And it is what I do: piece by piece out the back, one-handed, holding on to walls and railings as I go.

Enough! I’m proud of myself. I go indoors for a coffee.







Next day my cleaner comes. I tell him I’d like some planting this time, instead of mopped and vacuumed floors. He’s willing. Soon I have a row of tall, mottled leaves standing up like spears against the back fence. 


People on facebook warn me it’s invasive. But that garden bed is edged with wooden slats, boxed in. Besides, this is just to keep it all alive until I can get some pots and potting mix. I need the stuff inside the house! 


The cleaner sweeps my back veranda too, and washes down the pavers that cross the yard. 


satisfaction –

directing operations

others perform







Friends tell me it has wonderfully strange names. I look up Wikipedia. Snake plant, Saint George’s sword, mother-in-law’s tongue, viper’s bowstring hemp … 


Oh-oh! I discover this too is toxic to cats! I’ll have to buy an air purifier instead. Meanwhile – oh well – I wanted easy-care plants in my garden. I’ve got them now.


a little knowledge –

I introduce snake plant

into the garden





17.4.25

Asked for haiku ...

 

asked for haiku

over morning coffee –

brain tries to wake

(does a senryu count?)



Someone somewhere has declared this (April 17) Haiku Day.



Busy writing a poem a day this April for NaPoWriMo, as well as launching a new book plus a re-issue of an old one – rather than writing anything else new, I offer this one (off-prompt) for Friday Writings #173 at Poets and Storytellers United. Well it IS new, in response to Haiku Day, but it's also short, LOL. (The prompt at P&SU is 'Youth has no age'. Maybe this little thing says, rather, that age has no youth! *Sigh.*)







6.12.24

Knowing What I Know


Assignment: write about an adventure you dream of. I realise that, at 85, I have already lived all the adventures I ever yearned for. 


Most of them involved travel. And of course I dreamed of — and found — the adventure of love. I feel no lack, no longing. I am replete.


Then I realise that the lack of any hankering is because I’m still in the best adventure. I’ve reached an understanding: Life itself is the greatest, the grandest, the most exciting adventure! It’s a quieter adventure by now …  but also deeper. It’s beautiful.


sunset

along the horizon —

I’m blessed


I wish I could share my understandings. Having lived to be old, I have — as we are told to expect — acquired some wisdom. There are things I have learned, things I now know. How much easier would it be for younger friends if I could pass these things on? But they don’t want to listen. They argue against the pearls I drop, they swear it’s different for them. They won’t even try my way.

Perhaps they’re right. We are all different. Temperaments and circumstances vary. Also, what is appropriate at one age might be all wrong at a different stage of life.


nearing the end

I see that my story 

is mine alone


I realise, reluctantly, that I must allow those I care for to make their own mistakes; that is the way they will learn whatever lessons they need. The only way to learn the great truths is to live them … live into them.


unheard — 

wisely, I resign myself 

to silence





Written for Friday Writings #156 at Poets and Storytellers United: Let's Go Adventuring!  


27.10.24

5.10.24

Hospital Haiku, part 2


home from hospital …

my phone starts recognising 

my face again 


27/9/24



not a lap cat

but after my absence

lingers there


28/9/24



four days home

I manage to shower

at last


29/9/24



convalescence –

lost in the limbo

of all this rest


*


all my life 

the same navel –

now scar-changed


1/10/24


Hospital Haiku, part 1

suddenly

from my hospital bed

bright moon


*


post-op

every fart

a triumph


23/9/24



bedpan –

dignity replaced

by laughter


*

anaesthetists

handsome tall dark slim –

bonus


*


‘don’t get cranky with us’

nurse at end of  night shift –

crankily


apologised later –

double shift while others

strike for higher pay


24/9/24



ultrasound 

machine woofs like a dog –

can it smell fear?


*


both arms bruised

(blood tests and cannulas)

I file my nails


25/9/24



bowel movement …

I decide I’ve written enough

excretory haiku


*


why can’t I sleep? 

I don’t tell the nurse my grief

friends recently lost


*


scant sleep 

but I see dawn again

through the ward window 


*


waiting, waiting –

 no-one tells me when 

I might go home 


26/9/24