Valentine's Day Haiku

(well anyway, one-liners trying to be haiku)


rain falls on your long absence I don't forget

heat-wave my ardour increases

that café we used to like closes – cloudy day

the sun in the photo shines on your face – forever

you offer your heart – the taste of chocolate

remembering our first time you brought roses






Written for NaHaiWriMo 2017

Linking to Tuesday Platform 21 Feb 2017 at 'imaginary garden with real toads'

NaHaiWriMo week 2

A prompt a day. I'm doing one-liners.

Feb 8 Open

door opened after the heat – fine invisible rain

not open-minded so much as blank no haiku

stinking hot neighbour swears through open window


Feb 9 A mirror

I hold the mirror to the light - all flash no image

when that car in the next lane vanishes from your mirrors


Feb 10 Wiped

saw him off with a kiss closed the door wiped her mouth

wiped the mirror – her mother still stared back


Feb 11 Clean

clean desk – sign of an empty mind?

cleans the wall – fingerprints scrabbling to get into Mexico

dead spider – no insects in this clean house

rain-cleaned air – humidity restores sticky skin


Feb 12 It (use the word but don't say what ‘it’ is)

it rises we gasp perspire seek cold water

momentary breeze it falls white to the grass

is it a bird is it a plane, no it's ... too high to tell


Feb 13 Is (use this specific word in your poem, but try to be wary of introducing too much judgment into the poem)

weeks of over 40C global warming is

Goddess Isis is (not terrorISt)


February 14 A way (of)

small bright feather blows towards me away

finding a way into my closed yard – water dragon

cat under table a way of controlling thunder


Link: NaHaiWriMo on facebook


Also linking to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #343

NaHaiWriMo week 1

Haiku and senryu. Each day a new prompt. I'm going for one-liners. I think these are only trying (and failing) to be one-line haiku / senryu but maybe they are poetry. Or possibly aphorisms.

Feb 1 Haiku

heatwave I compose haiku indoors

lapsed haiku-habit doldrums then NaHaiWriMo


Feb 2. Is (but don’t use the word)

living alone existence in the click of a keyboard

my dead husband waves at me memories

widowhood he walks ahead of me down the passage


Feb 3. A

ugly Aunty Amy favourite great-aunt to tribe

spinster Aunty Katy all her siblings’ children hers 

gentle Aunty Ella mother of my roughest cousins

afterwards we smoked in bed forbidden pleasures

‘after all’ we excuse ourselves after the damage done

after all anguish again arriving at acceptance

‘Eh’ – awkward aggressive accusatory or apathetic?


Feb 4 Hand

morning heat builds slowly her hand reaches for the fan

lethargic heat her wrinkled hand clutching the fan

fading light her hand at the door waving


Feb 5 Beckoning

summer evening she beckons from the shadows

he turns his face her beckoning hand

hot day the curl of the waves beckoning


Feb 6 A door

a door shuts – opens days later on dead spider

‘I adore you,’ he says – eyes wandering

Feb 7. Half

worse than a worm in the stew half a worm
(not original, old joke, couldn’t resist)

chocolate hard from the fridge can't cut you half what a pity

summer night half-heard music through an unknown window

waking in early half light already the heat

Link: NaHaiWriMo on facebook

Also linking to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #342

Feb. 4 #3 and Feb. 7 #2 were published in JUMBLE BOX, a  selection of haiku written for NaHaiWriMo 2017

NaHaiWriMo Jan. 2014

Writing to prompts posted at the NaHaiWriMo site on facebook
(the prompt word did not have to be included in the haiku but was meant to inspire)

1: ascension

the basketball

springs from the small boy's hands

guided by the father

***********

Airborne

I love take-off,

that sharp tilt and climb

to lose the ground

I love flight 

up through foggy cloud

into endless blue

2: abyss

light-headed

I seem to swirl and fall

staying upright

3: art/artists

possum-skin cloaks

elders and children create

remembering

(Bunjilaka exhibition, Museum Victoria)

4: azaleas

travelling north

our only regret 

the azaleas he planted

5: abbey

weathered sandstone

this peaceful old church

built by convicts

6: adrift

glassy sea

the bare-masted yacht

rests

7: amber

summer sunset

trees and water

radiate light

8: absinthe

bright green

they dance in the light

my bling things

9: Adam 

laughing talking

dining with my friend

my stepson

10: anatomy

slow lizard

on splayed legs

no rain yet

11: admission

January

heat enters 

closed doors

12: apocalypse

darkness

the bush fires

still burn

13: addiction

summer night

I remember

the child he was

14: acorn

strange seed

taking root in our soil

grows alone

15: Apartheid

apart

we hide from each other

ourselves

16:  absent

your absence

is never absent

from my thoughts

17: ambiguous

grey clouds

mass in the sky

without rain

18: angel

I tremble

as the aweful voice says,

‘Have no fear’.

19: appreciation

the child blows away

the feather I give her

laughing for joy

20: arithmetic 

one and one make two

two made one that was three

till my brother came

21: abandon

high summer

the cat by the fan

legs in air

22. Aphrodite

Spring morning

an empty shell

lands on the sand

23. answered/unanswered

laughing loudly

into the silence

one kookaburra

24. ache

heated pool

I float

without pain

25. apparition

since you died

wandering pointlessly

I’m ghost

26 after the storm

dripping leaves

a chorus of sparrows

clearing rain

27 alchemy (the transformation of a substance of lesser 

value into one of greater value, e.g., straw into gold). 

heavy rain

at last a bud

on the rosebush

28 apology

Australia Day

can we make the word Sorry

mean something?

29 absolution

too tired 

for unforgiveness

falling rain

30 alternative

to rise 

or fall?

sleepless night

31 afterlife

(for Pete Seeger)

at rest

in art and song

eternal life

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Four

Feb. 22: vent

cool morning air
through the open door
magpies calling


February 23: Today's writing prompt is to write mischievously about a cross-eyed paleontologist studying a one-legged rhinoceros beetle nibbling an Egyptian mummy’s shoulder blade during the summer solstice on Mars, and be sure to refer to a mega-hard Sudoku puzzle, torn Monopoly money, and a vampire, plus a Mongolian-speaking Nobel prize-winner who dances polkas whenever he hears “Moves Like Jagger” on bagpipes or the Macarena song performed on an out-of-tune Northumbrian squeezebox underwater. And be sure to type in your poem with your nose while singing a Broadway show tune, since you should now have plenty of practice at doing exactly that. Anything less and I shall be supremely disappointed. Just kidding. Again. Instead, write about . . . a wig.

on Mars
summer solstice
red-hot

cross, I
watch rhino beetles
unwrap Mummy

crosswords please
not Sudoko numbers
too cryptic

blood money
vampires tear into
Monopoly

Obama now
moves like Jagger
dancing underwater

peace prize winner
out of tune with the people
faces new battles

the squeeze is felt
in Outer Mongolia
Pandora’s box

bagpipes
or Macarena ...
let’s just polka

nobody knows
the trouble I’ve seen
typing practice

haiku prompts
after 23 days
I flip my wig


Feb. 24: [the letter] x

exhausted
we cuddle in sleep
the cats purr


Feb. 25: yellow (must use the word)

yellow rose
golden in my poem
I was eight


Feb. 26: zip

humid evening
at the end of summer
I’ve lost my zip


Feb. 27: bad haiku


His Eyes

his diamond-bright eyes
are giving me gorgeous goose-
bumps when I see them


Love

love is the greatest
power in the universe
it will cure all ills


An Encounter

her dress was yellow
the autumn day was mellow
his eyes smiled hello


Feb. 28: make a ‘generated’ haiku ( from http://www.everypoet.com/haiku/default.htm ) more literary

original:

dreaming plum giggling
tugging bronze unbroken bride
palpitates softly

mine:

plum blossoms
cover her in white ...
soft laughter

**********

asleep
by the bronze statue
her soft breathing


Feb. 29: leap

stray duck in traffic
I pray
for a flying leap

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Three

Feb. 15: opera

never heard
that performance we missed
I don’t forgive


Feb 16: pool

new acquaintance
neighbour with swimming-pool
instant best friend


Feb. 17: queue

crossing our legs
too few cubicles
penis envy


Feb.18: rattle

in my Melbourne
the old red rattlers
went the distance


Feb. 19: sandal

a lone sandal shuffles in the tide


Feb. 20: talus

the hill
in the big rain
falls downhill



Feb. 21: umbrella

useless
my umbrella
in the wind

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week Two

Feb. 8: hat

my sun-hat

hangs on the doorknob

summer rain

Feb. 9: ice

except in drinks

I don’t see ice any more

I’m glad to say

Feb. 10: jam

jam tomorrow

adds extra flavour

to pie in the sky

Feb. 11: kitchen

noisy cats

prowling the kitchen

plead starvation

Feb. 12: laundry

rain again

chairs and door handles

dripping cloth

Feb. 13: mountain(s)

on my wall Roland

painted by my late father

my old favourite

I walk out my gate

turn and greet our guardian

friendly Warning

Feb. 14: nachos

ah! Tex-Mex

the flavour of Austin

remembered

NaHaiWriMo 2012 Week One

February is National Haiku Writing Month — except it's international — hosted on facebook, with prompts, by Michael Dylan Welch.

Feb. 1: apple

one bite
out of the apple
squirts juice


Feb. 2: boat

moored
three masts
moonlit


Feb 3: catfish

I cannot catch
the unseen catfish
in verse


Feb. 4: any kind of dog.

small timberwolf
self-possessed as a cat
I still miss you


Feb. 5: egg

eating the unborn
I prefer brown skins
in eggs as in men


Feb. 6: frame

only at the joints
of this expansive structure
we see the fine bones


Feb 7: grief

reports of her death
greatly exaggerated
grief instantly cured

NaHaiWriMo #28

summer ends
friends argue and blame
I lose heart

NaHaiWriMo #27 (2)

under the carport
wide-eyed owl immobilised
by the sensor light

NaHaiWriMo #27

from my bed
through the new curtain
soft new light

NaHaiWriMo #26

my cat
knows his place
on the bed

NaHaiWriMo #25

wrestling
with facebook
slow connection

NaHaiWriMo #24

disappearing
in a misty future
blue planet

NaHaiWriMo #23

cold morning
earthquake news
broadcast live

NaHaiWriMo #22

big thunder
cracks right over us
ah, cool change

NaHaiWriMo #21

every night:
‘Bedtime!’ then detours
to his computer

NaHaiWriMo #20

humid
sleepless
4am

NahaiWriMo #19

Saturday
internet dropping
in and out

NaHaiWriMo #17

a warm night
he blows out the candle
makes a wish
.