July Nights: Sequence

July nights

darkness brings a chill

I’m alone

I huddle

into my jacket

deny cold

turn on light 

and warmth to cancel
memories

already

five years ago, still

I shiver

(It's winter in Australia – and time for my 'anniversary reaction'.)

NaHaiWriMo Week 4

More one-liners purporting to be haiku or senryu 

Feb 22 Leaf

fallen leaf the end of the long summer

gold leaf edging the pages – books my grandpa gave me

plump leaf of my lucky jade bush – broken off

Feb 23 Nature (human)

city visit the too-quick speech of strangers

Summer fades I mourn the heat I deplored

I extend my walk to see my old home from outside

I make and hang the dream catcher, start to dream again

Feb 24 In short (brief, minimal haiku)

summer ends – last flowers

late – one crow call

magpie sings unseen

autumn – empty beach

Feb 25 To 

to the hill! fog falls away

flowers brought to the patient in time for a wreath

mother of sons I learn to kick a football

raising glass to lips – eye contact

fingers to lips – the train departs

Feb 26 Our 

your long absence from our home – I rearrange the space

our ball flies high – crack! the window shatters

dusk along our street mothers calling children in

slowly our nights grow cooler summer begins to end

Feb 27 Buddha

pelting rain serene-faced statue of Buddha

Buddha's gesture invites discourse magpies warble

wooden Buddha on highest shelf – in kitchen

lotus lips deep eyes to drown in Buddha's painted face 

February 28, 2017 Nature (a pure-nature poem).

tiny black-and-white feather on the lawn ibis in flight

small feather on the grass rain-soaked Autumn starts early

mountain swathed in cloud today summer's over

loud rain-drops falling from leaves after the rain stops

small cat sleeps with both ears pricked but closer to me each night


Michael Dylan Welch, who runs NaHaiWriMo, told us: 
For those of you who might have wondered, the prompts for this month all came from two sentences (slightly adapted) from R. H. Blyth: “Haiku is a hand beckoning, a door half-opened, a mirror wiped clean. It is a way of returning to nature, to our moon nature, our cherry blossom nature, our falling leaf nature, in short, to our Buddha nature.” So that’s why a few of the prompts have been repeated. This is one of my favourite quotations from Blyth about haiku.

NaHaiWriMo week 3

 More attempts at one-line haiku and senryu written to NaHaiWriMo prompts 


Feb 15 Returning to

the further from it I get the more I return to my past

returning to the old house it appears smaller

returning to the place after long absence home is gone

I return in memory yesterday becomes today

I return to poetry always my first love


Feb. 16 Nature (something you can see right now)

among tall eucalypts dream-catcher workshop

frangipani in her hair / timber walking-stick

hilltop – leaves against the circle of sky

magpie picking at the grass red roses

miniature roses taller than planned

staghorn on bare trunk one chopped branch


Feb. 17 Moon

moonlight and ocean a girl walking in a blue dress

full moon above only one streetlight

full moon behind cloud leaks light around edges

who needs dreams? full moon in my window

keeping pace with our car harvest moon rolls long horizon


Feb. 18 Nature (experienced in another season)

winter street swirling leaves in dusty gutters

birds crowd my veranda rail spring rains

rain sets in – bedraggled birds shriek at my cat

my spring lawn – clover dandelion ibis feathers

garden after rain flourishing green weeds

autumn dusk dogs and children play in the street

early autumn more weeks between lawn-mowings


Feb. 19 Cherry blossom

old love letters falling cherry blossom

heat wave I remember cherry blossom

blossom-fall a change in the weather

white cherry blossoms I recall the tang of red juice

pale cherry blossom far away

throngs of blossoming cherries crowding cameras

cherry blossom hide the photo


Feb. 20 Nature (unique and seasonal to where I live)

late summer frangipani blooms thinning

later and later the cool breeze of evening

sunny early morning crisp mountain edges

midday the hot town empties


Feb. 21 Falling

walking with you frangipani flowers falling on grass

a falling feather lands in my path I remember you

falling together in laughter soft mattress

rising and falling we breathe in rhythm

your last heavy breath silence falling






Link: NaHaiWriMo on facebook


Also linking to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #344

Feb 21 #2 was published in JUMBLE BOX, a selection of haiku written for the 2017 NaHaiWriMo.

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

One-line haiku/senryu Jan 2017

I've started exploring one-line haiku and senryu, under the influence of the wonderful HAIKU NOTEBOOK by W. F. Owen. Here is the whole month's output for January, as I started this exploration only late in the month.

old fifth birthday photo fancy dress and all his hair

scared cat bites my thumb not too hard the hand that feeds

summer storm my cat hisses at the vet

hot afternoon unseen kookaburra's harsh laugh

summer night loud crickets neighbour's heavy metal

long hot night my cat comes to bed briefly

hot cocoa to help me sleep I sit up later drinking 

heatwave survival the right setting on the electric fan

heatwave chocolate biscuits hard from the fridge

Erotic haiku / senryu and tanka: February 2016

your strong body
in my arms again –
you fill me

***

the smell
of your warm flesh
and the taste ...

***

a long time
between drinks – here now
I drink deep

***

you uncurl
and stretch your long limbs
exposing
the magnificence
I love to stroke

***

no need for touch
the mere thought of you
and I flower

***

I lick your skin
your nipples harden
I feel you swell

***

your hand stroking
my breasts and belly
heating my blood

Bits and Pieces

Some micropoems from my files, which it seems I haven't posted here before (arranged in alphabetical order by name of form, not by date of writing) –

Erotic haiku:

our soapy hands

as we shower together

slip and slide

1/8/15

he bends his head

I stand on tiptoe

our first kiss

3/8/15

(No need for curiosity, dear readers; there's no-one new. I write my erotica these days from memory and imagination.)

Gogyoshi:

so many clouds

plump and round

and apparently rollicking

over their big blue meadow —

kids in a playground

2/8/15

Senryu:

cold morning 

waking to back pain

and cat on bed

21/8/15


aqua-aerobics

I float in warm water

emerge wiped out

23/10/15

Tanka:

the rain stops

the stars are still dark

blanked out

the night’s loud silence

pierces like a scream

7/5/14

Even with 

the toy teddy bear 

beside me,

I fail to sleep –

until I clasp it.

18/8/15

on holiday

I begin to lose me

in the new

until this morning

I make a poem – ah!

25/8/15

I reach up

pull off and crush

a thin leaf

inhale the tang

of eucalyptus 

we do this 

starting in childhood

we Aussies

instinctively

breathing in home

26/8/15

like water

the light slants down

pouring

like silver rain

on your shining face

7/10/15

Tilus:

long grief, then all at once

I reclaim

me

9/6/14

the small cold days come down

I winter

lone

12/6/14

Linking to the Tuesday Platform for 1 Dec 2015 at 'imaginary garden with real toads'

Midwinter: haiku May — June 2015

her face

radiant

with peace

31/5/15

he beams at her

in the wedding photo

she draws back shyly

12/6/15

midwinter

my old black cat
gets skittish

19/6/15

Winter Sunday

the day of rest

I stay in dressing-gown

all day, reading

phone unplugged

doors locked, screen door snibbed

home is my castle

night settling down

favourite shows on telly

my old cat snuggling

For Sunday lime at Gillena's 'Lunch Break' blog

Moving in a Trance: Erotic haiku and tanka, October 2014

moving in a trance

I gaze down

catch his eyes dancing

3/10/14

my friend poses naked
with copies of our book
flesh overflowing

Promotional pic for SHE TOO

11/10/14

the scent

of fresh peaches

I succumb

***

their flesh

yields to my touch

ripe peaches

***

I watch

his long fingers

caressing a cat

***

he is leaving

the sun

shines on his hair

14/10/14

thoughts of you

my breasts

thrust forward

16/10/14

the phoenix

rises fiery hot

and I melt

in proximity —

so our lust renews

23/10/14

the naked poet

revealed within these pages —

oh, open the book!

***

eager fingers

unwrapping  her cover

find poetry

More promotional pics for SHE TOO

24/10/14

alone

with memory and wish

I imagine

29/10/14

A Senryu

Widowhood feels bleak.

She savours the nutty bread

bestowed by her friends.

Poetic Asides April Poem A Day Challenge 2013, 21: a senryu

Full moon tonight: November 2012 haiku

'Don't turn me into a frog!'

Of course not —

he's already a toad.

11/11/12

a movie about love

fiction

the only place I look for it

15/11/12

full moon tonight I pray there won't be storms

28/11/12

Life Goes On: October 2012 haiku

the Bali I knew

is gone, but

rambutans remain

rambutans —

I hunger for

Bali and Java

the isle of the Gods

tastes of

rambutans

1/10/12

life goes on

banality

settles in

10/10/12

new follower

tweets her dislike of cats

I don't follow back

22/10/12

There's Only Me

1

There's only me.

The grapes rot

before I finish them.

There's only me.

I play music

without headphones.

There's only me.

Why do I wear

my prettiest sarongs?

2

There's only me.

The cats spread out more

on the bed.

There's only me.

It takes four days

to fill the washing machine.

There's only me.

But his voice in the passenger seat

still says, 'You're clear this side.'

There's only me.

I arrange the pillows

a different way.

There's only me.

I can eat all

the chocolate.

3

There's only me.

I can finish writing a poem

uninterrupted.

There's only me. 

The morning news on TV

stays off.

There's only me.

In the top cupboard I find

his favourite soups.

There's only me

to give the cats

all their cuddles.

4

There's only me.

I come to a sad acceptance.

Then the real grief starts.

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

The clock ticks: January haiku 2012

her journals
have been deleted
so she’s gone

6/1/12


I keep ignoring
the smart-arse
why doesn’t he leave?

#lune

11/1/12


the clock ticks
he is tired again
and lies down

13/1/12


green cacti
rotted by mould
the black spot

20/1/12


Dragon’s blood incense
powerful for this New Year
the Water Dragon.

23/1/12


quiet
when the rain pauses
waiting

27/1/12