our last goodbye
pine trees shrouded
by the mist
(tied for 1st place, Caribbean Kigo Kukai #40, March 2013)
our last goodbye
pine trees shrouded
by the mist
(tied for 1st place, Caribbean Kigo Kukai #40, March 2013)
fine mist
he says frogs
I say crickets
— Cara Holman
The Heron’s Nest XIII:3, September 2011
***
mist
solstice morning
tree frogs croak
— Jone MacCulloch
***
of black and white
the raven leaving nothing
but the mist
— Sandi Pray
Daily Haiku Cycle 13, May 2012
***
old pond
another year older…
Basho’s frog
from a moonlit stump
the frog is outsprung
by its shadow
— Johnny Baranski
(Anthologized in The Blossoming Rudder: Haiku, Senryu, Koans,
and Pithy Sayings 1984-1987 Edited by H.F. Noyes.)
***
spring frogs . . .
softening the sound
of traffic
— Peter Newton
(from my haibun “Simple Folds”
in Contemporary Haibun Online, July 2011)
***
recalling your silence
as I pass through a valley
full of mist
I wish that I could
lose myself in it
— Alison Williams
Presence #17 May 2002
***
silent night
a crickets chirr
breaks the silence
~isabelle loverro
***
hazy moon
all the shapes
of a hangover
— Polona Oblak
NFTG 2:4 (March 2011)
***
misty morning
fading footprints
on the dewy grass
his ebony shadow lingers
across her frail body
—Pamela A. Babusci
12/21/12
***
cold moon –
the days of winter
stretch out before me
— Kirsten Cliff
Appeared on Angie Werren’s blog as part of her National Poetry Month
‘Couplets’ posts, April 2012. See haiga here
***
whispered secrets
the mist absorbs
the night
—Seánan Forbes
Daily Haiku, Cycle 13
***
under the crooked moon—
nothing else is the truth
nor even that mist
— Lech Szeglowski
***
morning fog
I’m startled by the splash
of frogs
— angie werren
the zen space — Summer 2012 Showcase
***
you remind me
how it felt that night we met . . .
our universe
filled with possibilities
and the soft hum of tree frogs
—Margaret Dornaus
Simply Haiku, vol. 9, no.1, Spring 2011
***
lavender mist
he murmurs another name
in his sleep
— Christine L. Villa
Shiki Kigo Kukai, November 2012
***
pine mist the enso we hold onto from this year to the next
—Kathy Uyen Nguyen
see haiga here
***
I wish I had a solstice haiku to share, but I don’t. Anyway, we can’t have a gathering of haiku poets without paying tribute to Basho’s frog. So share a haiku about frogs. Or crickets. Or both. Or mist. (Or the solstice.) Go wild!
fine mist
he says frogs
I say crickets
The Heron’s Nest XIII:3, September 2011
If you missed the initial post, click here to read about the month long haiku challenge I am holding right here on my blog this December.
evening fog
the sound of geese
comes and goes
— Cara Holman
Multiverses 1.1, June 2012
***
eventide…
more and more trees turn into
silhouettes
— Gillena Cox
***
westbound train –
the estuary
pale with gulls
— Alison Williams
Presence #19 January 2003
***
night fog
anyway, I remember you,
moon
— Lech Szeglowski
The Shiki Monthly Kukai, September 2009
***
foggy noon
sheep on the hills
climb into clouds
— Maire Morrissey-Cummins
***
to say yes or no?
geese unstitch themselves
from the sky
— Seánan Forbes
A Hundred Gourds 1:4, September 2012
***
in darkness
we forget our anger . . .
suddenly
the sound of wild geese
piercing the starless night
— Margaret Dornaus
Ribbons, Spring 2011
***
dense fog—
a Christmas song
from the carillon
— Michael Dylan Welch
Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 22 (in the “Angels We Have Heard On High” sequence)
***
in sky-mind
the broken-winged gander
soars
— Marie Shimane
***
suspended
from an evening cloud
the mountain
—Kirsten Cliff
the taste of nashi: New Zealand Haiku (Windrift, 2008)
Bay News, Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Waiariki Institute of Technology 2010 Calendar
***
new moon
I walk all evening
but leave no footprints
— S.M. Abeles
World Haiku Review, August 2012
***
fog tendrils
curl around aspens
her baby’s first haircut
— Jone Rush MacCulloch
***
balmy evening
the whisper of her ashes
from the sea
—Christine L. Villa
Sea Bandits 2012 (edited by Aubrie Cox of Yay Words)
***
backyard teatime . . .
another heartache stirs
into the fog
***
a stranger in the crowd
that looks like you
blue mist
— Cara Holman
Shiki Kigo Kukai, November 2012
***
whispered secrets
the mist
absorbs the night
— Seánan Forbes
Daily Haiku, Cycle 13, Summer 2012
***
city street
I fall into step
with a stranger
— Alison Williams
Blithe Spirit Vol.21 No.4 December 2011
***
coming home
to an empty house
so many stars
— Kirsten Cliff
Kokako 12, April 2010
evolution: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku (Red Moon Press, 2011)
***
where the blue goes
after sundown –
her bedroom eyes
— S.M. Abeles
Frogpond Iss. 35.2
***
pine mist . . .
a thousand suns shatter
from a robin’s landing
— Kathy Uyen Nguyen
***
street lights:
the shadows hold those kind
of women
— Paula Moore
***
blossoms in her hand
he smiles without knowing
her name
— Christine L. Villa
Sketchbook (January/February 29, 2012: Vol. 7, No. 1)
see haiga here
***
a homeless man
all the signposts
erased by the mist
— Lech Szeglowski
***
trees dressed
red and yellow
only till the next big storm
— Judy Cole
***
December mist
a crow calls out
breaking the silence
— Isabelle Loverro
Okay, here’s my idea for daily posts for the month of December. We all have growing collections of haiku, some of which may have appeared in online or print journals, won contests, been posted on blogs or social media in response to prompts, or are just sitting in our notebooks waiting for a chance to share them. I’d like to showcase these haiku, but in a very specific way. Every day I will post a haiku from my own archives (with publishing credits where appropriate), and in the comments, I’d love it if you would share one of your own haiku (with appropriate credits), that is related in some way. Think of the card game Crazy Eights, where the next card played has to match the current card in the discard pile in either rank or suit. So for my challenge, look for a matching haiku from your own archives (or yes, you can write a new haiku if you wish, but keep in mind that pretty much all journals will consider it published if you do), and share a haiku that keys off of either the season, topic, key words, or is a response to mine in any way.
My haiku for today is:
a stranger in the crowd
that looks like you
blue mist
(Shiki Kigo Kukai, November 2012)
You could share a haiku about strangers, crowds, the color blue, mist in particular, weather words in general, or even a haiku dealing with regret, longing or loneliness. I look forward to reading what you share! If I have enough of a response over the course of the month, I may put these together in small posts that I share on my blog periodically, or even a bigger collection at the end. I will do this daily, throughout the month of December. Participate as often as you choose!
2012 November PAD Chapbook Challenge- Day 25
I guess I’m getting quite a late start today. Guest prompter Cameron Mathews asked us to write an “opposite poem” of one of our earlier poetic attempts in this month. I decided to revisit Day 18, where I wrote a modified glosa/ epigram poem. Of course, I had to change all the rules of the form for this attempt.
I again started with the Shiki haiku on page 24 of The Haiku Handbook, by William J. Higginson and Penny Harter. This time, I used the lines from Shiki’s haiku in opposite order, and made them the first lines of my haiku (rather than the last lines). It’s easier to write the new haiku sequence than explain it!
rowing through
out of the mist
the wide sea
— Shiki
My Day 18 poem:
only the sound
of oars in water
rowing through
so far away
mountains rise
out of the mist
alone
with my thoughts
the wide sea
And today’s “opposite” poem:
the wide sea
thinking of you
so far away
out of the mist
white sails
or maybe a seagull
rowing through…
waves lap the shore
at my feet
More poetic responses can be read on the Poetic Asides blog.