I’m pleased to have a couple of haiku in the June issue of A Hundred Gourds. In keeping with their policy of not reposting our works for a period of 40 days after they are first published in AHG, I will post my haiku from the March issue instead.
winter solitude
the click of my fingers
on the keyboard
yielding
to a sudden impulse
butterfly in the wind
end of summer
the dog’s bully stick
chewed down to a nub
For the I Doodle, You ‘Ku challenge, on Aubrie Cox’s Yay Words blog:
For the He Doodles, You ‘Ku challenge, on Aubrie Cox’s Yay Words blog:
butterfly wind
counting the days
until summer
(response to doodle by HM Yuan)
For the He Doodles, You ‘Ku challenge, on Aubrie Cox’s Yay Words blog:
star bright
the summer sky
full of wishes
(response to doodle by HM Yuan)
barefoot summer…
a drop of honeysuckle
on my tongue
— Cara Holman
NaHaiWriMo, April 2011
Standing Still: HNA Conference Anthology, Aug. 2011
***
sand between my toes
sea gulls and sea shells
castles washed away
~isabelle loverro
***
last kiss of summer
the sweet flesh
of a plum
— Seánan Forbes
Daily Haiku, Cycle 13
***
beach cottage
the musty smell
of old novels
— Lauren Mayhew
The Heron’s Nest XIII, 4: December 2011
***
wanting you
fills me up…
flower nectar
dripping on the
lace tablecloth
— Pamela A. Babusci
A Thousand Reasons
***
every summer
an orioles’ nest
suspended
at the tip of a branch
my dreams of flying
— Jenny Ward Angyal
Simply Haiku 10:1, summer 2012
***
honeysuckle nights . .
singing the Beatles
amidst fireflies
— Sandi Pray
see haiga here
***
lime pickle-
the tang
of an afternoon kiss
— sanjuktaa
Frogpond 35:1, Winter 2012
***
heat wave
rising from the dust
rumbling hooves
— Kathy Uyen Nguyen
XIII Bilingual Calico Cat Haiku Contest
***
no mail today
a taste of woodsmoke
on the wind
— Kirsten Cliff
From ‘Between the Birdsong’ (with Cara Holman)
LYNX 27:3, October 2012
***
neighbours’ gossip
spitting a cherry pit
as far as i can
— Polona Oblak
A Hundred Gourds 1:1
***
prickly heat
I taste the coolness
of island colors
— Christine L. Villa
***
the snag
of childhood dreams,
of kites in trees
— S.M. Abeles
paper wasp vol. 18.1
***
lovesmelovesmenot this memory of green beans
— angie werren
Things With Wings —
ed. by Aubrie Cox (June, 2012)
***
spring date
tasting the down
of dandelion
— Lech Szeglowski
Shiki Kukai, May 2007
***
words
we’ve left unsaid–
Indian summer
— Alegria Imperial
1st Place, July 2011 Shiki Kukai
***
barefoot
the tides of summer
licking my toes
— Linda L Ashok
***
campfire song
. . . mother’s note tucked
inside my bedroll
— Margaret Dornaus
***
summer
first kiss
the taste of blueberries
— Jone MacCulloch
This has got to be my most workshopped haiku. It generated quite a discussion when it first appeared on NaHaiWriMo back in April 2011. Later that year, it was workshopped again at a late night haiku session at the Bend Haiku Weekend. And it received a little streamlining when I submitted it to the anthology for the HNA conference. Interestingly enough, the final version is not so different from the original!
barefoot summer…
a drop of honeysuckle
on my tongue
NaHaiWriMo, April 2011
Standing Still: HNA Conference Anthology, Aug. 2011
Share a haiku about a childhood summer memory, summer in general, honeysuckle, nectar, or the sense of taste. 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.
A few housekeeping items. Please let me know how you would like your name to appear with your haiku, if it is NOT the same as the name with which you left a comment. And I’d be happy to add a link to a blog, website, or twitter or Facebook handle– I’ve been picking them off the comments when I can. Finally, if you spot any errors (I’m doing this all through cut and paste, and wrestling with WordPress for formatting), please let me know so I can fix them. This includes hyperlinks that point to the wrong place! I’ve been proofing things the best I can, but still, errors can creep in….
Onto the next prompt. I would be totally remiss if I didn’t include at least one haiku with rain. This is Portland, after all.
lamb’s ear
the softness
of summer rain
Daily Haiku- Cycle 13, August 2012
Suggested themes: herbs, summer flowers, summer (in general), the sense of touch, or of course, rain. 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.
My fourth (and final) week of being a Daily Haiku Cycle 13 contributor. Please follow along!
lamb’s ear
the softness
of summer rain
I love the feel of Lamb’s ear leaves. I was thinking of that, as I penned this haiku at the beginning of summer, when it was very rainy. Lamb’s ear also has the unfortunate characteristic of becoming somewhat invasive, so with great reluctance, I finally dug it out of my herb garden to make room for some of my other plants. I may attempt to grow it again one day, knowing now that it needs to be pruned severely back each year to keep it under control.
Kathy Nguyen sponsored a haibun contest on her Origami Lotus Poetry blog this summer. The rules were challenging. Three haibun were to be written, each on a specified theme, and the resultant haibun were judged as a set. I am pleased to have received “Runner-Up” in this contest. This is the second of my three, also written “on-site”:
(THEME: Summer or spring)
As I step off the airplane into the glaring sunlight, I feel like I’m stepping into perpetual summer. California always has that effect on me. But it’s an illusion. When the sun sets and the evening fog rolls in like clockwork over the foothills every afternoon, it is as cold and dark here as anywhere I’ve ever been. Somewhere in those dark hills is the double-wide grave marker with my parents’ names on it that I won’t be visiting this time around. But I hardly need to anymore. Their spirits live everywhere around here–in the sunlit live oaks, in the golden hills, in the elusive scents of eucalyptus and wild sage, and in every place that we ever drove through or walked along together.
home again
the sun glinting
off the Golden Gate
Prose Posies 