haiku (one-a-day)
January 15, 2008 by QuoinMonkey
Skin Of A River Birch, Minneapolis, Minnesota, August 2007, photo © 2007 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
haiku (one-a-day)
This post was created for a very specific purpose: writing a haiku a day. Some of our readers have expressed an interest in haiku. And some have left haiku in our comments on various posts. I wanted to create a space for our readers to come back to, anytime they wanted, and drop in a daily haiku.
Last year for the 4 season Writing Intensive in Taos, we read Clark Strand’s, Seeds from a Birch Tree: Writing Haiku and the Spiritual Journey. It is a book I go back to often to support the practice of writing.
Clark Strand is a former Zen Buddhist monk. In 1996 he left his position as senior editor of Tricycle: The Buddhist Review to write and teach full time. In Seeds from a Birch Tree, he describes haiku as the following:
A haiku is a seventeen-syllable poem about the season. Arranged in three lines of five, seven, and five syllables, and balanced on a pause, a haiku presents one event from life happening now. However much we may say about haiku, its history or its various schools, it is difficult to go beyond these three simple rules: form, season, and present mind.
loving its whiteness
I walk around the birch tree
to the other side
haiku practice
When we did our post a few days ago on the release of Natalie Goldberg’s new book, Old Friend from Far Away, one of our regular readers, breathepeace, made several comments on haiku as a practice:
Natalie introduced me to haiku poetry. This year, I am committed to write one each day (or more if I choose).
Haiku is a precise way of working with words and I have found that it does lead me to other writing: poems, essays, etc. I’ve also learned that it helps me to focus on detail, finding just the right word (with the right number of syllables!) and, yes, it is a bite-sized writing practice. I’m happy to hear others exploring and playing with the haiku form.
According to Clark Strand, all you need to write haiku is some familiarity with the form and a simple notebook:
The correct way to use a haiku diary is just to be very free and open. Don’t set a single format. Don’t organize the book five haiku to a page or limit it to poems and dates, excluding prose. You may even find that you jot down an occasional phone number or appointment in its pages when no other book is handy, or — if you are an artist — a sketch of some interesting scene.
Write down your haiku just as they come to mind, without too much deliberation over whether they are good or bad. Improvement takes place slowly, so set them down the way they come and stay alert for the next opportunity to write.
haiku walk
In the summer of 2006, Natalie took us on a field trip to some of her favorite places at Ghost Ranch, New Mexico. We wrote, swam, and took a haiku walk up Box Canyon. For me, Ghost Ranch was one of the most inspiring trips of the year. Natalie had us follow Clark Strand’s outline for walking and writing haiku:
In the simplest form, writing haiku is closer to collecting shells than searching for the proper word. When you go to the shore to collect shells, you just walk along in a relaxed way, now and then stooping down to look at something interesting or beautiful. Sometimes you pick up a fragment for its shape or color, and sometimes a fully formed shell. If you take a daily haiku walk in this same spirit, soon you will find that haiku come all by themselves.
Loosely, Strand’s haiku walk goes something like this:
beginning
-
make sure your purpose is only to walk, to be outside in nature
-
you’re not trying to get somewhere, or even to write haiku
-
relax into the feeling of being outdoors
-
notice weather, plants, animals, but keep walking
middle
-
let your body loosen and relax
-
let nature displace the ordinary day to day concerns
-
take time to pause over things that strike you as beautiful
-
pauses create space in your life for something to enter
end (beginner’s mind)
- let that something come in
- take your notebook out of your pocket and carry it in your hand
- the space you created in your life a few minutes ago now becomes the space to write a poem
Last year, I walked a local labyrinth in St. Paul to write haiku. But it can be as simple as walking around your neighborhood. Or walking around the block. After a while you won’t need to structure your walks anymore. You’ll know the right moment to write.
haiku - looking out, looking in
Haiku as a poetry form provides a way to be present to the outside, in order to go deeper within. Japanese poet, Matsuo Basho, is known for his haiku. In the year before he died, he wrote the following verse:
Chrysanthemums bloom
in a gap between the stones
of a stonecutter’s yard
Near the end of Seeds from a Birch Tree, Strand speaks of Basho’s greatest work, The Narrow Road to the Deep North:
Haiku, in many ways the most outward, most concrete, and most perpetually grounded form of poetry, is also the most inward. It requires a lot of inner work.
Basho titled his greatest work Oku no Hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Deep North). Basho traveled a long way north on a journey with his student and fellow poet Sora and kept a diary of his travels. The diary contains some of his most famous haiku.
The way north is the way within. This kind of understanding comes when we realize that in looking out, we are also looking in. We learn it by looking carefully at the world.
Basho said: There is one thing which flows through all great art, and that is a mind to follow nature, and return to nature.
Feel free to drop a haiku into the comments in this post, any time, day or night. Tomorrow, or 52 days from now. It doesn’t matter.
Write a haiku a day for a month. If you wish, break structure and form. Be playful with your writing. With practice, you’ll find your way home.
-posted on red Ravine, Tuesday, January 15th, 2008
-one writer’s review of Seeds from a Birch Tree, Hyperion, 1997 (including more haiku from the book): Tony Lipka on Clark Strand’s Haiku of Mindfulness
-short bio of Clark Strand: World Wisdom


I love Haiku. I think I mentioned this before, but I used to write them all the time:
http://thelonebeader.blogspot.com/search?q=haiku
I understand that all 3 lines of the haiku should never form a complete sentence…
Thanks for the link, LB. I saw that you had one published as well. (And your beadwork, too!) I like the Roadside Haiku and the Celtic Woman Haiku. Great collection. Looking forward to reading more.
I love haiku. It is beautiful.
Nice blog by the way. 
Welcome, Becky. Thanks for stopping by.
Here’s my haiku for today. I wrote it in the shower in the early a.m. (I do some of my best writing in the shower). The floor was ice cold. I stepped through a ray of sun, shining through the bathroom window. Maybe I was sleepwalking.
minus seventeen
January sun covers
the mole on my cheek
Thank you, QM, for sharing the details of haiku and for reminding me about taking a haiku walk. I am so grateful that you have dedicated a space for writers to share haiku. I hope that many will leave a trail of haiku breadcumbs for all of us to follow.
winter cottonwood:
branches, earth’s capillaries,
reach into blue sky
breathepeace, thank you for waking me up to haiku practice again. I really enjoy it. It grounds me. And it was deeply gratifying to write this post. Deep bow.
This is a great post, QM. The green in the photo is amazing. Would it be silly for me to say it doesn’t even look natural, it’s such an intense and odd color?
Speaking of intense, this is an intense day at work. I didn’t want to comment on this post until I had a haiku to add. One came to me after a marathon of meetings, sitting back, looking up at the ceiling. Here it is:
the florescent lights
oddly soothing in their way
still, outside beckons
QM, thank you for this great post. I had already decided that a haiku a day would be good for me to do, and then you came up with these very instructive and informative guides. As little as I get outside when it’s cold…dash to work; store; meetings; home again;
still, living on the edge of town, with my view of mountains, etc. I will try to get as much nature into my poems as I can. The other morning, I raised the shade and surprised a deer breaking her fast, only inches away from my window. It prompted me to write:
deer in my garden,
surprised brown eyes on both sides
of glass in between!
One day, as I was counting syllables, it reminded me of when I was editor of the front page of my high school newspaper, and one of my tasks was to write the headlines. The similarities of haiku and headlines being that headlines have to tell what the story is about and fit into a very specific, limited space. It was a challenge which I enjoyed and had fun with.
YB, I had to grin when I got this mental image of you staring up at the lights, wishing you were outside!
ybonesy, I like your haiku about light, inside and out. And how odd the light is in most work places. In some ways, it’s the quality of light the day I took the birch shot that makes that green so intense.
It was taken the same day as this shot - Calm Before The Storm (LINK). And a huge storm was moving into Minnesota that night. It’s almost like the grass behind the tree is an eerie mint green.
Marylin, I love your haiku. Such a sense of humor…it made me smile, imagining those two sets of brown eyes.
I think it is wonderful that you’re going to do the haiku a day. You might be surprised with how much nature is also around when you are dashing to and home from work. It always surprises me when I pay attention.
I know what you mean about the limited space of headlines. Definitely a challenge. Just the right words are needed.
BTW, after a while, you get to break the rules, too. And write haiku about anything you want to write it about. Whatever gets us to write! It’s really the dedicated practice of seeing that changes us.
Hope you are staying warm out your way. We are headed back into the deep freeze tomorrow. Extremes are always good for the writing!
Love the photo, too, QM. It is great inspiration:
peeling white birch bark:
seeing beneath outer skin
tenderness revealed
breathepeace, “tenderness revealed” - such a lovely line. And exactly the way I feel when I catch a glimpse of what’s under the skin of a tree.
I just got back from a rushed trip to the dentist. But this practice made me pay attention. I wrote this walking into her office. Not much more time to comment right now. I’ll be back later!
orange ring circles elm
black ice sidewalk, building plate -
1895
QM — Nice haiku. I can “see” your walk into the dentist’s office. I hope the dental equipment is newer than the building…and that your teeth are not in “crisis.”
For me, “tenderness revealed” spoke of both trees and people, when paired with “seeing beneath outer skin.” It provided the space for it to mean just that or maybe something more.
QM, I am willing to finally bare my soul! I have always surrounded myself by nature. I thrive on the relaxation & joy I gain, whether it be the river, the beach, the places I have visited, or the exterior of the places I have called “home”. For years J & I were fortunate enough to rent the farm house we affectionately called “Green Acres”.
Now we find ouselves in the home we invested in, surrounded by trees & wildlife. We like seclusion. I could never live in a city, though I know well that it works for others. Most of our observations here are very much like the description that Marylin wrote about in her comments. Behind glass windows, we have witnessed the true beauty that nature offers! Deer, squirrels, all varieties of wild birds, and the occasional wild turkeys that drink from our stream & make their journey( to wheverver the heck they go) through our back yard. Open a door & they dash away!
I have never tried my hand at Haiku, though I find these posts to be quite interesting. I made a decision to try one a week. I have never done this type of practice before. I wrote one last week & one today. It surprised me that both had to do with the loss of 5 trees the week before Christmas. We had a series of ice storms. The trees stood little chance of surviving the weight of the heavy ice. We sat in our living room, nothing we could do. In a period of only 2 days we lost a Weeping Willow tree, a cherry tree, & 3 others . Two of them completely uprooted by the domino effect. Mind you, these were tall & well established trees, at least 70 feet tall or better. I have an issue looking at the devastion still there. Well, what this is leading to are last weeks haiku & todays, so I will type them in that order.
midwinter sunshine
floods through the naked tree top,
warmth before nights chill
snow falling, like the
trees felled by ice storms past
wood for next winter
Any critique or comments would be helpful to me as I intend to continue this practice. D
diddy, I was just going to head to bed and decided to check for comments. I’m glad I did. Your haiku are wonderful. Don’t change a thing. I’m so excited you are doing the haiku practice once a week. It is a great gift to yourself (and to us).
I feel for the loss of those trees. I know what the land around your home looks like and the deep well of trees that drops in front of the house is part of the serenity of your place. I’m so sorry you lost them. It is a kind of grieving process.
We are surrounded by a few old growth oaks here. And every time we get our violent spring and summer storms, I’m so afraid one or more is going to topple. I can see why the haiku led you to those beautiful trees. It’s kind of a memorial to them, a thing of honor.
Looking forward to your weekly practices. Anything else you discover along the way, about the practice, your writing, the haiku, would be wonderful to learn. I’m heading to bed soon. Sweet dreams to all in your part of the country.
breathepeace, no crisis here. Just the second appointment in a series to get a crown on. She cemented the porcelain into place today. I feel like a new woman (chomp, chomp).
Yes, the tenderness revealed…trees and people. Underneath the skin. The great thing about haiku is there are so few words, the interpretations can stretch out beyond…like when I used the 1895, I had no idea if anyone would know what I mean. You did.
And, yes, dental equipment was much newer than the building. I had no idea that building was that old until I slowed down and paid attention to the numbers etched near the steps as I was walking inside.
QM, thanks for your comments. Anyway you can correct sushine to sunshine? I laughed after I sent off the comment (it pays to proof read before hitting submit comment )! I’m still adjusting to the laptops smaller , more sensitive keyboard! I was afraid that anyone reading sushine would think I had taken a stroll down by the stream & that some fish had jumped out of the water & I was eating a raw frozen fish! I hope to find myself feeling more comfortable with haiku. As the year goes by I look forward to this practice!
Pleasant dreams to you & if you & yb are still meeting tomorrow, I wish you both well in your decision process. D
lol, I just corrected it. You know, I didn’t even catch that. My eye glossed over it and added in the N. Yep, we are still meeting. We’ll see what happens. More will be revealed. Night.
Ditto diddy (I like saying that). The two haikus flow well. I can hear and feel the pause. And the sense of resignation and sadness with the second one, esp. I’m thrilled you’re doing this!!
gray heater throws light
summer wasps hide between gusts
of bitter wind chills
Hi gang, hope it’s ok if I just jump right in. All your haiku are wonderful, you folks rock! I just learned about haiku this week, QM your blog being very timely for me. And the 1895 thing was very clever. My initial thoughts about haiku regarded the spiritualiy side, trying to rejuvenate .. I love thinking about these things.. even though I have broken the rules on several. They are cathartic. Happy writing all.
ice sliding from leaves
my cheeks turning red from cold,
the morning smoke break.
half-moon halo glows
clouds rush by in sequenced steps,
snow is on the way
frozen dormant grass
sage brush dusted powder white
sun is barely there
i will break the rules
my friend gave me permission
to write from the heart
HELP! someone stop me,
I’m thinking in haiku form
something’s wrong with me!
OK, I woke up feeling silly, but it’s true…I keep thinking of haiku. counting syllables of lines of words, and when this dawned on me, I thought “this is crazy!”
(QM, it’s your fault, you told me that later we could break rules…just kidding, but you can see the progression of the 3 haiku above, from the serious to the ridiculous.) Anyway, I am having fun with haiku.
freespirit, welcome. I’m delighted you have jumped right in. “Ice sliding on leaves” and “clouds rush by in sequenced steps” - great visual lines. I hope you keep writing with us. I find the practice cathartic, too.
I stepped outside today in our yard to start the car (it’s -4 here today, -24 with the windchill) and there was haiku glowing all around me.
marylin, it’s so great that you’re having so much fun with these. I get silly with them, too. They are fun to write. And so grounding. Laughter is the best medicine. And to have laughter surface in haiku form - what better thing than that!
The “sage brush dusted powder white” - ah, what a lovely western image. We don’t get the same kind of sage here. I miss it.
Marylin, I forgot one more thing I wanted to mention about your comment (#22) - the “thinking in haiku” that happens when we write that kind of poetry, that’s part of the structure of the practice. And a part I love.
I find it very grounding. And comforting to know how few words we need to communicate the things that are important. Everything can be distilled down to its essence - it’s true nature.
QM, thanks for this post. You have given me a great introduction to the writing of haiku, all right here!
I love the idea of a haiku walk that opens up into writing. Sounds like an open space of serenity.
The haiku you show by Matsuo Basho is amazing - so much is said beyond the images. I started thinking about the messages between the lines, how they can be more palpable then the words that are said. The chrysathamums that grow in the spaces, the space between the breath, it goes on and on.
Thanks for this post! I’ll have to get into a haiku space more often.
Thanks for this definition. I’ve been taking a stab at Haiku on my poetry blog. I’m not sure I’m exactly following the rules, but I am busily having fun. My sense is the “balance” element is about paradox or contradiction.
C, your comment has such a peacefulness to it. The haiku walk, yes, it seems to create a space inside to write, a place to let something come in, inspired by the ordinary. All the things between the spaces are so important. Yet many times invisible. We really have to pay attention to see them.
For me, it’s so tempting to stay distracted (or frozen, one or the other) so that it becomes hard to see. I’m happy for any time I let myself practice and stay connected to what’s important to me. I hope you’ll post a haiku here once in a while. Would be lovely to see them.
TIV, I’m glad you’re having fun with the haiku. I like how Clark Strand describes that “balance” piece:
I don’t know if it’s as much a contradiction as a nice little surprise that happens when we let the space open up. For me at least, it’s not so much a thinking thing as it is something I don’t even understand. The best ones come when I don’t think too much. I hope you’ll come back and share a few of your haiku with us.
Thanks QM, Ditto Marylin regarding the “silly” feeling and counting. I also agree with QM about feeling grounded. I have just discovered the haiku, and the best part so far for me is I can compose one on the spot, in a very short time during breaks outside. Gives me a peaceful feeling. It was very cold this morning at the beach and as I stood on the balcony looking across at the roofline of the adjacent building this one popped out in about two minutes.
Orange hue glows soft
Where the roof line meets firewall,
Pre Sunrise Aura.
Have fun everybody.
freespirit, nice. I can see the aura at the bend of the line. I just finished watching a Lewis Hine documentary and was thus influenced. And then, well, a short walk outside.
puffs of child labor
Lewis Hine photographs life
no one wants to see
ironman on steel beam
wind surge, bolts of light freezing
the Empire State’s skirt
snow flies in the face
of an innocent Flicker
polka dot feather
What a joy to return from my weekend trip to Durango, CO and find so many wonderful haiku poems posted here!
over mountain pass–
black ribbon of road unwinds
through snowy canyon
MEG
expectations freeze
health evaporates like frost–
cold reality
walls of dirty snow
lining highway, scraped by plows
over Wolf Creek Pass
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silver bird descends,
sound of breaking frozen air
incites sun dogs’ wrath!
noses to the ground
on the scent of recent game,
hiking with my dogs.
frost on a crow’s wing
beating heart frozen in lungs
water alchemy
When I came back and read this again, I wanted to change water to winter. Hmmm.
frost on a crow’s wing
beating heart frozen in lungs
winter alchemy
oliverowl, there have been 2 Sundogs here in the last few weeks. Liz snapped a few phone pics of one day before yesterday. I had never seen one before (that I remembered or knew what I was looking at). Really cool.
I went on a haiku walk this Sunday. I was weary from the preceding week, and feeling blue. I wrote the first haiku after twenty minutes of walking along the sidewalk in my town, and the second after an hour along the same sidewalk:
a distant sun pales
her heart turns to ice again
she walks searthing warmth
snow crusts drought-burned grass
cedar fingers graze thin clouds
hope shines from the sky
Thanks for this idea of creating space through a meditative or contemplative walk. Walking soothes the soul, for sure.
moon-wolf steals my sleep
his light arresting my dreams
cringe in fetal curl
i need to hear them
the voices of my children
manna for my soul
The two haiku I just posted have no connection…at least i didn’t mean for them to. Maybe the fates put them together, knowing i am feeling very lonely.
mariachristina, your haikus spoke to me, very eloquent. Hi all, amazing writing, I am in the company of literary geniuses.
as a cold wind blows
brushwood waves gently wand like,
a brisk winter day.
QM, I like the second one much better, excellent change in wording.. means so much more, IMHO
Welcome, freespirit!
Here’s one for today:
faucets and noses
drips pounding in woken dreams
wet and cold and hard
C, I loved that you added the timing of the minutes into your walk when you wrote each haiku. That added a richness for me about the practice of walking and writing. Creating space. I noticed the futher along in the walk, how the focus shifts outside to the cedar and a hope that creeps in. I hope your blues have lightened since last week. Thank you for sharing. And to Clark Strand and Natalie, gratitude for passing down this practice.
marylin, I like your two haiku together. And loneliness, the old Black Dog. I remember a write I did about it. Natalie talks about the Black Dog of loneliness in Bones. It reminded me of a series of art work a friend had worked on. Here’s the link to that post if you’re interested: Listen for the Black Dog (LINK).
freespirit, I so enjoy when you stop by. It makes me smile. I like the brushwood, wand like. And now I want to know what brushwood is.
yb, noses & facets, oh, feel better yb!
QM, my blues lifted during the walk - you read the haiku the way I experienced it- as a lifting of my spirits.
I’m enjoying everyone else’s poems as well. Some are very intimate, with small details close to home, others are expansive. Good for the soul kind of writing.
I’ll be back tomorrow after my haiku walk. A nice Sunday haiku space might turn into a new winter tradition.
yb, clever use of metaphor, I liked that.
Thanks QM, I am so glad you put together this blog. Everyones writing brings me peace, it’s as if I am there on their walks. If I may, allow me to quote from a book I am reading, “The only way we know it’s true is that we both dreamed it. That’s what reality is. It’s a dream everyone has together.” f/ Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides pg. 343
shot like an arrow
red fox bolts from a thicket
all thats left, a streak.
as a cold wind howls
one lone leaf flips on its side,
where is my warm mate?
freespirit, I like that definition of reality - a dream everyone has together. Community. Thank you for the quote. It looks like a totem has shown up in your haiku - the fox. I can feel the pause in the “streak.” Some friends of mine have recently spotted a fox near their pond. She brings them great joy. You don’t often see them in the daylight, as they are nocturnal hunters. They are such beautiful animals.
in Noble Silence
except loud crunching chorus:
Buddhists eating nuts
empty snow pocket
coffee stokes the frosty morn
counting, cedars breathe
cold winter morning
half-moon shines in ink black sky–
missing my children
on the forest floor,
lasered sunbeams through branches
strike morning light pools
icicle dangles
42 to -4
rivers turn to dams
Okay, I went outside over lunch and found out pretty quickly that I need to make a slight alteration on my haiku for today. Brrrrrr….those wind chills.
friendly amendment
-40 and dropping
tear ducts turn to stone
engine slowly cranks
glass fogs in snowflake patterns
oil as thick as blood
clouds drip toward the ground
suffocating from here, inside
the 5th floor window
steering wheel stiffens
finch whistling, crooked oak branch
ice scraper tongue curls
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in Palm Springs airport
black birds walk through terminal
people wait to fly
lunchtime murmur, “skin and bones”
here at the OK corral
three words float to me
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This is a lovely blog find. For a long while I did a daily haiku/photo on my photoblog. Got away from that, but I think I may need to re-instate it. BTW I recognize a lot of company on your blogroll. Can I hang around a bit?
nib dipped in black ink
pen to paper scrawling words
writers communing
barbara, welcome. Photos and haiku just seem to go together somehow. Good practice, too. Glad you see some friends on our blogroll. Please join us anytime.
—————-
wet snow, waffle sole
traversing the parking lot
on my way back home
writing project looms
Wednesday frost, a day of rest
got to get to work
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Flamingos roosting
midstream turn away from me
photo resistant.
See the fore-mentioned flamingos at
http://gardengrow.wordpress.com/2008/02/07/finding-a-flurry-of-flamingoes/
another cold day–
body craving warm spring sun
to bring sad heart hope
cats roam the house wild
I scrape the icy windshield
spring runs in their blood
What a lovely idea. Three rather different haiku from a walk in my local park today:
Salt dries on my cheeks.
Crystals I must brush away
Memories of lost love
Starving seagulls shriek
Flailing white wings struggle. Why?
Just a bit of bread.
Neat red-scalloped feet
Black water jewelled feathers
Moorhens just paddle
Jessica, welcome - 3 wonderful haiku. Made me realize, too, I have no idea what a moorhen is (?).
And I wanted to say to everyone how much I am enjoying all the haiku. It is a great mix of flowing poetry, a few comments here and there, old friends and new readers, popping in and out. Really lovely.
—–
flurries mid-morning
bare branches bend in the wind
blanket of stone gray
remembering taos
slow walking d h lawrence ranch
q m by my side
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Little one flits above
swinging feeder filled with seed
Junco in wind storm
bo
Wyoming — A Haiku Poem
Wyoming wind sucks
energy and life from me
fueling its fury
third day of high winds
cold, bone-jarring, nerve rattling–
why do I live here?
antelope grazing,
wide blue skies, open prairie:
reasons to remain
written after a drive from Powell, going west to Cody:
clouds rest on mountain
hanging a gossamer veil
of angels’ tear drops
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the darkness surrounds him
shivering silently alone
awaiting the warmth of knowledge
R3, welcome to haiku land.
The one you wrote is kind of unsettled like the one I wrote last week. It makes me want to know more.
More good haiku has appeared over the last week. I like the Wyoming trilogy, breathepeace. oliverowl, lovely. Isn’t driving one of the best places to write haiku? barbara, junco in windstorm - and the swinging feeder. How *do* they hang on?
—————
standing in a cloud
following my tracks through snow
to get to the car
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a marriage ended,
but it never really was,
we were pretending
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angle of the light
inimitably winter
against white houses
-8 rises
the pit of winter’s belly
white rings on the pond
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frigid cold, haiku
struggles to take off, falls down,
wings heavy with ice
restless mind stains paper
silent birds watch as thoughts explode
I smile as words take flight
beautiful haiku, R3, Jude, stranger, oliverowl.
—————-
crow wraps the ash branch
Pants cackles in the background
hungry for more Spring
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a little haiku humor derived from leafing thru a House Beautiful magazine; coming across a page full of wall sconces:
do not look askance
at a sconce upon a wall
that might make it fall
oliverowl, that’s a fun haiku. It reminds me of the limericks I heard at the Victorian Poetry slam a few weeks ago. There is a whimsy about it that makes me smile. Fun!
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qm, I like your moondog haiku, as well as the great photo!
from warm dunes of sand
destiny laughed and moved me
to cold drifts of snow
On snow dusted pine
crimson cardinals must wait
bluejays do not share
new day, no snow dust
bluejays must wait their turn now
the woodpecker rules
[...] to posts: haiku (one-a-day) and snow flying on ice (sound [...]
I have been an admirer of Natalie’s work since 1988 and was lucky enough to attend her workshop in Minneapolis in 1992. I mainly write plays although I did write a short (29 pages) memoir about a friend who died in 2005. The CD version of “Old Friend from Far Away” was invaluable in getting me started. Does anyone know whether the book is the same as the CD version or has it been expanded?
Anyway, here is a haiku from one of my early notebooks.
A white saltshaker
Beside its forever friend.
Do they ever fight?
Robert, welcome. And great haiku. The CD version of Old Friend from Far Away is completely different. My understanding of the new book is that it is as close a sequel to Writing Down the Bones as you can get. I think the title is rooted in Zen and somehow relates the CD and book, but they are not the same.
Here is something Natalie recently said about her new book, Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir (LINK):
The book is so much like her teaching. If you buy it, please come back and share with us. Hope you visit red Ravine again. And keep the pen moving!
To QuoinMonkey,
Thanks for the info. I will be purchasing the book shortly and will continue to look in on this site.
“Writing Down the Bones” as it was for so many others, was my introduction to Natalie’s work. It is simply the best book on and about writing I know.
[...] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day) [...]
My walker and I,
Busy creeping and creaking,
Both need a lube job.
Robert, your haiku have a playful quality to them. Thanks for joining us.
——————
spots of flaky snow
cats curl around the heater
shedding winter coats
[...] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day) [...]
spiders in the sky
weaving webs of fleecy white
will they catch rainbows?
tulip leaves poke up
from dirt in winter garden
testing for spring air
[...] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day) [...]
sunset’s rays approach
past bare spindly branches, as
pre-spring buds await
Hi Bones and QM,
freespirit, you’re back! So great to see your haiku again. I bet it’s quite spring-like in your neck of the woods. The season comes so much earlier there. Very lush. And the smells - the sweet smell of Spring. Makes me want to breathe a little deeper.
oliverowl & breathepeace, I like when, by chance, your haikus follow one another’s. I imagine you both looking out on the mountains out West (oh, how I miss the mountains!).
diddy, I like your diptych of haikus and the journey of the blue jay through each of them. I can picture the view from your kitchen window.
morning mother wakes
thin light cracking through the blinds
babe now deeply sleeps
nice, Linda. I just took a walk on my break. It is so beautiful outside. I’ve got Spring fever.
_______________________
north wind through my hair
slow walking the parking lot
crow grazes the moon
[...] to posts: haiku (one-a-day), Meet [...]
Craving the Last Laugh,
An empty, foolish vigil
For Victory’s dregs.
This one-a-day busines is tough. Would you believe one a week?
snowy Palm Sunday–
winter drags its sorry ass
right on into spring
Yes, one a day is a challenge…and led to this entry for Wednesday, March 12:
one haiku a day:
seventy-two completed
most of them are sh*t
Oh, but some days there is a freshness to the words and that “ahhh” pause is there that seems to live in a good haiku. Writing one a day helps create the space for the “ahhh” to arrive.
As soon as I got off the computer last night, I came up with what might be a better haiku on the subject I was struggling with during entry # 111. I wrote it down on what was available, an unused book marker. I qualified the “better” because it’s not necessarily up to me. But I do hope that this version does a “better” job of creating the space/leap between the second and third line which Natalie writes about.
A dubious goal:
Always getting the Last Laugh
That’s God’s department.
I’m inspired by your stick-to-it-iveness on writing one a day (or even one a week). These are great haikus. I do hear or see the ahh pause in them.
I sit and eat runts
a habit learned from children
rotting adult teeth
#113 — Yes! the leap is there.
Spring arrives early
Songbirds awaken my sleep
music for the mind
light snow blankets ground
on gray March prairie morning–
gone by afternoon
March moon is the crows’,
crows rose out of the corn field
Vincent left this life
listen! spring birds sing
survival songs in nature:
Chinese Tibetans
[...] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day) [...]
Some great haiku here. Love the back and forth with breathepeace, Robert, oliverowl, diddy. Steady as she goes.
Minnesota can’t decide if it’s spring or winter. She’s making up her mind.
_________________
soles sliding across
spring’s underbelly - frozen
mud hard as a rock
plastic shopping bag
waves from a cottonwood branch:
urban foliage
mysteriously
five, seven and five again,
draws us back and back
breathepeace, nice! the urban foliage got me.
stranger, are you blogging again? did I miss something?
going was coming
for the ancient ones, QM,
I am back -
to front
(Is this a haiku?)
“is this a haiku?”
WOW, yes! 94stranger–
a very good one
hi, haiku stranger
it’s been a long winter
sad to see it go
glad to have you back
the ancient ones are smiling
stranger’s among friends
[...] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day) [...]
Winter says good-bye
with final breath ,”Welcome Spring”
Earth’s belly explodes
what is a cliche?
lazy communication
dive in deep word-pool
[...] to posts: haiku (one-a-day), WRITING TOPIC - INSECTS & SPIDERS & BUGS, OH [...]
You know what’s cool about all these haiku? You can see and feel the seasons change when you follow the thread. It’s great.
It’s still snowing here. Unbelievably beautiful outside. I can’t wait to go for a walk. My camera battery is charging.
______________
2nd day of spring
the world is covered in white
velvet underground
Good Friday full moon:
bright light shines on dark soul night
illuminates hope
in bitter north wind
sun-starved trees and people try
remembering spring
Do we have some past-life Japanese among us? This is strangely addictive.
P.S. Does anyone know if there is something archetypal about 5-7-5 - or is it purely a convention that we now all adhere to?
P.P.S. I like it because it’s SHORT - suits my attention span -writing and reading, both.
as for brevity -
inimitable virtue,
longing for shorting
Snow in the forecast
robin snow is our Spring snow
no need for concern
94stranger, I came upon several Haiku in my Whole Whog Catalog ( a humorous attempt at the” Whole Earth Catalog” which was quite popular in the the late 60’s & early 70’s) though not in season, here is on