previous seasons
-------spring --------------summer ------------ autumn ----------- winter -----

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succeeding season
Autumn 2009 @ our new website The Four Seasons of Haiku

Friday, October 16, 2009

end of long week
getting rid of clutter
and bad energy

Thursday, October 15, 2009

topography of dreams
thick and heavy
I carry through the day
like stones in a pocket --

Monday, August 31, 2009

summer visit
an old friend discusses
his speed dating

dead-heading roses
a yellow blossom
for my hair

a background
of blues -
clouds improvising
summer fades to fall
pulling up the blanket
to ward off night's chill
summer's end
a racehorse runs behind its shadow
arum maculatum
in his orange breeches
red dogwood stems

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Leaves in the pool
drifting colours
time to pull the plug

pulling up the sheet-
didn't know you had gone til
my calves lost their heat

summer left
without saying goodbye-
waking up
in the cool morning,
my arms holding a pillow
end comes
sweet summer time
autumn draws twilight
goldenrod flutters
its lacy fingers waving
goodbye to summer
a rough sea
breaks on the beach,
a thousand
knots unravelling
in my weary head
between grey depths
of sea and sky
a white sail rides the wind
all night listening
under a canvas skin
to the tail of a hurricane
snail trails
over the bird table -
a fat thrush watches

Saturday, August 29, 2009

high grass -
an ant in the jungle
of my leg hairs


herbes hautes -
une fourmi dans la jungle
des poils de ma jambe
nearing my birthday
I meet my uncle 'brother'
for just the first time
blowing in -
dandelion clock's last day
Victoria plums
succulent from weeks of rain
A61 lay-by

Friday, August 28, 2009

crickets sing old songs
fill cool late summer breezes
marigolds bright blooms

strolling through summer

along city streets the joys of strolling through summer
twist of willow leaf
the thin limb --
homeless woman's stare
cobwebs shimmer;
Fuchsia's pink ballerinas
fall to the ground

Thursday, August 27, 2009

tiny spider
spins its yarns
I walk by --
tranquility interrupted
supermarket run
Halloween candy displays
next to summer sale aisle
from the front door
bird hops besides me
to the car
frog plopping
into the pond
disturbing the stars

summer over

summer over
at the end of the bridge
no looking back

photo: emily lin
mandy smith

First published on Summer Haiku 2007
the garden
full of thistledown
sunlight through
yellowed raspberry leaves;
swifts on telephone lines

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

small hours–
a light summer breeze tilts
the crow's call

6am  and very quiet except for one bird calling, and a crow's almost tentative response.

Photo Haiga

From this shore
our tale begins
photo and the haiku
A new site with an old idea please join

August evening -
a cool beer by looking for
the Great Bear


soirée d'août -
une bière fraîche en cherchant
la Grande Ourse

in the war zone
a new song rising
in my spirit
horse chestnut leaves
with strange brown blotches

the sound of nails

on fencewood - a squirrel pours

into the garden

Bindweed trumpets
buddleia's faded mauves
summer fades
cool rain patters
on an up-turned bucket --
yellow daisies weep

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

morning break
touch of coolness in the air
filled with birdsong
dying leaf
waiting to fall--
summer's end
across the river
a dance-band:
couples fishtail and glide

Monday, August 24, 2009

fresh blackberries
glistening with morning dew
pots of hot jam
afternoon commute
fruit vendor hawking his wares
flies surround the cut melon
on the cusp

between seasons;

neither here . . . nor there
early morning heat
leans upon my back --

worms rise up from
earthy beds

august heat simmers
sleepy sun sets
yellow orange skies
on the breeze
three cabbage whites

Sunday, August 23, 2009

reading Hiroaki Sato's
erotic haiku anthology
summer heat

Hiroaki Sato’s ”Erotic Haiku” ISBN 4-89684-020-8
Stonebridge Press:
Christening morning -
the clematis
sprinkles me with drops

On the south patio
sitting with a cold beer
listen to the towns’ rock festival
summer fire
crocosmia's crests
still stand proud

Saturday, August 22, 2009

children playings
in a nearby garden
- august twilight


jeux d'enfants
dans un jardin voisin
- crépuscule d'août

I’m trying; God knows I’m trying.


Now for something a little different, click me!
like tinnitus
in sunny afternoon garden

* * *

kuin tinnitus
puutarhan iltapäivässä
open window
brave postman
snarling dog

Friday, August 21, 2009

five green leaves
fall in tumbling sunlight
toward summer's end

back-lit leaf

the tree frog’s foot shadow darkens

algae bloom
the green frog jumps
into my green pond

bouts of flash rainfall–
too humid for a raincoat
I eat some pretzels

wheat and gluten free pretzels (and more):

a hawthorn -
like little red apples
in the rain
hammering a tree trunk
a woodpecker
takes over the valley
swirling wind
the blossoms
haiga - nightshade
fresh morning scent
overnight rain
cat prints on counters

Thursday, August 20, 2009

after the rain
sprouted grass in the lawn
cats' tails flicking

ozone alert -
my evening footing
with small strides


alerte à l'ozone -
mon footing du soir
à petites foulées

perfect wedding -
the wonky bow
on her home-made dress

Karen Hoy
Blithe Spirit Vol. 12 No. 3 (September 2002)
roadworks at dawn
walking home
in my evening dress

Karen Hoy
Blithe Spirit Vol. 12 No. 3 (September 2002)
nettle sting
the breeze can't console
my burning leg
riverside trees
toppled -
fish through the branches
brisk wind
plums fall from trees
spattered lawns

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

evening commute
wipers keep time with the radio
children skip in the rain
thrum of grooved pavement
a tuneless syncopation --
highway lullaby
dark river -
from a bird
a heart-breaking song

(for Billie Holiday)
library cafe --
we swap lost key stories
as my coffee cools

• Presence haiku magazine #32 (2007) ISSN 1366-5367
• Tinywords.com 27th July 2007
• St Ambrose University, Iowa, U.S.A. O’Keefe Library at SAU April 2007 The O’Keefe Brief


night rainforest
somewhere a treefrog
to a pocket pen

n.b. Mission Beach, Queensland (night rainforest walk)
Summer in Australia is different months. ;-)
not knowing what to do
with his belly button fluff -
I put it back

British Haiku Society Members Anthology 2002
Hub Haiku Series ISBN 1-903746-26-4

in the cool of the ladies
four identical faces -
twins check their make-up

Karen Hoy
Blithe Spirit Vol. 12 No. 3 (September 2002)

n.b. 'cool' is a kigo for Summer
a new month -
different seeds
on the spaniel's ears

Karen Hoy
The Haiku Calendar 2003
Snapshot Press ISBN 1-903543-05-3
in the hedgerow
nightshade jewels

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

dog day afternoon
petal droops from rosebush
folks cross the street slowly
a wasp's nest - screams
from the slowest runner

the scent of mimosa
catches one
after the fact -- a bit like love
farmers' market
a watermelon rolls off
the cycle cart

Siena rooftops
sketching the shapes
in my mind

Karen Hoy
pub. Yomiuri Shimbun 2004
(Japanese newspaper, circulation 10 million readers)
Go-Shichi-Go Haiku in English / Using poetic color in haiku
long dry season –
the last flower
a baboon snack

Karen Hoy
Snapshot Press Haiku Calendar

n.b. the long dry season runs through June to September into October.
Tanzania weather and season patterns: Expert Africa weblink

crowded carriage
the breeze around
a lone ragwort

Karen Hoy
The Haiku Calendar 2003
Snapshot Press ISBN 1-903543-05-3

n.b. the ragwort season arrives in the early part of the Summer

of the dead mouse
warm green grass
in the cemetery
calls to me
morning air
waiting for rain

Monday, August 17, 2009

of bumping umbrellas -
stream of bright flotsam
veins of rust
trickle down granite face --
sweet peas press for intimacy
dog day afternoon
first hand knowledge for concept
of melting
Lavender spikes
bending under stress -
bumble bees

Sunday, August 16, 2009

without wings--
two flying ants
two juggernauts
winner’s circle
golf proYang lifts the blue sky

*PGA Golf Champianship
grabbing and strangling
the curb -
tree root
night rain -
ink-blot patterns
on pavements

Saturday, August 15, 2009

the path crack

spilling ants - mopped up

by a waiting wren

grey sky

a white butterfly

dodges raindrops

stiff breeze
cools night air --
curtains billow

Friday, August 14, 2009

night squalls
in the foliage of oaks
- nude at the window


rafales de nuit
dans le feuillage des chênes
- nu à la fenêtre


neon green grasshoppers
bump weary raspberry stalks
summer picks up speed

seeded from next-door
a poppy blooms
under leaden skies

Thursday, August 13, 2009

on the todo list
making pickles
from freshly picked cukes
the sweat on my brow -
a brisk wall after
it rained
abruptly start the fight
after a walk
on slippery hallway
hand in hand
pale moon rides
the rim of trees
pearled edge of lunacy --

* * *

a note of contempt
thrusts forward
conversation dies --
a termite
climbing up the tomb--
my father's grave
sour-fleshed apples -
slugs and wasps
make homes

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

sticky night-
explaining to the kitties
we can't cuddle tonight
afternoon rain,
a picnic spoiled --

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

warm morning
cats stretch twice as long
before rousing
one black ant scurries
across a cream white
constellation --

queen anne's lace
enormous yew
white clover in the grass
fades to a ghost
old man's beard
flowers in chain-link

Monday, August 10, 2009

summer drizzle--
a flock flutter through
the rainbow
blue cracks the sky
birdsong filling the air
when the front door opens

August Berries

bright beads
ripen on the
Rowan Tree

August Berries by David
sunny afteronon
no rent for hike this year
lightness in my step

dart across the water
a bluer blue
butterflies in a line -
a conga
through the garden


Lost in mirror
models in lingerie:
summer rain

across the rose petal
yellow beads roll
...cascade transparently

The End of Summer

summer's end
approaching with the speed
of longing

This blog will close on 31st August 2009. Autumn Haiku will open on 1st September. All participants of this blog will be invited to join Autumn by Beatrice, who is also looking for someone to help out with running it. Please contact me or her if you're interested.

Thank you.
spatter like bullets;

Sunday, August 9, 2009

on the beach
she feels overdressed
and changes her bikini
to a thong
I remember
the New Bridge,
old stone arches,
green hillside beyond.
Turning away
from the Sun
Sunflower field
protect the future

surprise family visit
the late afternoon gleam
on homemade chocolate
morning sunshine --
an old man cane-taps
through silent streets

Saturday, August 8, 2009

tree swallows shifting through the wing beat's sound


evening pétanque -
the little girl
counts stars


soirée pétanque -
la fillette
compte les étoiles

in the garden
apples blushing
empty greenhouse --
the last bedding

Friday, August 7, 2009

4 am

deserted street
a single cry
carried on the chill breeze
clutch of crows
rest in the iris blue shadows
of twilight --
mad dog heat
buckets of rain
batter tomatoes --

Thursday, August 6, 2009

warm rainy morning
finally getting to sleep
as the alarm sounds
washed and wrung dry

hung on the washing line -discoloured

--sunset, after the rain

Red deer hidden
in the brown crust
of dry grasses

Photo Patrolling Red Stag by bbodien
honeysuckle and nightshade
clamber over archways
bright red berries

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

midday break
enjoying the sun's warmth
and bubbling brook's spray
morning commute
the smell of fresh cut lawns
fills the car
trailing from clouds above
to dark yews

enough time away
to find that sense of humor
winking in the sand

sad pergola
after the rain
battered lavender

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

lazy evening
single fly circles
neighbors' trash can
summer storm -
the sweet smell between
my rabbit's ears.

in the birdbath

a dash of lime -


lemon leaf fall

more on the windowsill

than the plant

light breeze
towels on the line
summer rain

Monday, August 3, 2009

shriek overhead -

5 am

across the deer park
patches of mist –
the ghosts of dawn
pink stench
of Himalyan Balsam -
rumpled roots
cradle a drift of petals

the wind shifts
geese carve the sky --
weekend drive
blue sky laced with clouds
brings me to tears
the combine
thunders through the barley
a toy lion watches
another sunday
of one hundred degree heat
far away...

otro domingo
con calor de cien grados
...truenos lejanos

Sunday, August 2, 2009

around a Lammas fire

end of summer
more cucumbers
than neighbors
buddleia -
a cloak of royal purple
turns brown

Saturday, August 1, 2009

on the lawn
around three candles they talked
late into the night


clear summer day
I make plans
without you--
do you miss them, these days
we never spent together?

wilting herbs

the glint of a knife leaves
a little mizzle

mizzle: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/mizzle
cherry and willow
compete for height -
convolvulus cares not

Friday, July 31, 2009

childhood beach house
the wind ripples the dune
midday downpour-
black eyed susan floating
in swollen river
torrential rains -
in the absence of bird songs
thunder peals
blue sky -
a crucifix
of vapour trails

Thursday, July 30, 2009

thin slips of fire and passion
the glad and the lily --
garden dance!

midday ride
enjoying peach hibscus blooms
during lumber run
empty wine-bottle -
for a cork
tomatoes ripen
under lashing rain -

Wednesday, July 29, 2009


loops of seawater
tide circles . . Mobius style
nautilus spirals

walking to the car
white hibiscus blooms
poking through the gate
I’m bankrupt! I have “writer’s block”. I’m reclusive because I can’t get a job interview and just keep looking on the net. So, to cheer me up I thought that I would share some oldies. I hope you like them; I did:

the light goes out
with the tide

evening shower
the cricket chirps once

fishing village
the bow lanterns fade
in the dawn
a break in the rain -
rude awakening;
the clatter of a dustcart,
empty bins

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

original photography by K.M.

car roof catches
the roses of sunset
that spill
from the sky above --

Kelly M.

first light
day creeping up
the dew slicked grass

Wounded blue sea,
a minor wave is trying
to take its last breath

Angeliki K.

(photo by me)
elder berries
bulging bright
...sparrows' eyes
lavender spikes --
bumble bees
dodging snails

Monday, July 27, 2009

wind through the trees -
the ragged edge
of a blackbird's song
family reunion
seeing faces like my own
over great barbecue

I met my father's family for the first time last week
morning rush
he sips his tea
eyes flashing
in the undergrowth -
a hungry cat

Sunday, July 26, 2009

2 am

still now -
rows of blank houses
and defiant foxes watching

still summer night
the taste of my daughter's sweat
as I kiss her brow
tiny flowers
and caterpillars
among fennel's liquorice leaves

Saturday, July 25, 2009

important words
a cabbage butterfly circles
my universe

Even a single word is poetry, please take a moment to visit:

all my very best,

outside the exam-hall
the passion flower's
the sardine's eyes
morning shadows
and the remnants of the dew -
snails race the sun

Friday, July 24, 2009

from jenny on my 50th

may years like soft rain
fall upon you, a lake
of rising wonders

eventually I realise
Sinatra sang his evergreens
off key
since my child's laughter
in a long distance call
azure afternoon
from an accent I guess
it's my new sister


(Alan note: my new baby sister (well, of 40 years) phones me on my mobile phone out of the blue!)

1 am

humid blue night -
close together watching
Play Misty For Me
Hail! these electric spiders

storming over the sky,-

soft tinkles of window glass
fallen leaf
on the still pond--
ripples a moment

Thursday, July 23, 2009

ground spattered
with husks of raspberries;
sparrows linger

3 am

a flickering patchwork
of shadows -
moths around a street light
a red tail held high
in the undergrowth -
a fat cat emerges

the sun reappears
a lonely football
waits in the gutter
perfect summer

I talk to my mother
I've never seen

(Alan note:
I just finished phoning my mother in Perth, Australia having being given my mother's number by my new uncle.

I have never seen my family, but I hope to see my new half-sister. She just so happens to be currently working in London not far from my London event!)

Alan's Trafalgar Square Living Statue Weblink: Alan's Fourth Plinth


Silent mosquitoes
flying over my body--
slap hands together

butterfly summer--
yellow confetti
fall from heaven

Image source http://7art-screensavers.com/screenshots/butterfly/yellow-butterfly.jpg
summer vacation -
camp-fire smoke
rising to the moon

(winner Carribean kukai #5:summer vacation)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

mother's scent -
bees harvest lavender
under cloudless skies


the sound of a train
two miles west


familiar songs in my ears,

and yet another hits

- this time it's my neck
again the fragrance
of buddleia -
summer never forgets

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

pendulous clouds
and the geraniums bob
to music of the wind

small mouth surfacing
sprays me with laughter
pool-side service

and then come the seeds
rapidly fired
sticky sun kisses

the best part is the end
when we hold up our jars
casting light freckles

conclude the day
the cranes inhale the sunset

Monday, July 20, 2009

threatening to tumble:
heavy stormclouds and
motorbikes on slopes

Summer Morning

birds shelter in trees

morning rain drops on green grass

nourishment from God.
retired -
watching apples
busy reddening
an orphan leaf
slithers with the evening wind

Sunday, July 19, 2009

early sunshine
salmontail flowers twisting
in a light breeze
the dog sniffs
the thin air

than the rainclouds
:the dust

*Jakarta shocked by bombing at Ritz Carlton and JW Marriot Hotel, Thursday, July 16, 2009. In solidarity to the casualties.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

rain patters
flower pots and garden ponds

running the cool grass
I am called by fountains
and remember joy

street festival
three lads try to scam haiku
for free chocolate

Woolley Street Festival:

car park pothole
the mum watches the boy
in and out of a puddle

Still Pond Richmond Park

at the still pond even my watch stopped

graceful hunter takes flight
the skies call her name--
sunfish in her belly
fallen rose petal -
a tiny ant
climbs a red mountain
a lull in rainfall
worker bees take advantage
Knapweed's golden suns

Friday, July 17, 2009

his welcome back kiss...
two days apart still too long
warm summer evening

Summer Storm

from a different sky
petals unfolding
even under a summer storm
flowers bloom
what have you done to my heart,
closed even to the bright sun?
while the midnight sky
tore itself apart
with lightning -
my barefoot children
danced in the puddles
tide -
a swan rocking

Thursday, July 16, 2009

persistent rain
fills my ears with the sound
of growing weeds
dark and straight
gets longer after lunch
:the flagpole's shadow

we caught a glimpse
in the wandering night
a limp vine strung on bark

my aunt indignant 
loosestrife planted by neighbour
the weed

sweet ebony rose
grows far from all
it's silver thorn
sharp and unforgiving
summer blues
blogger accuses poets
of spamming

maturing pears
when sunset blush echoes
finches gather

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river dusk
a moth follows the light

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

spikes of crocosmia
heating dry pavement;
powder blue sky
Blogger thinks
summer haiku is spam;
No! Luncheon meat at best.

please be patient -
and word verification

at midday the deer
cluster under the shadows
of ancient oaks

Photo by r0b1
morning commute
dew rimed melon roses
glisten in the sun
the night sky thunders/yelping dogs/reply
back to the sunset

the song of the blackbird

in the sunflower field

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

grey sky
purple buddleia
the blessed cool of rain

this winking sun
an invasion of mushrooms
forced to drip dry

I do not hunt words
but gather sprinkles of mind-play
while chasing fireflies


Still night
nude kisses in park
images haunt

afternoon break
warm air behind the shop
filled with honeysuckle
pale dusk--
grandma keeps on gazing
at the wall calendar

midnight commute
wisps of white curl in the sky
pointing the way home
the ancient sun lies down
in a bed of roses
quiet pool
a tiny petal falls -
a shiver throughout...

Monday, July 13, 2009

Sparrow song as
clover flowers
tickle bare feet

at last summer!
thirsty grass crackles
under my feet

too late I find you
curled tight at the tips
sprung from a crack

midnight gardener
darkens the lavender
mists the moon

through the night
moon travels across my room
and sleep eludes me

I come to you empty and sorrowful
take me back, take me back on this warm summer's night

I had been away....along time
joyful, I see the day lilies that rim the yard
so much missed, so much lost

hot flesh melts in the raw sun
she reaches out for him
his skin slick with oil
golden god and goddess of youth

the sky is blue today
summer has come at last
perfume fills the air
flowers bloom in hot sun

Cool Summer

cool summer wet light rain
oh, where is the warmth of my youth?
here and there
under dappled green leaves
red plums are glowing


purple clematis
so dark it swallows sunlight
in a velvet embrace

in the shadows
something darker -
purple clematis

Photo Purple Clematis by KTDEE
monastery garden -
heads bent

(winner sketchbook kukai: sunflowers)
Yellow poppies,
their unblinking eyes
stare at the sun

Sunday, July 12, 2009

afternoon heat
the mountain's shadow spreads
on the water
Standing in the doorway--
Dark silhouette of a man;
Fireflies glitter.
in moonlight
my eyes finger your body
like braille
skimming texture
before laying hold of meaning.
summer foot bridge
a water rat sniffs near my shadow
Cool air and damp grass;
pigeons cooing in the trees,
buddleia flowers

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Breaking the Law

nuns -
leaving morning Mass


Wrote these lines today on the back of my sales receipt while having dessert, after a late lunch in a neighborhood buffet restaurant. Probably still thinking of "In the name of love" poems I recently posted here. Being a wordsmith that I am, my poetic persona meandered to a familiar magical place where the past and the present meshes into one. With just a little bit of remembered lives or events, an avalanche of words spews out from nowhere and weaves themselves into a poem. Like this one.

the entwined ivy
and blooming rose
reach for the sun
the entanglements
of forbidden love
Wall Street Churchyard
worms pass through crabapple petals
My little boy, Afrizal Hasbi Azizy, was hospitalised for tonsilectomy on Saturday (July 11, 2009) morning. When he was escorted out of the operation room, I saw him crying so painfully. He uses to be brave and afraid of almost nothing. But that morning, I saw the tears rolled down on his face. It happened just 5 days before his 8th birthday; the day he's been thinking about in the last three months, the day he'll be expecting a set of Pokemon card as his birthday present from his mother. I won't be able to be home on the big day to hug him with love, and to surprise him with another given away.

firefly in a cookie jar--
a dream birthday present
for a wounded boy

summer stigmata

everyday she wears

a new bite

with a shimmer

ants ascend - above

the gulls circle

a solitary bee
the aching blossoms
payment for yesterday's sun:
Blackberry flowers are whiter
than today's clouds

Friday, July 10, 2009

spilling rose petals
the rose
reveals itself.
summer sunset
bistro table reflects tint
merlot goblet

through the window
white rimmed red petunias
dancing in the breeze
yesterday's rain--
a prolific blossom fall
today's crepe jasmins

first published at Wordchimes July 7th 2007
elegant duck -
beneath the surface
furious paddling
Lavender spikes
twisted into spirals -
the wind drops

In the name of love

she gunned him
as she can't bear
to share her lover
then she killed

mystery solved
he disappeared
only to admit later
he's with his other love
in Brazil

Thursday, July 9, 2009

for ellie

palest rosebud
nestled in her own softness
newborn's milky dream

I wasn't sure
which sparkled more
the snagged fish or your smile

trembling butterfly
alights upon me softly
haiku's first line

evening wind rocking treetops
...a distant lullaby
early commute
the moon racing me
over the hills
summer break
I sense the silent ticking
of the hotel wall clock
it's the same place
but without you

Wind Tonight

wind tonight
in the empty chimney
the cricket’s song echoes
how long has it been
how long, how long…
sun and raindrop,
after the storm, lie quietly
--on the the same leaf
after the storms
unfolding from a green leaf
the scent of rain

a crack on the ceiling,
the rain drops into the beat
of the wall clock
mona lisa's glimpse--
a rosebud unfolds
after the rain
Lavender spikes
whipped by chill breeze;
lovers caress

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

end of house sitting
sun pulsating
as I drive back home
heat lightning -
in the nearby street


éclairs de chaleur -
des éclats de voix
dans la rue voisine

Have a nice summertime et rendez-vous en août
the river writes its name in gold -

before the storm
launched the steel-framed hammock
ingratiating calm

unyielding steamy
press of summer
strange how I miss you

emerging from work
I burn my feet on concrete
summer's welcome pain

for a moment,
the waves show
the water beneath
barefoot children -
over hot stones
a little jig
late summer -
on this day of glimmering sea
and sky
I've become
the wind's song

Modern English Tanka V3 No4 Summer 2009
ripen in hanging baskets;
globes of delight

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

sunset -
trees recede into
shift from hell....
deep breath of honeysuckle
soothing taut nerves

evening commute
the slow and scenic route home
to leave work behind

over fresh green grass
under the cool shade of trees
my four dogs napping

wrapped in night's sheer veil
ripened luna waits
leaking gold dust

awaits a rickshaw
under the gulmohar tree
a girl with lilac

Rain pours
from an indifferent sky.
Strawberries in window boxes.

Monday, July 6, 2009

house sitting-
rabbit bolts from the garden
as I start the sprinkler

for Marivie

now I know
why our embrace
was so tight
your last farewell
to fleeting life
among the white
one pink waterlily
fills the pond

Pamela A. Babusci
previously published
crossing the moonbridge
under starry skies
July wind & i

Pamela A. Babusci

Mainichi Daily Haiku Japan
July, 2, 2009
beyond your voice
i sit
in silence
in two worlds
with and without you.
evening kimono
pools at my feet
i imagine your eyes
a fugue of stars
a world of forward glances.
bindweed flowers, beauty
but no scent
Floating down the river:
A burlap sack
full of sorrow
between the clouds:
...silent explosion
This morning
a shimmering rainbow
silver shower

Grey skies
with the promise of rain.
Fresh-picked raspberries.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Tour de France

It wouldn't be summer without Le Tour and two days ago the cyclists mounted their trusty steeds in Monaco. They are now cycling through Provence in the direction of Marseilles and will cross into Spain and arrive in the beautiful city of Barcelona. From there the route will take them up into the Pyrenees and back into France...and that's just the first week. In three weeks time they will arrive in Paris. It's a great event, and I love it. I'm following it on TV but I've been fortunate enough to have seen it live in the Alps a couple of times. Let's hope that the doping controls work effectively again and that any cheats are swiftly caught. Chapeau!

the bicyle race
through the sunflower fields,
the shadows on the road
Listening all night for
missing drops of water
surviving only deep roots
attempted robbery

a festival writer in residence
sits it out

I was a writer in residence for Frome Festival (U.K.) last Saturday, at a lovely bookshop, while a friend of mine was in a jewellery shop. While I had lots of people coming up to me (one image on Facebook) and asking what I was writing, the guys in the jewellery shop were doing the opposite.

Grey sky
like aluminium foil.
White poppies wilt.
full grown
the bracken
swallows sign posts, park benches, Fallow deer

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Tonight the Thames
carves a translucent jade bowl
out of the July rose moon

shuffling with a walker
her smile explodes -
independence day

the smell of the night sky
Clear sky, morning heat -
The scent of lavender
on the breeze.

Friday, July 3, 2009

the ladder on the trunk
of the cherry tree
- rising moon


l'échelle appuyée
au tronc du cerisier
- lune montante
after the kiss
dew glistening
on the petals.
early morning
pulling weeds and deadheading shrubs
to center myself

Kandiserede hybenrosenblade
smagen af lykkelig barndom
smelter på ganen


Candied Dog Rose petals
taste of happy childhood
melting on my tongue
Canopy of grey
seals in the stink
of tarmac and sweat.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

evening drive
melon sun shimmering
over the duck pond


In memory of Ed Mcmahon, Farrah Fawcett,
Michael Jackson, and Karl Malden

a series of shocks
rocks Tinsel town
who's next in line

a Hollywood script
has a beginning, middle
and ending
after the show is done
its essence still remains

with differing
allure and aura
the stars brightened
touched and entertained
our mundane lives

we basked
in their triumphs
and wept
at their failures
what a ride, what a ride

one by one
they arrived
one by one they left
thanks for the memories
we all mourn your deaths

Victor P. Gendrano
Author of: Rustle of bamboo leaves
how futile!
to try to count the furls
of these rose petals

First published at webworks Haiku
For Diana (Another version and that's it folks, no more)

grandma's ranting
the weak wipers no match
to the relentless rain
dead in the grass
a bee --its wings
gilding my fingers
stifling heat -
the occasional whirr
of dragonfly wings
summer thunderstorm
as lightening splits the night sky
the cats snuggle closer
in the black plastic bag -
bloated maggots
blackbird trilling
through the trees
a stream
on the patio
a warm teacup half empty
and the rocking chair

To Diana: Thx for the grammatical correction.
No clouds today.
Air is heavy with the scent
of mock orange.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

blinded again
by uncompromising rain
and these weak wipers

afternoon musical
keyboard staccato and
birdsong legato
home alone
the garden shredder
jams up

* * *

yksin puutarhassa
oksasilppurin terä
leikkaa kiinni
after rainy week
knee high weeds
growing through the gate
For Beatrice

how long
shall I wait for
your empty promise
after winter chill
or summer heat
For Gwilym

a commotion
in the sidewalk
for a tossed quarter
voiceless victims
of society's failings
For Nora

a cap and gown
crowd his empty room
postponed graduation
Overnight rain
raises humidity.
Unripe plums wither.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

burning interstate--
a fast car speeding through
the curved air

Indian Communication

an orange envelope,
twelve roses and a heron°
air mailed from Dhanbad

°in reality a crane
Walking down the tree-lined street to the unemployment office in Hammonton, I think about what I will do when the checks run out.

sun bright sidewalk
a dead opossum’s litter on its nipples
the empty office
glazed with sunlight
incubating paper

quavering heat
cicadas cry
in tempo
Hot tarmac
and diesel fumes.
Strawberries in pots.

Monday, June 29, 2009

bees have returned
to the ixoras -
a June morning

in a nimbus of midges
river baptism
morning toilette
cat slowly flicks his tail
on the windowsill

morning walk
first peppers on the vine

morning drive
gazanias rising from
jet black mulch

walking around the town

there are places where tourists are guided and other places they have to find for themselves, assuming they have the time and inclination to explore our great cities

in the underground train station

the open case

the same old song

in the main shopping street

the paper coffee cups

and the gold and copper coins

two drunks slur and shout

over somethin' and nothin'

found in the litter bin

these days I can’t read

without something crawling

across my page

my mother’s pansies

unwilling to forgive

days without water

morning heat
last night's thunder
an unkept promise
out from the mist
a swan
a single swift
making a circus
of the morning


Smells the happiness
of earth in the khus she wears:
the summer's first rain
The sky, hidden
from view as the land boils.
Barometer rises.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

graduation day
his friends keep asking
for my missing son

Pale Pleasures

Like cave-dwellers we
pale, blinking emerge
learn again to greet
scent of roses
late in the evening
for a garden
I've never visited

crossing the blue pools
of her gaze
Overhead, clouds boil
in Prussian blue; below,
raspberries ripen.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

where the river
meets the sky:
swans and clouds

massive skies in rainbow colours
angels light their lamps --
solitary lifeboat
This is Lake Superior's Batchawana bay. A place, surely, to inspire poetry.
A lifeboat from the Edmund Fiztgerald was found here, after she sank.
rippling summer sky a willow branch

Road Trip

road trip...
stuck behind the car
with the other guy's bumper sticker
open windows –
a siren divides the night

Stolen flowers

purple petunias

a crumpled blossom
comes from his pocket -
"for you mom"

Andromeda Jazmon
Already hot,
crow forego the barley fields
for the cooler coast.

Friday, June 26, 2009

run of clouds -
my shadow playing


course des nuages -
mon ombre joue
à cache-cache
summer solstice
the dark line in the arm's bend
stillness surround
the star-crossed lovers
in their misunderstandings
the silence between them
is deafening

riding in the rain

My father was an avid equestrian and disciplinarian. His four daughters dreaded riding with him because he sternly and constantly corrected our form or technique. When I was 15 and more interested in Seventeen magazine and fashion than going on horseback with my dad, that's where I found myself one early summer day. I wish I could remember why we went riding together; I certainly wouldn't have gone willingly.

As we guided our horses up the narrow trail through the aspen groves and Indian paintbrush of the national forest--dad in his cowboy hat in front and I, bare-headed in back--a light, warm rain began. I do recall the easy quiet between us with only the sound of soft rain, squeak of saddles bearing our weight, and a horse's hoof striking an exposed root or rock. Just as vividly I can still smell the ozone, the woods, and the scent of wet horse and leather.

warm rain
only the trail before us
silence between us
all night
dreaming of the storm
and in the morning
setting out for work
in tepid rain
Cool winds
sough along the tree line.
Cornflower blues.

Thursday, June 25, 2009


Delayed monsoon
may now come early and quench
earth's thirst with respite
from heat and power cut:
I smell wetness in the air
between two
stems of a weed -
a fallen pinecone
four days of rain

so yellow now the linden tree

perfume on her breath
Waikiki Beach
so many bare bodies
so little time
last night we were
covered in moonlight
your incense intoxicated me
even the fireflies were
stoned and stumbled

Pamela A. Babusci
Lynx Vol.XII No.1 1997
throbbing dark
i catch & release
a firefly

Pamela A. Babusci
being bumped
by bees and butterflies -
buddleia in bloom

(Mainichi Daily News)