April 2009
43 posts
Standing on concrete between the trees’ reflections and the trees
Kris Lindbeck
tanka – light rain
The light rain and my hangover are fading. Sidewalks glisten but do not know it.
Adriaan Jacobsz
tanka-koan
The master said,
“Don’t leave the door open
for other people.
You managed to get through,
so who would need your help?”
Adriaan Jacobsz
So Victorian, this portobello: her yards and yards of dusky ruching; the ecru ruffles down about her knees.
Beth Adams
Buzzard Hangs motionless While I circle below
Brian Pike
Turkish restaurant: the chef makes goo-goo faces at his friend’s babies
klindbeck
1 tag
One crow weaves among The drizzle-wetted pine trunks In gray morning light.
Twitterku
1 tag
Crow Songs
Everything is lifting upward: robins to branches, crow to treetop, distant plane to wispy clouds.
oversouled
Two crows locate a small gray hawk in a maze of gray branches. But their angry calls soon taper off, and they sit silently under a gray sky.
Morning_Porch
Crow perches on a sunny lamp post scattering blackbirds
Kris
in drizzle and mist noon’s light glances blue off the flying crow
JS...
The Icon
See! A dove hovers momentarily above the roof wings translucent to the sinking sun then flies off like any bird
Kris
Closed strips, open stairs - this moebius of movement, upside down, inside out, turning me, turning me
…
by PF Anderson from this Momentile
Early Morning
Sitting in twilight, typing,
an odd movement at the edge
of the keyboard?
A big spider
crawls across my laptop screen.
YIKES!
…
by PF Anderson
i have no words today
i have no words today
whether left on the Sierra’s snow-clad slopes
or lost piloting last night’s flight through twinkling sweet air
i cannot say
i have no words today
While Driving
clouds ripple in the sky
streaks of light piercing through
winds gusting stoplights sideways
…
by PF Anderson
carpe diem
I he did not climb his hill today just watched it pass him by no moment seized, no bridges crossed his day expires a sigh
II no pebbles thrown today no unintended consequences the universe yawned and ground to a halt what are we without concentric rings?
Easter Haibun
I
This snowstorm in the Sierras rages oh so silently around us. Mountains disappear, white in fear, but we walk joyfully with our tongues out.
II
snowflake
lost in the crowd
alights to nest on my shoulder
Albino Tax Preparer at the Downtown Branch of H&R...
The sky darkens by degrees and sometimes in spite of myself I stare at his face as if it were a moon
Dana Guthrie Martin (see original post for process notes)
Something died in the furnace: sweet stench of decay when the heat comes on.
I must take my place
May a stranger join?
This caravan of sorrows
Silhouette in motion along the sunset ridge
May a stranger join?
Like silence in daylight
what is wind in darkness?
The Middlewesterner
i Waking from a dream I open a window to let in the moon
ii Midnight breeze through the window meets my quiet breath
birds before dawn simmering in the trees
Oversouled
My sister, the eldest, closed the door and turned the key, and we stood homeless in the chill April sun.
Sherry Chandler
Rain is the deepest
dye of new green, yet makes the eggs
in the grass glow.
full moon haiku
soft and white the April moon
at last arrives full-breasted
into the impatient evening skies
Wake me from the dark I
love you most where I am lost
Because of the bells
You tied to the rain
I can’t cry anymore
Spam Haiku
Sharp and harsh and its actions rough and hasty; give her a chisel.
Up to three toppings. Comes with leather straps. Dr. Who would not dream a longer.
The cloud ceiling trails wisps with dark ends like an old woman with long hair.
The red buds shake off
the judas weather of March;
Aceldama of April.
I grip the barbed wire
To be sure of
The sharpness
Brian Pike
Rain and Snow
i black crows gather high in a barren maple the river rising
ii high water the bridge graffiti garbled
iii stay close it’s miserable she says… the child catching a snowflake on his tongue
—————————
Gathered by permission by Kris from Blue Toque Who posts his poetry with line breaks...
Chiron
emblazoned upon the black obsidian skies
Centaurus pulls his bow one last time forever
rust and road
Leave no morning skin here Walk full of rust and road to an early field wild and almost green
Laura Sorrells
“This is another from the haiku magnets series, where I pull a bunch of them out of a cup and put something together from that handful.”
red-tailed hawks
soaring in tightening gyres
eyes locked on each other
April Before Dawn
wind presses the door closed
the heart of the storm comes near
dark is light with snow
…
by PF Anderson
Because I leave my night door open :: I am free to use the moon
Grant Hackett
(with permission)
Old pine cone
on roadside gravel:
same color
Oversouled
The old mountain hugs the river, the long and true music of your name.
tinydoctor
After Furr by Blitzen Trapper
My dogs invite me
To run all night in moon light
And join in their song.
~#~
My flesh turns to fur;
Dulls the taste to distinguish
The right from the wrong.
~#~
Fur returns to skin;
Too late to strain to fit in
Where I can’t belong.
- Twitterku
The song to which these three tweets refer is at FURR
1 tag
This is not a robot
“Robot” is a word that feels good in the mouth, especially when said slowly. * Fact: In poor lighting, metal trash cans are sometimes mistaken for robots, as are lamp posts, filing cabinets and human beings. * You were a robot who wanted to be a tree. You stood in the front yard until the seasons changed, convinced you would sprout leaves. * We confess to having loved robots even...
Light rain,
they say.
I see
a gray
wall to
drive through.
The Middlewesterner
Journey
for Rae, 1953-2009
clustered drops glitter at edges of a white pine — thru one sunset sears * * * the pulse of fireflies cascades, forms ephemeral constellations, shifts angular to open, curved goddess in a flash of light * * * high above the earth where snowflakes are born, look up — catch this light on your tongue! * * * they shimmer, she said, waves of bright colors...