Friday, July 29, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxvi

sinus headache
the rain falls
too loudly

16 January 2002

north wind
young eyes fill the clouds
with snow

19 January 2002

drifting woodsmoke
walter's soft voice invites
us to quaker center

19 January 2002

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxv

the mist gives substance
to the sunlight

13 January 2002

tear tracks
the sunshine dissolves
the frost

13 January 2002

baby lust
she wipes the strained carrots
off the floor

14 January 2002

Monday, July 25, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxiv

economic downturn
my bus fare skids
into the sewer grate

12 January 2002

arguing poets --
basho sees only
the frog

12 January 2002

fireside chat ~
cold feet
in spite of my slippers

12 January 2002

Sunday, July 24, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxiii

grandpa in his coffin
she sings a lullaby
before they close the lid

9 January 2002

sun on bare branches ~
when you take away the words,
where is the haiku?

11 January 2002

feathery clouds
your death magnifies
my life

11 January 2002

Friday, July 22, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxii

too hot to handle
he takes a fresh slice
of pepperoni pizza

9 January 2002

church bells
she leaves her good intentions
in her hymnal

9 January 2002

meeting-house door
the silence ends
in birdsong

9 January 2002

Thursday, July 21, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxxi

New Year's at the Madrones'

brisk breeze
the coals in the fireplace

new year's eve
the death of rats'
black cloak

by Iris Matisse Madrone, age 9

new year's bubbly
a mixing bowl full
of dish soap

Garry Madrone, age 50

drawing a 4-leaf clover
my pen breaks
year of the horse

double luck
i cut a 4-leaf-clover
out of red paper

Morgayn Madrone, age 13

my name
the new year

Merlin Madrone, age 2

new year's eve
i make a maze
out of mega mags

Malcolm Madrone, age 6

11 pm
waiting for the earth to spin us
into the new year

Heather Madrone, age 40

31 January 2001

haiku retrospective clxxx

A kukai is a themed community haiku series, often as part of a contest. Sometimes, the kukai start spontaneously in response to a particularly moving haiku. Other times, someone announces the theme and everyone takes off from there.

In this case, there were two themes: New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. Two themes makes it a double kukai. In some cases, kukai specify particular kigo (season words), but in this case, the writer was free to choose from many possible New Year's Eve and New Year's Day kigo (champagne, baby horses for year of the horse, old snakes and
snakeskins for year of the snake, firecrackers, crystal balls dropping, countdown, paper hats, confetti, noisemakers, auld lang syne, red paper, last night, first morning, midnight, etc., etc., etc).

My sub-theme this year was laundry.

new year's eve --
wondering what to wear
to the funeral

last load on spin
a sweatshirt and three socks
in the hamper

empty diaper pail
the dryer buzzer
rings in the new year

31 December 2001

haiku retrospective clxxix

boxing day farewells
my grandfather closes his eyes
for the last time

26 December 2001

all those gifts
not a single scrap of the love
was wasted

31 December 2001

january sunshine
a cloud of steam rises
from the tree trunk

3 January 2002

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxviii

chocolate santas --
do you bite the head off
or nibble the toes?

25 December 2001

christmas eve
one last hand of cards
before we hang the stockings

25 December 2001

california dreaming
a white christmas
inside the snow globe

25 December 2001

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxvii

a plume of wood smoke
on the mountain

12 December 2001

winter night
the sound of an ornament

12 December 2001

christmas carols
a flock of blackbirds
over the parking lot

20 December 2001

Monday, July 18, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxvi

lowering skies
leaves and persimmons
the same shade of orange

23 November 2001

winter dawn
he burrows deeper
under the quilt

30 November 2001

no rain
the cat's tail disappears
around the fence

12 December 2001

Sunday, July 17, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxv

grocery shopping
i turn down the radio
to hear the rain

10 November 2001

moving day
a wet maple leaf sticks
to the mattress

10 November 2001

drought's end
she scribbles haiku on the back
of her grocery list

10 November 2001

Saturday, July 16, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxiv

I seem to be in a period of cautious, tight linkage, just-so shasei (sketches from life). The juxtapositions don't hop very far, the relationships between the two parts are too obvious, and the twist might be too obviously staged.

Oh well, having said that, they still give me a brief smile.

november rain
a rainbow of peppers
in the produce section

10 November 2001

winter birkenstocks
the wool toe of her sock
skims a puddle

10 November 2001

weekend traffic
the "Road Work Ahead" sign
turned sideways

10 November 2001

Friday, July 15, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxiii

samhain night
another wreath
goes up in smoke

3 November 2001

first rain
the moss on the oak tree

6 November 2001

pitter patter
a green polka dot
on the dusty leaf

7 November 2001

Thursday, July 14, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxii

crumpled leaves
the haiku at the end of the page
scrunch together

3 November 2001

autumn shower
the prickle of wet hair
dripping down my back

3 November 2001

maternal caution
don't butter
the dog

3 November 2001

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

haiku retrospective clxxi

artistic streak
she dips a green crayon
in her tomato soup

3 November 2001

all souls day
the scent of smoke lingers
in my hair

3 November 2001

library day
she dips her nose in the cream
on her cocoa

3 November 2001

Monday, July 11, 2011

haiku retrospective clxx

autumn deepens
women exchange soup recipes
by the gourd display

19 October 2001

woodland graffiti
a fallen branch carved
by bark beetles

19 October 2001

rose garden
yellow leaves
among the prickles

3 November 2001

Saturday, July 9, 2011

haiku retrospective clxix

war on terrorism
a storm of yellow leaves
from the honey locust

15 October 2001

setting clocks back
his open hand cracks
against her temple

15 October 2001

retirement community
speed bumps
in the cul-de-sac

16 October 2001

Friday, July 8, 2011

haiku retrospective clxviii

calm see
the prelate dawdles
over his coffee

2 October 2001

autumn clarity
upturned garbage carts
along the road

3 October 2001

a flattened possom
in the road

5 October 2001

haiku retrospective clxvii

firehouse barbecue
the stars and stripes hang limp
at mid-pole

october haze
a frayed american flag
on the new pickup

turning leaves
red, white and blue bunting
covers the mailbox

2 October 2001

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

haiku retrospective clxvii

not a haiku...

foggy afternoon
in capitola

i cross the parking lot
with a handful
of candy fruits
for my children

a uc berkeley sweatshirt
walks by
on a forty-something man
with cropped silver head and beard
and a deep scowl on his face

as he walks past
i see the bare back of his neck
tender and vulnerable

i want to jump him
and bite his neck
but why?

20 September 2001

haiku retrospective clxvi

Something happened between the first and second haiku.

autumn leaves
the mountain ridge crisp
against the sky

6 September 2001

half-mast --
september sunshine streams
through green maple leaves

11 September 2001

day of mourning
three ravens circle
the grocery store

18 September 2001

Sunday, July 3, 2011

haiku retrospective clxv

no moon
the hiss of the ocean
against the cliff

25 August 2001

lichened tree trunk
two streaks of silver
at her temples

25 August 2001

labor day
the old man drills bolt holes
in the concrete

2 September 2001

Saturday, July 2, 2011

haiku retrospective clxiv

clear cut --
the twin horns
of a dilemma

20 August 2001

nothing --
less is

21 August 2001

years spin by
faces blur around the edges

24 August 2001