an old man waits
at the wrong bus-stop -
moon in a mist
Ingredients - my published haiku, tanka, haibun and the occasional piece of writing that fits none of those categories.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
A song by one of my favourite contemporary poets, with a remarkable video to go with it.
(Update: This video is no longer able to be embedded in a blog entry :-( but you can follow the link.)
(Update: This video is no longer able to be embedded in a blog entry :-( but you can follow the link.)
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
lost and found
sometimes I put things down
and lose them
it must be
my age
a while ago I lost
the word
vivid
but today I found it
quite unexpectedly
up a tree
in the park
and lose them
it must be
my age
a while ago I lost
the word
vivid
but today I found it
quite unexpectedly
up a tree
in the park
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Starting
Starting today
with this grey garment
I’m going to throw away
everything that’s ugly in my life
and keep only the cheerful
and the beautiful
I will do it quite slowly
one unlovely item at a time
there’s no rush to complete
the work of a lifetime.
with this grey garment
I’m going to throw away
everything that’s ugly in my life
and keep only the cheerful
and the beautiful
I will do it quite slowly
one unlovely item at a time
there’s no rush to complete
the work of a lifetime.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Wings of Desire
In the comments section a few posts back Alan Summers mentioned a film - Wings of Desire -that I hadn't seen and alerted to me something quite wonderful. The script is made up in large part of the poetry of Peter Handke, much of which shares the spirit of haiku and related forms. I also found this essay, Angels and the Modern City by Eric Mader Lin, on the symbolism of the film. All links well worth following.
...Normal poetry will be resumed following this cinematic break...
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
there is something
that I want, very much, to do
it might help
if I knew
what it was
This is not a tanka, but it may be a kyoka
that I want, very much, to do
it might help
if I knew
what it was
This is not a tanka, but it may be a kyoka
Friday, July 20, 2007
What I would do if... a tanka sequence
if I had wings
I would land
in a flurry of feathers
on your lawn
one sunset
when you
came to see
what caused the sound
I would gather you up
in a feathery embrace
I would
carry you away
over the hills
across the borders
to a land between
in a place so strange
a girl with wings
would come alive
because you could
believe in her
when I brought you
home
I would beat my wings
like birds do
when coming in to land
if I had wings
I would land
in a flurry of feathers
on your lawn
one sunset
when you
came to see
what caused the sound
I would gather you up
in a feathery embrace
I would
carry you away
over the hills
across the borders
to a land between
in a place so strange
a girl with wings
would come alive
because you could
believe in her
when I brought you
home
I would beat my wings
like birds do
when coming in to land
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
A London haibun
Unable to sleep, I try to reconcile the experiences of the day, to tease out the common threads, to find the pattern hidden in the voices, colours, shapes and motions.
water lilies -
my shadow falls
across the bridge
The exhibition shows impressions of a remote and long departed here and now. A reality which, close up, reveals it's nature in dry pigment.
a glint of gilt
distracted from the picture
by the frame
The play strikes me as more poetic than narrative. Everyone has their view, their opinion of what it's 'really all about'. What is it about for you? What nerves does it touch?
city night
out of the steady drone
a howl
water lilies -
my shadow falls
across the bridge
The exhibition shows impressions of a remote and long departed here and now. A reality which, close up, reveals it's nature in dry pigment.
a glint of gilt
distracted from the picture
by the frame
The play strikes me as more poetic than narrative. Everyone has their view, their opinion of what it's 'really all about'. What is it about for you? What nerves does it touch?
city night
out of the steady drone
a howl
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Friday, February 02, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
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