Archive for May, 2010

From the Icebox inbox 12

Posted in Haiku, Senryu, Submissions with tags on May 24, 2010 by Tito

A sudden breeze

Wren and leaves

Fall in tandem

……….. (Mark Lonergan)

.

Patrick’s Day –

two deaf guys go on chatting

through the anthem

……….. (Norman Darlington)

.

A few snowflakes

take a tour around my garden

on Tom Cat’s back

……….. (Guus)

.

On the clean lines

of freshly cut paddies,

crows as musical notes

……….. (Ted Taylor)

.

hot winds blow

across the brown hills:

dreams of rain

……….. (Keith A. Simmonds)

fan watching

Posted in Senryu, Summer on May 14, 2010 by Gilad

.

.. Early summer in Tel-Aviv

.. The parking guard is staring

.. at the ventilator

A friend to stone

Posted in Event report, Haiku, Spring with tags on May 8, 2010 by Tito

.. Castle of

.. A friend to stone:

.. Cottonseeds of willow

.. In the air

(Yoshi Okumura)

.. After Miyajima (2001), Matsuyama (2005), and Okayama (2009), Hailstone held its fourth Inland Sea region English haiku ginko event – in Takamatsu on May 1st. Eight people attended. A bowl of Sanuki noodles and a blast of sea air, … and we entered Isamu Noguchi’s appointments-only sculpture garden on a hillside near Mure.

. Sculptor’s workshop …………………………….. It clipped the eucalyptus

. Long after his death ………………………………With its wing —

. Ants mill about ……………………………………… Shikoku swallow

………….. (Sean O’Connor) ………………………………………………… (Tito)

A forbidden stone

Under the willow tree

Offering a rest

……………….. (Junko O’Da)

Noguchi’s  father, Yonejiro, had the distinction of writing the first ever

haiku in English (London, 1902), and we talked of him at our next destination, once back in Takamatsu: the Kikugetsutei Teahouse in the glorious landscape garden of Ritsurin Koen.

…. Circumambulating

…. Ritsurin, my shoes

…. Dusted with yellow sand

(Noriko Kan)

.

the wind carries away

through the garden of new green

each haiku intoned

(Mayumi Shigeta)

Passing Spring

Posted in Haibun, Haiku, Spring with tags , on May 4, 2010 by Hisashi Miyazaki

thick voices

of the school ball game:

mud snail cries

There is a high school over the paddyfields,  not yet planted, the path to which I walk along everyday. I hear young baseball-players shout as paddy-snails cry softly under warm sun.

end of spring:

looking at us over the fence

a giraffe