Submissions 5 – NEW ONES HERE!

Anyone not yet an Icebox contributor, who wishes to submit an English haiku, haiqua, senryu, tanka, or (short) haibun or renga, can do so by offering it as a comment on this page. Just type it into the reply box below and click ‘submit’. An editor might later decide to move it onto the top page.

Click on the ICEBOX top panel to return to the top page.

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27 Responses to “Submissions 5 – NEW ONES HERE!”

  1. white butterfly
    on a dandelion –
    praying hands

  2. sound of church bells
    as the train whistles by —
    wind, wind

    low sun —
    my shadow imprinted
    on the grass

    two planes flash
    in the night sky —
    two fish swimming

    traffic jam —
    on my windscreen
    rain shimmers

    late in bed
    thinking …
    unable to let go

    at the well
    between letting the stone go
    and splash

    • Thanks for these, Diarmuid. “at the well” chosen for Icebox inbox 40.

      • Gerald we published that one in Persimmon recently, so maybe another would be best? I also have sone submissions by email from a few others, but am too busy until at least Sunday to difg them out and send them. Hang on a mo… By the way, this is a page and not a post, so it may not come under the 100 days limitation thing. Try a comment on a post more than 100 days old, too. Thanks.

  3. juliaguzman44 Says:

    Sunset…
    The red chest sanitario of the loicas
    in the snow

    Among the cherries
    the sounds from the santuario…
    Some petals fall inglés

    Autumn dusk
    The flight of geese
    reflectad in the river

    The smell of honeysuckles…
    The night lights up
    with the first lightning bolts

    • doksuri brewing a dark monsoon
      where pregnant frogs gather in the rain
      pneumonia oozes from flooded fields

    • I like the idea of the contrast between the sense images in this poem (specifically, honeysuckle/lightning bolts). If you submit this poem to the Experimental Space page, perhaps additional comments will be offered.

    • Hi Julia, you can find the Experimental page in the orange list at the top right corner of Icebox’s front page.

      It’s listed as:

      Experimental Space – English Haiku Poems 響き合いF, Kyoto

      This page is for haiku you want someone to comment on.

    • Belatedly, I decided to use the last (minus ‘the’ in last line, if you don’t object) in our summer 18 Inbox. The third ‘the’ made the rhythm awkward. Thank you

  4. a hare’s moon
    the few embers
    that linger

    Alan Summers

  5. owl hoots
    the night shifts
    with mice

    naming snow-
    between the violet
    and the green

    mackerel sky
    each bird twice
    as busy

    fledgling moon
    the bedroom ledge
    where stars slip

  6. rough stones
    polishing the table
    till she sees his face

  7. Hello, I was visiting in Kyoto recently and so thrilled to find your book Persimmon and the lovely haiku inside. And very happy to find this haiku society! I am a Taiwanese American poet living in the US. I have been writing haiku for a little while now, and here are a few I’d like to submit. Thanks for your consideration…

    Fat snowflakes fill
    the air. The city begins to
    disappear, slowly.

    On a shallow stream
    a yellow leaf floating past
    old dreams grow quiet

    Water bug larger
    than my cheek—do you wish to
    join my morning wash?

    A thousand and one
    golden Buddhas, a face for
    each woman’s sorrow *

    Alive with birdsong
    a glittering cave of leaves
    Buson, rest easy

    A lonely thatched hut
    two poets shared—one leaving,
    one staying behind.

    Old pains a heart can’t
    forgive—and yet here is the
    ocean, here it is.

    Pear blossom petals
    scatter the pathway—before
    us, and behind us.

    Oh, tiny frog!—you
    dodged my careless footsteps
    in the rainy night.

    Here is loneliness—
    a dark sky of stars, each one
    bearing its own light.

    A sorrowful heart
    watches a ranunculus
    bloom, day after day.

    The scent of jasmine
    floats along the dark road—a
    languid day ending.

    Wandering at night
    I see my father’s face in
    an old cobblestone.

    The indigo sky
    darkens—old friends drink the last
    of winter’s plum wine.

    Just a little rain
    dropping, dropping on my head
    brings me some sadness.

    • Thanks for the submissions, Maria. It is good that our small vermilion book of verse, Persimmon, reached a kindred spirit.

    • I took verses 6 and 13 for the Icebox inbox posting on the top page. See there. Thank you.

  8. * At Sanjusangen-do temple, there are 1001 golden statues of Buddha, lined up in a way in which each one is visible, even the farthest ones back. Each face is slightly different. They say that there is a face that each visitor is looking for. I’ve noticed that all the Buddha and statues I’ve seen on the trip are male.

    • interesting gender transference between the two images in poem #4.

      I like the idea of lightness, or simplicity in poem #1. “Fat” and “slowly” might be too much / too heavy?

  9. misery sings
    plankton shoes
    old compass

    turkey spittoon
    rainbow solstice
    volcano pyre

  10. Josephine Brennand Says:

    hungry wasps
    lost crooked boot
    pink Geraniums

  11. Hope this isnt too long for haibun in the submissions..

    Offerings

    The trolls at Fowlmere live under the bridges, sometimes under the boardwalks that meander through the marshy reed beds. They live in the damp, dark, shady places, loathing the sunlight and will eat you if you don’t answer their questions correctly or give them the gifts that they ask for. Fortunately, there are many opportunities to appease them in order to cross their bridges to safety. They ask us what our favourite colours are ( which we have rehearsed well beforehand ) sometimes they ask for leaves or berries, sticks, songs, poems or numbers. They are as fickle as the wind and the rain.

    dragonflys
    circling the gunnera
    two feet wide

    At the old watercress beds the pump galoops water and our dresses are wet to the knees. The trolls won’t eat the spicy bitter watercress but we like it with our apples and crackers. The chalkbed stream water is so clear and transparent that Ophelia floats by on luminous weeds as we throw blackberries on her and the silky, seed expanded heads of reeds.

    dried up reed beds
    from the hide
    Florence blows shut
    the windows

    We are becoming familiar with the different families of trolls. Some are nicer than others, can even be experienced as kind, as we try to understand their natures. Still, we are left alone to climb trees and make dens.

    from the bridge
    half a yellow leaf
    floats by

  12. Michael Henry Lee Says:

    Indian Summer
    tailgate parties retake
    Red Skin’s stadium

  13. michaelhenrylee Says:

    ornamental iron
    overshadowed in blooming
    wisteria

  14. Grand mother

    falling
    whilst looking at a blind man
    I see her frailty

    hand outstretched
    from cotton mill to butchers shop
    I drink from grandma’s cup

    The Golden Shot
    staying at grandma’s
    I eat a sugar coated orange

    Senyru I think?

    Thankyou

  15. michaelhenrylee Says:

    ornamental iron
    for the benefit
    of ivy

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