Submissions 7 – NEW ONES HERE!

Anyone who is not 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 a fresh reply box (scroll down to the very bottom of this page) and then click ‘submit’. Please do not submit on someone else’s comment, as it gets confusing. Please submit up to 6 haiku max. 4 times/year if possible in a single comment. An editor might later decide to move your submission onto the top page in our ‘from the Icebox inbox’ posting series. Thank you for sharing here.

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

29 responses to “Submissions 7 – NEW ONES HERE!

  1. from Venelina Petkova, Sofia, Bulgaria…

    my mam’s Red pelargonium

    does not stop blooming

    Have I been a flower, too?

    seagulls cross

    the night skies

    and laugh at me

    awake through the night

    as if sad the cranesbill

    awaits the dew

    my breath …

    I ask the dandelion in my mind

    “Do you know how one dies?”

    • An interesting observation Yoshiharu.

      1. Maybe line 1 and 2 can be revised to focus on the image that was observed.

      over the gutter
      a spider is weaving a web
      *****************

      2. Maybe the new line 1 can be revised to highlight the type or location of the “gutter.”

      on a street gutter
      a spider is weaving a web
      ******************

      3. Line 3 is the tricky part. (what final thought/ experience to share?)
      a. the midsummer morning / the hot morning sun /
      b. a delicate/intricate bridge to its future
      c. ???

      4. I don’t think line 4 is needed

      • Thank you very much Gerald.
        I revised my haiku.

        a spider is wearing a web
        on the irrigating a rice paddy —
        midsummer morning

  2. Black bird:

    In the summer night
    From the rooftop of the house
    A bird is singing

    Yellow as a sun-beam
    Black as the wood burned by fire
    Deep sounds of sweetness

    The bird is in it self
    song and body like a haiku
    mirrored in my soul

    North Sea:

    Thundering North Sea
    Silver sand swirls like snowflakes
    Hurting eyes and skin

    My soul flies with birds
    Washed clean by sand, wind and salt
    Purified and light

  3. Goldfish

    “Do you remember this place” I ask. We had stopped here many years ago when we travelled on this road. This road was not a highway then. And there was a small toddy shop here, at this place.
    “Oh yes. And we had some weird fish fry and then you had an upset stomach. “
    I open the menu card. It reads indian chinese continental cuisine. The restaurant is empty.
    “The corona lockdown sir” the waiter says sheepishly.

    Self isolation-
    the aquarium goldfish
    stares at me

  4. Newborn

    A daughter is born yet again.. My paternal aunt cries . She wanted a son to be born after two daughters.Dad is all smiles. He says he is happy as the child is healthy. My mother looks tired but happy. My new born sister smiles at me and I fall in love with her. It’s my sixth birthday the next day and I am excited.

    memories
    I read about wormholes
    yet again

  5. overripe figs
    a screech of starlings
    squabbling over worms
    .
    rice paddy scarecrows
    sporting lookout tree frogs—
    slight shift of shoulders
    .
    delicate pink fringes
    a field of cosmos
    with skirts in full swirl
    .
    autumn berries
    crab spider sentinels
    lying in wait
    .
    weathered barn
    a blush of virginia
    creeping over rust
    .
    bruise-blue skyline
    dashing back and forth
    surf and sandpipers

  6. 3 inbox submissions just received by email from John Parsons:

    sheep’s trough cistern
    a hoard of midges
    swarms up

    bird wings above
    like my heart
    miss a beat

    purple loosestrife
    stillness of a heron
    in Autumn sun

  7. breaking barriers
    growing through concrete
    the peepal 

    frozen lake
    our differences
    irreconcilable

    chool carnival
    I relive my childhood
    on the Ferris wheel

    summer noon
    to the sound of cowbells
    outside my home

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