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.
If your contributions prove interesting and you leave an email address, you may be invited to become a contributor.
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a ripple of light –
in the silence I hear the rose
unfold its petals
(Janak Sapkota, Winter Light 2005)
nobody comes to see her
but a fern adorns
her tombstone
(Janak Sapkota, 2009)
Thanks for these submissions. Janak Sapkota is your name, right? American? You’ll have to wait for a month or two to see if an editor posts one of these, as we posted an inbox selection to the top page only a few days ago.
Sorry, I am not Janak, I submit these haiku because I admire them. He is Nepalese haiku poet.
This Submissions page is really for poets to submit their own work. So can we reproduce one of JS’ in the next Icebox inbox selection, do you think? Do you know him?
Next time, please send us one or two of your own haiku or short poems, if that is possible.
I love Nepal… and wonder who you are, Anonymous? Bam Dev Sharma, perhaps?
Yes, you can reproduce them in Icebox. I informed JS about this submission and he approves.
I am Shambhu Kandel, a Ghazal poet. I write in Nepali so unfortunately I cannot submit for icebox.
Good to know that you love Nepal, may be next time you are here we can arrange a poetry reading.
Thanks, Shambhu and Janak. Will use one of them inthe next inbox in a few weeks. Namaste!
Spoiling the world’s sleep,
crows— fighting over compost,
wake me with the sun
star window mirror star
white roses
in my moonbeam garden
ginger cat
butterfly days
oregano and basil
hot rock garden
Sun climbing to noon
the hiss of a sprinkler
my only relief.
黒ねこの
変る目の色
9月の月
In the black cat’s
changing eye
September moon
cedar getters
a bright axe sings
hot fragrant air
Hour hand on seven
Left hand on belly
One ear still out for cicadas
cooler mornings the light of dawn skips across Buddah’s face
cool dry winds
i procrastinate starting a day
without the sun
grey rainy day —
a quick scatter of light
.. kingfisher
tires on wet
streets saying
sameness sameness
With great pleasure I made a poetic journey through Icebox.
Haiku unveils the inner insight of human being and brings closer to the beauty of creation.
haiku writing—
in garden all seasons
arrive together
P.K.Padhy, India
Thanks, PK, for your kind words. So glad you find pleasure in our site. Feel free to post another haiku or two from time to time via the comments facility on this page.
low yellOw moon
over the quiet
.. lamplit house
(by Kerouac)
————————
haiku class —
song of bell crickets
outside the quiet lamplit house
———————–
atumn leaves-
the slow striptease
of the red maple
Rain and snow compete
dressing, then undressing trees—
A white Halloween
late autumn
the breeze escapes
with tender touch
*****
autumn rain
the wiper swings with
colorful leaves
*****
P K Padhy, India
http://pkpadhy.blogspot.com
Walks become noisy.
The path is harder to find—
Red and gold carpet.
Oak trees shed their summer garb.
Girding for the first snowfall.
winter rain
all the Christmas lights
go out
**************************
winter moon
pink camellias
till it’s time to go
let’s drift away
the mirror of the snow
Can you kindly inform us of your family name, too, as there are other ‘Claires’!
Thanks for asking, you are right, there are several!
My last name is “Gardien”, and I’m “only” Claire for sometimes being part of Ashley’s Renku team…
frost on the pane.
winter words shaken down
– icy cold breath
sun set—
splash of darkness
back to the sky
*****
moonlit shadow
the old dogs lick
each other
*****
pleasant darkness
I could reach the distant
bright light
P K Padhy
winter work day
filling the wheelbarrow
full of sunshine
I like the feeling/language of “the wheelbarrow full of sunshine”. For me, this image in itself suggests a “work day”. I also like the idea how the season “winter” seems to deepen the setting, as well as offer a contrast with the “sunshine” .
from her dark hip the moon’s curve
sun shower
a twig settles in the cloud
Presence #45
—
a mouse licks the Cheshire moon
new snow
the blueness of the sky
Unpublished
sorry I forgot…
martin gottlieb cohen
nj usa
one more for the road…
shadows fold within shadows of the rose
tinywords.com Issue 11.2 | 27 June 2011
Immortal Love
Under a strong breeze
Kinoshita’s grey ricefield
Turns green and yellow.
Very nicely written. It has the elements of classical Haiku; kigo, wabi-sabi, and best of all it’s written in 5-7-5 without seeming padded.
a heart
devoid of love
is an empty vessel
after praying to Buddha
his deep silence
Pamela A. Babusci NY/USA
Certificate of Merit
The 6th International Tanka Festival
Tokyo, Japan 2009
It’s a very interesting modern Tanka. The first time I read it I thought it was a Cinquain. As a matter of fact, if you added ‘the’ before “Buddha,” followed by a dash, and cut “his deep” the poem could pull double duty:
(2) A heart
(4) devoid of love
(6) is an empty vessel.
(8) After praying to the Buddha—
(2) silence
In either form it is beautiful.
thank you cdsinex for your remarks. modern tanka doesn’t follow a strict 5/7/5/7/7 pattern. i write a lot of “free form” tanka. i have never written a cinquain. pamela
Pamela, it is a wonderful Tanka, and I hope you didn’t think I was criticizing the fact that it was “free form,” I was not. Nor was I suggesting it was more Cinquain than Tanka. I, as I’m sure you do, often read long poems or hear song lyrics and think that with some tweaking certain lines would be a nice Haiku or Tanka. My clumsy comment was meant as admiration (even jealousy) of beauty of your Tanka.
In the early 1900s Adelaide Crapsey wrote Cinquains that were greatly influenced by Haiku and Tanka. She died quite young after writing around thirty “Crapsey Cinquains,” all of which are available on line at cinquain(dot)org/cinquain.html.
David
dear david,
i did have a slight problem with you “changing”
my tanka into a cinquain. i am sensitive that way.
i have written tanka for over
17 years & i am the tanka editor of: Moonbathing: a journal of
women’s tanka. thank you for your admiration of my tanka.
are you on Facebook? let me know . many blessings & HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! pamela
valentine’s day a trace of your incense on the roses
pamela a. babusci
Frogpond 1995
Trailing round the shops
With her comedian dad –
Such a happy child.
winter night–
gentle whispering of
warm words
nice contrast PK: cold/warm; harsh/soft. I can see people huddled together, perhaps comforting each other in companionship during what might be a freezing night.
Slight revision:
Trailing round the shops
With her joker of a dad:
Such a happy child.
This has a better cadence than the one posted a short time ago. Thanks, Kamome! I like it, but sense a touch of envy in there somewhere?
Envy of whom: the child or the father?
Thanks for mistype note. I felt a suggestion of the poet’s envy of the child for having a joker father, but probably this wasn’t intended. I wonder, if it is possible for you to return to your commenting as ‘Kamome’, so that Hailstones know who you are?
Solitary crow
Pulls moss off of the sidewalk
Looking for a worm
parallel jet streams
coming together at dusk
pink clouds to the east
couch does not know it
sits vertical, soaking wet
half-in a dumpster
dead possum in road
face already eaten by
a flock of ravens
a thousand mushrooms
covered in a soft cold mist
quivering in the wind
Nice challenge, writing in the 5-7-5 line form. The images of “jet streams coming together at dusk” (poem #2), and mushrooms in cold mist (poem #5), attracted my attention the most. I think “jet streams” can offer the reader a chance at personal reflection. “mushrooms” seems to hint at some mystery. I’m not sure the last lines in these two poems help deepen these experiences though.
a thousand mushrooms: up now on the top page. Please subscribe to email notifications of new Icebox postings.
between the seasons-
countless leaves
either coming or going
Spring’s garden still bare.
Seedlings push on cold-frame glass
waiting for warm nights.
Perched on a nearby tree branch
a bird whose call I don’t know.
Plum buds peep
At the black March
Cherry trees
moonlit koi
under the lilies
beneath the stars
three wrens
for the price of one
spring rain
quarreling jays
the feeders half full
or the feeders half empty
three wrens: up now on the top page. Please subscribe to email notifications of new Icebox postings.
mud flecks
I want to dive in and out
of your freckles
Valentine’s Day
we fall in love again
over B&W movies
sleep breathing–
each of those love numbers
is my wife’s birthday
peeping through the moon
the glossy red cherries
— thirsty spring
Hi
I’m Kala Ramesh here!
I live in Pune, India.
summer sky . . .
the temple doves somersault
into wingsong
Kala Ramesh
summer sky… : up now on the top page. Please subscribe to email notifications of new Icebox postings.
Thanks ton:)
warmly,
_kala
Holiday
1.There
Going to the tent,
He reaches instinctively
For his front door key.
2.Back again
At the ferry port,
One hour before departure –
That rolling feeling.
At the ferry port: up now on the top page. Please subscribe to email notifications of new Icebox postings.
wooded bridge . . .
a maple leaf settles
into its reflection
star counting
we walk the spring moon
up the hill path
Kala Ramesh
Pune, India
I really like the mood of these two. Very well done.
miry fields
somewhere in the mango grove
a low-throated kree
old oak
spring birthing
gnarled
Alegria Imperial, Canada
.
painting class
children color each other
into laughter
.
.
morning rush
a dewdrop dangles
the sun
.
april dust –
how to vote and elect
one’s lemon colours?
day moon-
contrails traverse
the sea of tranquility
cabana boys
coco butter
till the wee hours
the swallows return
their feats aerial
in gathering darkness
Morning eclipse
a bell dulled
by winds and miles
Nice effect with the juxtaposition of the eclipse and the faint sound of a far away bell. Makes me wonder if the bell and its suggested sound is real…
St Pancras Station
John Betjeman’s waistcoat
catches the breeze
the all-alone stone
just you, Great Auk
and me
mating damselflies
a few drops from a splashbox
onto the patio
basketball session
Azure Damselflies shift
round the day’s heat
wonky chimney
its noon day shadow
straighter
Paddington Station
we grip love handles
at the ticket barrier
childhood games-
I match a yellow shirt
with today
Alan Summers
http://area17.blogspot.com
Sweet smell of summer—
Looking down on bare meadows
the first cut of hay
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks
Thank you for choosing it.
Birds furiously fight
On the bird table full of
Seeds refilled today
Disappointing winds
Reduce battling umbrellas
To thin walking sticks
Hungry birds fly down
Onto the bright green lawn where
Spare seeds have fallen
heat wave-
the size and shape
of every breath
eye of the storm
barely time for our
last goodbye
breaking dawn-
doves ascend the path
of least resistance
Perhaps a better version of a poem just posted
eye of the strorm-
barley time for a
last goodbye
Today being a glorious autumn day I thought I would post a haiku which was puplsihed in A Hundred Gourds, 3/2012.
goldenrod
growing in abundance-
a new restlesness
Adelaide
autumn winds
nothing bears repeating
but the moon
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
Indian Summer
that first bicycle ride
with an older girl
Cat moon
my wife ill with posset
at the restaurant
maple moon
grandmother’s recipe
settles in the pan
silver spoon sugar
the maple moon reflected
in its own shine
Alan Summers
England, U.K.
Alan Summers
alan@withwords.org.uk
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
Dear Hisashi Miyazaki,
Many thanks,
Alan Summers
Drizzle –
My thoughts talk only
Of my nightmares
Rattle snakes –
I remember my words
Causing a riot
Cobwebs –
My daily routine is
Lost in entanglement
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
Thank you for the acceptance.
Nancy May
French poet, born in Spain, 68, writing mostly (99%) in french
I am not sure the 5/7/5 7/7 in english is correct here…
Le jardin d’automne
est un vert paradis frais
peu après la pluie
ciao soleil adieu cagnard
ai-je donc été crapaud
translation :
garden in autumn
is a green fresh paradise
after rain shortly
fare you well deadly sun
must I’ve been a toad I feel
Autumn Haiku
breathing in—
across the room my husband
peels a tangerine
a brisk wind–-
the memory of old wine
in wet leaves
late autmn–
the sound of the brook
is cold
Adelaide B. Shaw
previousely published: Gean, Gean, World Haiku Review
poem #3 : nice merging of multiple senses, intensified by the time in the season.
a diary –
within its ruled lines
anger and tears
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
wild boars
write in the sand —
october rains
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
At this stage of life
seasons swirl ever faster—
Years drop like petals
A statement, perhaps, rather a haiku, but full of poetry. It’s nice to hear from you again. Hope all’s well
Chosen for Icebox publication. Thanks!
Thank you for choosing it.
Thank you. I had considered it a senryū when I wrote, and posted it.
lying together
after the spring thunderstorm
blossom and hailstones
Kindly repost this and the next haiku as a single comment on the NEW ONES HERE! Submissions page, for this page is no longer used. Thanks, John.
long tailed tits
gathering in the hawthorn
first flurries of snow
I remembered that we’d had a few submissions on the old Submissions page, and pulled this one out for the inbox posting (Feb. ’15). Thanks. Are you based in the UK, John?
Yes, i’m in Bradford on Avon. Raining, not snowing!
low back fashion . . .
a grasshopper husk
split asunder
Ingrid, if you want this to be considered, please repost this as a comment at the current “Submissions 6 – NEW ONES HERE!” page. Thanks.
Greetings!
Yes, I didn’t read the instructions correctly…sorry.
Thank you. I have submitted at ‘Submission 6’.
Pravat