In a World of One Color: A Haiku Sequence

hearing her
methodical footfalls
snow on snow...

footsteps
on basement stairs; murmuring
name upon name

all that
remains of his funeral
snowflakes...


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Tanka about Time's Passing

like yesterday
Today comes to its end
resting behind
the horizon of my mind --
short day into long night


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Autumn Haiku

English original:

autumn gusts...
Jesus and Buddha sit
beside me


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

秋の突風イエスと仏陀が我のそば


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Moon Haiku

English original:

night deepens...
nothing left between
the blue moon and me


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

夜が更けて青い月と我の間に何もなし


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

A Haiku about Illness

English original:

the shape
of the world the girl lives in...
hospital window


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

少女の住む世界病院の窓から


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

A Haiku about poetry

English original:

gazing at
a bright rectangle of sky…
poetry class


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

長方形の空見つめたり詩のクラス


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Spring Haiku

English original:

clear spring sky...
I am seeing into
Yesterday


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

春の空昨日を見ている我が身かな

published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Dream Haiku

English original:

autumn dawn...
remnants of that dream
lingers


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

秋の夜明け夢の残りが長らえり

published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Haiku about Meditation

English original:

the master warns
keep your concentration
fluorescent lights hum


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

主の注意
集中を保てハミングする蛍光


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Moon Haiku

English original:

M, poet
seeking partner...
winter moon


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

月の連れ詩人の求む冬の月


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Nostalgia Haiku

English original:

east wind
from the Pacific
my feet itchy


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

太平洋から東風足がかゆい


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Valentine's Day Haiku

English original:

Valentine's Day
opening up for everyone
a bit of me


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

バレンタインデー皆のために私にも少し


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Earth Hour Haiku

English original:

spring stars blinking
city lights stay on...
Earth Hour


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

春星明滅町の光も地の時間


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

A Tanka about Learning English

my mouth
chews English words
anguished
they tip and stumble
in clumsy flight


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Relationship Tanka

a leech
sucking on man's blood
you take pleasure
in my anxious desire
to feel your surrender


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Relationship Tanka

flipping through
a science notebook --
a photo of us
taken at the catalyst of love
falls on the floor


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

English original:

first quarter moon
He Said, She Said
on the stereo


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

上弦の月男女が話すステレオで


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Moon Haiku

English original:

crescent moon
the purple middle
of an iris


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

新月やアイリスの紫の芯


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Butterfly Haiku

English original:

whirling snowflakes...
in a butterfly's dream
one hundred years


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

雪の渦蝶の夢には百年も


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Summer Haiku

English Original:

the eagle
flaps its caged wings
summer scent


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

囚われの鷲羽ばたくや夏の香


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

A Haiku about Recession

English Original:

snow moon…
around the foreclosed house
a dog wanders


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

冬の月差し押さえの家犬歩く


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Kite Haiku

English Original:

over the attic
where the boy lives
kites still fly


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

屋根裏に住む男の子凧揚げる


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Snow Haiku

English Original:

with my black eyes
I hear snowflake murmur
to snowflake


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

黒痣の目で聞く雪片のつぶやきを


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

Moon Haiku

English Original:

blue moon...
the shadow walks
with me


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

青い月私と共に影歩く


published on Akita International Haiku Network (Sep. 25, 2010)

A Tanka about Homelessness

a falling star
flares up for a moment
sliding into the dark sky --
the usual death
of Jane Doe


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

A Tanka about Homelessness

John Doe...
from a crying baby
to a silenced man
leaning against a lamppost
accompanied by his mangy dog


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Love Tanka

idly
we gaze at each other
doing nothing...
the sounds of traffic
fill the day


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Becoming an Adult: A Tanka Sequence

for Jean Rostand who claims that to be adult is to be alone


Times Square
I leave my hometown
memories
in a crowd
speaking foreign languages

loneliness spreads out
her arms over my heart
murmuring
you are the marrow of my bones
and flesh of my heart

between
two tips of the crescent moon
mother and I
age in separate worlds
at the different pace

the crescent moon
shines on my nostalgia
past hopes
wither
on its lower tip

for eight years now
we've seen the opposite sides
of the same moon
gazing up at it
I drink a full cup


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

To Buy or Not to Buy: A Tanka Prose

You buy furniture. You tell yourself, "This is the dinning-room table I need." Buy the FORSHED dinning-room table known for its clean aesthetic exuding a warm, calm and inviting atmosphere, then for a couple of years you're satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you've got your dinning-room table issue well handled. Then a set of dishes, chairs, and pendant lamps. Armchairs. The rug. A set of sofas. Then you're trapped in your cozy nest.

life is nothing
but a single issue...
I kick
all day long
a Coca-Cola can


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Being-Toward-Death: A Gogyohka Sequence

for Martin Heidegger

like a child
shoved
down the playground slide
scared
I reach this age

forty six
a long strip
of white sand
washed by waves
no footprints left

separated
by a thin wall
I've never
greeted my neighbour
Death

Death
(whom I just befriended)
and I
chat about our dreams
through the vent in the wall

Death lurks
about the room
taunting
how can I stop her
from editing my poems?

Death and I
face to face
minds apart
staring in silence
who will blink first


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Two of my haiku from the June 2010 issue of Blue Berry Haiku have been chosen as top picks.

The following is an excerpt from its official announcement.

"For our final spot, we had two haiku that we simply couldn't decide between, both by the same poet. So, we are deeming both of them winners.

butterflies
wing over cherry petals --
shadows embracing

by Chen-ou Liu

MPH: We love this haiku for so many reasons. First, we admire the use of “wing” as a verb, since the actual butterfly wing, a noun, and its shape are essential to the themes and imagery of the poem: the shape of the wing and its shadow and of the petal and its shadow are shown by the poet to be so similar, akin, as the shadows meet under the cherry tree in a sweet embrace. And, in the same way that the shadows match and embrace, so, too, the letters and sounds of the poem do in an aural and visual alliteration.

The relationship between things and their shadows becomes an interchangeable simile for letters and their sounds: the r's and s's in all three lines, and the ing's and long o's in lines two and three. Of course, the theme of the essential one-ness of all things is another layer in the poem, the plant and insect here shown by the poet as one in that fleeting moment in which their identities cannot be separated, in that moment when the two merge on the broad face of Spring's renewed earth.

~~~

on maple leaves
glittering raindrops gather --
floating worlds

by Chen-ou Liu

GL: We were all enchanted by the imagery of this haiku. The idea of mini floating worlds sent our imaginations soaring. Upon reading it, I visualize the calm moment after rain has subsided, with sunshine reflecting off raindrops which have gathered on leaves.

At first I imagined this as a summer haiku, with the leaves still in the trees, but the floating worlds could also be interpreted to mean the leaves are falling gently to the ground, or perhaps the raindrops are gathering on the newly-fallen leaves. Autumn colors also add vibrancy to the image. An outstanding haiku."

Moon Haiku

alone in moonlight
no wine, my eyes drink
her in　


published on World Kigo Database (moon)

Moon Haiku

Moon Festival
over Taiwan and Toronto
the same moon?


published on World Kigo Database (moon)

Time Is Nothing: A Gogyohka Sequence

for W. G. Sebald


I awake
eat, read, write, and sleep
the Mondays of present
follow the rhythm
of the Sundays of past

walled-in room
a clutter of books
a coffee-stained desk
stacks of returned mail
a mind unrested

the clock ticked
the sun rose and set
but in the shadows
Time does not pass
though the clock ticks

on any Monday or Sunday
I’m on the lam
crossing continents
sailing the Pacific
beyond Time’s grasp

drifting in a dream
turned into a bird
flying over the Pacific
I open my eyes
upon darkness again

pondering
who is this
thief drifting
in and out of windows
slain by the clock


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Autumn Haiku

maple leaves
drifting in the wind
a piece of my mind


published in the September/October 2010 “fall trees” haiku thread of Sketchbook

Moon Haiku

crescent moon
reclining on clouds...
the maple stands alone


published in the September/October 2010 “fall trees” haiku thread of Sketchbook

Autumn Haiku

a plastic bag
caught in the maple tree
autumn dusk


published in the September/October 2010 “fall trees” haiku thread of Sketchbook

Autumn Haiku

job hunting...
a yellow leaf drifts
from branch to branch


Editor's First Choice, published in the September/October 2010 “fall trees” haiku thread of Sketchbook

Red Dust Dreams: A Gogyohka Sequence

embracing
a dream
that dances to the rhythm
of my heart
I jump to catch the moon for you

not seeing
we pass each other by
in corridors
my dreams
see you

the only way
back to my lost youth
the whispers
in my dreams
love poems to you

waking alone
in the middle of a night
distressed
you evade my glances
even in dreams

moonless nights
and blank dreams
measure
the distance between us
two lives apart

I waste
my life away
remembering your
touch entering my dreams
one poem after another

I cry
like a 3-year-old
for lost dreams
my manhood thrown
into the rapids of days gone by

the piercing cry
of my neighbor's cat
laden
with pangs of loneliness
the same in my dreams

awake
I dream of a butterfly
or does it dream of me?
either way
we both live in Samsara


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Nine Ways of Looking at a Maple Tree: A Gogyohka Sequence

dewy morning
birds chirping
children playing
somewhere in maple leaves
sunlight breaks into pieces

intertwined
over the back alleys
maple leaves flash
in morning sun
autumn crimson

sitting
under the maple tree
I read the poetry
of leaves falling
into the book

maple tree
on the front yard
enjoys its solitude
I, too
sit by the window daily

maple tree
and I
gaze at each other
neither of us moves
or gets tired

withered
to a skeleton, the maple tree
stands firm
I see fragments of sky
between its bare limbs

maple tree
its bare arms
embrace Canadian winter
snowflakes on the face
of a Taiwanese immigrant

I have a mind
of winter to regard
the maple tree
on the lawn covered in snow
but no body of winter

bare maple branches
embrace the wintry sky
a Taiwanese
becomes the naturalized citizen
in a world of one color


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

June Frogs and I: A Gogyohka Sequence

for Matsuo Basho


Basho's frog
jumps in an old pond
no sound heard
yet it ripples
in the minds of poets

where there is
neither pond nor frog
I sit still to hear
the sound of a frog
jumping into the pond

one frog
after another
jumps
into the pond of my mind
lub dub, lub dub, lub dub

the frog of my mind
jumps
into the pond of the zeitgeist
splashless
as it swims

sitting
under the basho tree
by an old pond
frogs and I
sing to one another


Note:

"Basho's original name was Matsuo Kinsaku but he changed it to 'Basho' - after he was presented with a wide leafed banana tree (or basho tree) by one of his disciples. Although the tree is rare in Japan and the climate too cold for it to bear fruit, Basho liked it because of its large, soft leaves. The basho tree appeared frequently in his work:

Squalls shake the Basho
tree - all
night my basin echoes rain."

-- An excerpt from the webpage titled Basho of Poets' Graves


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

A Life in Four Seasons: A Haiku Sequence

we stand still
hands together
falling petals

a shadow
of that summer kiss
crescent moon

autumn dawn
the night that has passed
stays in me

first snow
on a blade of grass
her three words


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

A Haiku about Fallen Leaves

no unread
emails in your box...
first fallen leaves


published on World Kigo Database (fallen leaves,ochiba)

Confessions of a Struggling Writer: A Zuihitsu

drunk on moonlight from Taipei I stand alone under the Ajax sky.

My heart is depressed, my poetry schizophrenic, but nonetheless, my hand is normal, and I am a writer.


a Taipei key

opens the door
of Ajax twilight

I pursue my poem
throughout the night
put it down on paper


Writing tanka: four lines sound perfect, yet I struggle to write a fifth to perfect my tanka.


my anguish
crumbled into a ball
I continue to write
as the wastebasket waits
for one more throw


Sunlight drifts through the window and settles again on the worn cover of my Chinese-English dictionary.

My heart is a lonely hunter seeking the place where the odor of words is strongest.

Writing poetry is an endless and always defeated effort to kill my shadow.


I am forty…something
in the attic waiting
alone
four years gone by
and yet no chapbooks


My life… a void. I hit my head with books by other poets.

Being a writer means being voluntarily mad and struggling alone with the voices whispering, we all know you’re a failed writer.

Writing is a Jobian struggle against noises -- and silence.


Note:

Zuihitsu is a classical Japanese poetic form derived from the Chinese literary tradition that employed random thoughts, diary entries, reminiscence, and poetry. The first book of zuihitsu in English is The Narrow Road to the Interior written by a Japanese-American poet, Kimiko Hahn who received the 2008 PEN/Voelcker Award for Poetry


published in the July/August 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Moon Haiku

flashing on Barbie
in a store window
winter moonlight


published in the September 2010 issue of Berry Blue Haiku

Memorial Haiku

For Peggy Willis Lyles (September 17, 1939 – September 3, 2010)
who helped me publish my first English language haiku


autumn dusk
red leaves fall
into a poem
(alluding to Peggy's haiku: into the afterlife red leaves)

Published in Ripples from a Splash
Reprinted on PoemHunter (May 2, 2012)

Note:

I’ve only known Peggy since 2009 through email correspondence with her concerning my haiku submission. Peggy’s insightful suggestions, patience, and caring helped me find my own voice.

She will be deeply missed and her beautifully-crafted poems will live on.

Moon Haiku

hazy moonlight
folded under my fingers
hometown memories


published in Presence #42

Love Haiku

Tanabata night...
two silhouettes appear
and merge as one


Note:

Tanabata is a Japanese star festival, derived from the Chinese festival, Qixi, the equivalent of Valentine's Day, which also inspired Chilseok in Korea and Thất Tịch in Vietnam.


published on World Kigo Database (Star Festival,Tanabata)

Cloud Haiku

English Original by an'ya

June breeze
a hole in the cloud
mends itself


Third Runner-up, Valentine Awards, The Heron's Nest, Volume III (February, 2001)


Chinese Translation by Chen-ou Liu

六月微風
雲彩的一個破洞
修補自己

A Senryu about Duoble Ninth Day

Double Ninth Day...
I step on the shadows
of newlyweds


published on World Kigo Database (Chrysanthemum Festival, 9/9)


Notes:

1 "TAIPEI, Taiwan – One hundred sixty-three couples in Taiwan were married in a mass ceremony at 9:09 a.m. Thursday, the ninth day of the ninth month of the 99th year since the founding of their republic.

The word for nine in Chinese sounds exactly like the word for longevity, so there was method in the decision by Taipei city authorities to organize the nine-nine-nine-nine-nine-nine nuptials when they did.

Taipei Mayor Hau Long-bin, naturally dressed to the nines, was all smiles during the event, going the whole nine yards to make everyone feel the true weight of the occasion."

-- the Associated Press

2 Some people living in rural areas believe that if you step on a shadow, you will bring bad luck, or even suffering, to its owner.

An Immigrant in the Promised Land: A Gogyohka Sequence

Eric has become
the main character
while Chen-ou
has a supporting one:
life in the promised land

in my mind
there is a room
where Chen-ou
lashes out with the f-word
while Eric argues politely

inside my heart
there are no empty chambers
for Chen-ou
has piled his memories
despite Eric’s protests

in my soul
(I suppose there is one)
Chen-ou wages
a tug-of-war with Eric
for being himself

living
under the white gaze
Chen-ou
and Eric look like twins
same color, different dialects


published in Lynx, XXV:3

Being-In-the-World: A Gogyohka Sequence

for Martin Heidegger


I wish
I were you
forever frozen
in glory
a smiling graduation photo

looking
in the mirror
a few lines on my forehead
are there any wrinkles
on my soul?

I’ve turned gray
like Van Winkle
not under
a shady tree
but inside

is any day
of being
above the ground and vertical
a good one?
sleeps evade me

we all
go six feet under
why struggle?
short day
into dark night


published in Lynx, XXV:3

Dream Haiku

mid-autumn moon
lingering in my dream
the scent of mooncakes


published in Shamrock, #15

Autumn Haiku

mandarin ducks
feather to feather...
autumn dusk


published in Shamrock, #15

A Tanka about Aging

a wrinkled
face in the clouds
in the lake --
me?
it is, and yet ..


published in Notes From the Gean, Vol. 2, issue #2

Autumn Haiku

autumn dawn
alone with what the night
has left me


published in Notes From the Gean, Vol. 2, issue #2

Relationship Haiku

single married single again a rushing river


published in Notes From the Gean, Vol. 2, issue #2

Blossom Haiku

his quick
fingers on the keyboard
blossoms falling


published in Notes From the Gean, Vol. 2, issue #2

Photo Haiku

on the radio
Where Have All the Flowers Gone?
her faded photo


published in Haiku News (Sep. 1)

A Canadian Story: A Haibun

In memory of my friend and teacher, Paul Crudden

In 2004, I volunteered at a long-term care center as a friendly visitor for one of its residents, Paul Crudden. His illness made him speak with difficulty, but it didn’t stop him from conversing. Once a week I would show him how to use the Internet and we'd discuss Chinese language and culture about which he was insatiably interested.

We sometimes met at my home where we’d watch and discuss films. Paul had worked in Hollywood and I had been a film critic in Taiwan. There seemed to be a karmic link between us.

words
from the twisted mouth
heartbeats

One day I visited him, and he sensed that I was upset. Guessing the issue, he said, “Chen-ou, don’t worry about your English. Both of us have speaking problems, but many people around us have listening problems.”

the last visit...
grasping at the air
his bony hand

Paul's acceptance and encouragement made the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms relevant to me. He passed away on Oct., 30, 2005. Two years later, I received my Canadian citizenship.

late Paul
puts his hand on my shoulder…
snow on snow


published in Notes From the Gean, Vol. 2, issue #2

Dream Tanka

infestation
reads the latest headline
bedbugs and I
living in a rooming house
become a midsummer dream


published in Eucalypt Challenge, #8

Dream Tanka

in dreams
the bat flutters aimlessly...
waking
to December roses
am I Chen-ou or Eric?


published in Eucalypt Challenge, #8

Dream Haiku

the attic . . .
my short-lived dreams
under the ceiling fan


published in the September 2010 issue of The Heron's Nest