Calligraphy Haiku

thinking of mom...

the calligraphy

of snow geese

Third Place, 2015 Griffin-Farlow Haiku Award

Comment by the Judge, Michael Dylan Welch:: It's uncommon for a haiku to succeed with an overt metaphor, but here's one that does. As we contemplate the patterns that snow geese make, we realize that the straight lines they make while flying differ from their wandering tracks on the ground. Calligraphy is full of loops and curls, so surely the calligraphy these geese make is on the ground. In the context of thinking of one's mother, one might find longing in those wandering tracks, as if the geese might soon be taking off for a flight far away.

Pillows Haiku

half moon rising...
Berlin Wall of pillows
between us

PoemHunter, March 16, 2015

Spring Mist Haiku

I  s  t  r  e  t  c h t h e l a n g u a g e a s f a r a s t h e e y e c a n s e e
springmist

NeverEnding Story, March 15, 2015

"I can't breathe" Tanka

a sea of blue uniforms
under the New York sun
a black man
holding up a placard
that reads I can't breathe

Hedgerow, 22, March 27 2015

ESL Class Tanka

first ESL class
on a snowy night
I struggled
under the weight
of unspoken words

Ribbons, 11:1, Winter 2015

Note: ESL stands for English as a Second Language.

Fist Fights Tanka

fist fights erupt
like bush fires on the street
below my window --
fired today, I fling f-bombs
at my shadow on the wall

Ribbons, 11:1, Winter 2015

Midnight Barking Haiku

midnight barking --
I turn up the volume
of my thoughts

Frogpond 38:1, winter 2015

Eyeless Doll Tanka

sleepless again,
looking at water stains
on the ceiling
I hug my loneliness
like an eyeless doll

A Hundred Gourds, 4:2, March 2015

Peace Tower Tanka

maple leaves
tremble in the autumn wind
a pool of blood
in the long shadow
of the Peace Tower

A Hundred Gourds, 4:2, March 2015

Silence Haiku

snow on snow...
her words fall onto
my silence

A Hundred Gourds, 4:2, March 2015

Winter Solstice Haiku

winter solstice
I hold
a butterfly dream

A Hundred Gourds, 4:2, March 2015

Day and Night

winter wind ...
letting go of myself
scrawled in the sand

at the cliff's edge
I wait
for the cold moon

Hedgerow, 21, March 20 2015

Ghosts Haiku

a fast
from sunrise to moonrise
ghosts of my past

NeverEnding Story, March 10, 2015

Winter Fog Haiku

winter fog...
the dripping faucet
my sole companion

PoemHunter, March 7, 2015

Chinese Tongue Kyoka

facing a blonde
from findlovesingles.com
I roll I'm a poet
on my Chinese tongue
giving it a new shape

Prune Juice, 15, March 2015

Divorce Senryu

three months gone
his ex's voice on the machine,
we're not home ...

Prune Juice, 15, March 2015

Border Haiku

written in response to the "Made-in-America" Immigration Crisis

El Paso twilight
a body straddles
the white border line

NeverEnding Story, March 5, 2015

Note: El Paso, Texas stands on the Rio Grande (Río Bravo del Norte, the fifth longest river of North America), across the border from Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico.

Blood-Stained Sketch Haiku

for the artists who fight for freedom of expression

blood-stained sketch:
a pencil in the beak
of a dove

NeverEnding Story, February 28, 2015

The Journey Itself Is Home, A Tanka Prose

for Matsuo Basho

I carry the dead weight

of cliched poetry

on the road

to the Interior

cherry blossoms drifting

Like the shadow in the morning, the workshop lecturer's comment lingers in my mind, "There are two kinds of traveler-poets: those who look at the map and those who look in the mirror. The first are embarking on their journey, and the latter are returning home."

Hedgerow, 19, March 6, 2015

Evening Breeze Haiku

evening breeze
ruffling thoughts of her
echoes of the erhu

The Heron's Nest, 17:1, March 2015

I see through a glass, darkly, A Haibun

like a newlywed standing by her wooden mailbox,
like a hungry spider lurking in its dewy net,
like a spring seed breathing under heavy snow,
with fixed attention I’ve been looking
at the end of the winding road
where He is supposed to emerge

winter twilight
between the pages of Job
a wooden cross

Haibun Today, 9:1, March 2015

An Attic Haiku Set

shaft of attic light ...
in a dusty pile
poems to my first love

black coffee and a book ...
a flood of light
through my attic window

NeverEnding Story, February 23, 2015

Garden Haiku

my neighbor's garden
bursting with color --
For Sale sign

2015 Haiku Canada Members' Anthology

Valentine's Eve, Friday the 13th, A Tanka Prose

To me, love itself is but a memory. A heartbroken man is not just someone who has lost his love; he is someone who can't find another, who no longer knows what real love means. A heartbroken man re-invents love with what's left of it each time.

after sending her

one poem after another

I imagine a key

and a glass shelf

in her medicine cabinet

NeverEnding Story, February 13, 2015

Day and Night, A Tanka Sequence

for new immigrants

flying above
the light and murmur
of Formosa
the airplane carries
my immigrant dream

Toronto settles
into a nocturnal rhythm ...
face to face
in the attic room
with my Chinese self

Haiku Canada Review, 9:1, February 2015

Note: In 1544, a Portuguese ship sighted the main island of Taiwan and named it "Ilha Formosa," which means “Beautiful Island.”

A Tanka about "From Far Formosa"

all of a sudden ...
my vision blurring
and the words
in From Far Formosa
lifting off the page

NeverEnding Story, February 18, 2015

Hockey Stories Tanka

the silence
between his hockey stories ...
a banana
thrown on the ice
to trip a black player

NeverEnding Story, February 9, 2015

Scribble of Swallows Haiku

rewriting haiku --
in the sky a scribble
of swallows

Revision, Haiku Canada Review, 9:1, February 2015

Plastic Roses Haiku

her shadow
on the plastic roses
winter twilight

Haiku Canada Review, 9:1, February 2015

I'm Not Your Magic Johnson, A Tanka Prose

like dark clouds

these words hovering

in my mind:

Did you ever love me?

I love that you loved me

The low rumble of distant thunder. On the way home, I walk with a heavy step, my legs aching. I am dragged down by this inescapable fact that tomorrow is Monday and it will be hard to get up.

Whispers, February 7, 2015

Silence of Abandonment, A Tanka Prose

running to her
on the path of my dream --
her black cat
wanders back and forth
along the white fence

The last time we communicated with each other was her parting words printed in a bold, black type on the A4 paper under her wedding ring: feed the cat.

Hedgerow, 15, Feb. 6, 2015

#IamXXX Tanka

written for Twitter users who believe in the one-click revolution

on my screen
one #IamXXX pops up
after another ...
outside the cafe
an old man in rags

NeverEnding Story, February 3, 2015

Hole Senryu

a hole in my sock
she serves me
with divorce papers

Modern Haiku, 46:1, Winter/Spring2015