for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

first snow (should be so past tense by now but …)

first snow
in the willow grove–
the waiting begins

First published in Sketchbook 5-6 Nov-Dec issue

…the waiting should be over. Some shoots have started to show in the mulch bed at the courtyard. Vigorous chirping trailed me on my way home the other day when it wasn’t raining; it’s been wet and grey on grey again yesterday and today. Here where there’s more rain, I miss the blinding white snow I used to skim around filigreed edges of the harbor in Baltimore. Oh, last week, a light flurry sent me grabbing for my woolen hat on my way out. I had by then put on my boots–too hot for the day it turned out. The flurries faded in an hour left frozen on grass like belated words. I should bus up to the almost all-year-snow capped mountains that frame Vancouver like Whistler but…

The haiku came to me on a walk by the ball field lined by willows in the neighborhood, not quite a willow grove, really. But I imagine it is and the bent branches looking for their reflections on the water like women obsessed with their long hair. Since their hair like the bare, dried willow twigs have lost their sheen in the ‘winter of their years’, their waiting begins perhaps for their youth to come back like spring. I don’t know–I’m making it all up. But I guess what I’m trying to say is I never really know why I write a haiku the way it is written. I still need to learn to be aware why.

February 4, 2011 Posted by | critique/self-critique, haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments



iti sirok ti rukbos

ruros ti langit

–haiku in Iluko, my dialect, as one born in the archipelago’s northernmost tip  with which I rarely speak and have been learning to write only two years ago.

Iluko is of Austro-Polynesian and Malay roots, one of 87 dialects in the Philippines. Syllables are read as written, no dipthongs–u’s are pronnounced as long o’s and o’s as short; all a’s are short and the ng as in ung. Pilipino, mainly from dialects spoken in the lowlands that has integrated languages from migrations and colonizations, is the national language of the Filipinos.


in the grove

shreds of sky

A priceless jornal for me.

February 2, 2010 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , | Leave a comment