jornales

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

3 haiku on heavenly bodies

1.
shooting star
sneaks into my darkness–
your laughter

2.
the Milky Way–
the arc of an embrace
on emptiness

3.
red–
can it possibly be the color
for a star?

September 7, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

dreamscape and other haiku on space at NaHaiWriMo

shooting star–
wish I didn’t know
who you are

dreamscape–
where the sun turns away
and the moon rises

infinity–
vow before it’s broken

(not with NaHaiWriMo)

sky–
a breath cirrocumulus
leave for the moon

in the dark
streak of light behind windows–
someone waiting?

June 28, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

haibun: my first shooting star (para mi hermana, Margaret)

A haibun attempt as promised for Margaret, mi hermana de mi alma, in a comment on Stargazing at haikudoodle

I wrote this as a journal some ten years ago when I stayed at Angeles Estates in Munoz, Nueva Ecija, the Philippines’ central plains. Nothing but acres of rice fields, edged by the Sierra Madres the sky most evenings did tantalize. One evening I finally caught a shooting star…

It flared in the shape of wings, and was gone in a blink – my first shooting star.

Before then, a moon was sailing past its fullness, but brimming in the edges. It was cruising toward a thin veil of clouds, sailing through an iridescent sky. Its ride must have been bumpy on the grainy surface, but dreamy from a tender blue light beaming underneath that sieve.

In the glow, the lawn turned murky beige, the leaves of the escarlatina (frangipani), dark and glinting; and the gumamela blooms, pallid and droopy.

My eyes were trailing a white dog, yellowed under a weak moon, when the star must have started to skid. When I turned to break a branch to whip the ground and drive the dog away—that was when I glimpsed the flare.

It had vanished before I could breathe. I laughed; my laughter had bubbled off my heart without my coaxing. When I turned for someone whom I can tell of my star, the night had turned: the moon had burst out of the clouds, the blooms began to glisten; and the dog was gone.

shooting star—
a flap of wings
the same sky?

AE gardens during the day

Escarlatina in the sun

Also posted in http://www.iluko.com with a few paragraphs which I attempted to translate in Iluko. More pictures and information on the estate at http://www.angelesestates.com

December 17, 2010 Posted by | haibun, lyrical prose, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments