in the deep (a play on sounds and shapes)
no other way but
to skinny deep here…see
even in the deep
the wind
pass the jelly (((-oo> please
whooshing )–oo>>>> water
even in the deep
the \V/ wind
pass the jelly <<<<-oo> please )–oo>>>> water pops
off the breath of a whale
my soul in the wind
under the wind
<shark eyelids>
as i, conger, riding the deep
questions, your answer…a haiku series
winter silhouettes—
if blackened do nails
retell stories?
***
spiced wind
do snow tracks carry
your voice?
***
when banana hearts
peel off a lover, is it
the solstice?
***
lotus shadow…
is that frog song
a dirge?
***
tattered waves
why must keening tears
leap as an arc?
***
roaring wind
from what stone pod
do you rise?
***
sun dial
in the dark toasting
minions?
***
his arrhythmic heart
on a treadle… does the weaver
know?
***
wild wind
on dry sedge—
what more in her mind?
***
spiraling down
as fish…is the ocean
my soul?
more throwback tanka…another ‘duet’
again
the sea unloads
its burdens
still i cling
to you
in the wind
a wailing dove
you won’t see
as i bend a shadow
beyond yours
Alegria Imperial, Multiverses, Spring 2012
Updates: a few of my awarded haiku and recent select publication
recent awards
first tea with her—
cherry blossoms cloud
the skylight
Sakura Award 2014 VCBF Haiku Invitational
our breaths
suspended between skies—
monarch butterfly
honourable mention
2013 Diogen Autumn Contest
first dawn alone–
the widow eats his half
of the orange
First Place, free format category
Shiku kukai Sept 2013
recent select publications
dawn again–
parts of us unscathed
from war mongering
A Hundred Gourds September 2014
with a shredder
he talks of restoring
a broken vow
The Haiku Foundation Per Diem August 2014
shadows
in a burst of twilight
Luna moth
cattails May 2014
Haiyan debris…
a search team spots
an orchid
limp wind…
holding on to the sound
of our vows
#3:2 March 2014 A Hundred Gourds
moon’s rim…
fractions of what we yield
to each other
haiku news feb 17 2014 vol 3 no. 3
winter solstice (First Place, December 2012 Shiki kukai, kigo category)
My haiku for the kigo category in the December Shiki kukai won First Place, my 2nd in this kukai. Here it is:
winter solstice
the widow tightens
her braids
(0,10,9) = 29 pts
**Very picturesque and melancholy
Thanks to all who voted and to the kind poet who made a comment.
In the free format category where Cara’s (Cara Holman) haiku won 2nd place, my haiku
on the prompt ‘departing’ gained only 3 pts. Here it is:
a leaf
races in the wind
after him
Thanks, too, for the votes.
‘as wind skitters’ (my tanka adjudged ‘excellent’ in the 7th International Tanka Festival Competition)
My tanka adjudged ‘excellent’ among others well-known in the tanka sphere:
as wind skitters
through dry sedge
this thought
of shredded feathers
persistent
dry grass at English Bay, West End, Vancouver, BC
…at The 7th International Tanka Festival Competition, 2012 by Japan Tanka Poets’ Society, with 589 entries from all over the world that passed through the four judges: Jane Reichhold (U. S. A.), Beverley George (Australia), Yasuhiro Kawamura (Japan), and Aya Yuhki (Japan). Another tanka was adjudged ‘fine’.
CONGRATULATIONS to many friends in the terrific harvest!!!
if i could linger (my tanka at LYNX June 2012)
if I could linger
under trees, i would implant
myself to bar
the wind from luring petals
to their deathly dance
LYNX XXVII: June 2, 2012
cherry blossoms at Sakura Park, Upper West side, New York
‘fox moon’, a tanka sequence at Yay Words on ‘fox dreams’
fox moon
must it always be
this light
that draws your anguish
so feared so misunderstood?
your paws
on thawing banks the tracks
you left for me
as if I’ve lost you in
the moon’s shifting moods
silence
the midnight wind sends
you howling
always you miss my whispers
shushing your longings
in dappled shadows
the fire burns in your eyes
singes rustling leaves
you step in the moonlight
where we lay down your embers
come out of hiding
what greater fate is there
that awaits
than for us to bare our desires
we live for this and this alone
Thrilled to share my first in Aubrie Cox’s creative blog, Yay Words, included in a collection of poems by 34 known and published haiku/tanka poets on ‘fox dreams’. So honored to have my work alongside theirs. Thanks again to Aubrie for this wonderful project. Check it out at http://yaywords.wordpress.com/2012/04/22/fox-dreams/ Or click on ‘Yay Words’ on my blogroll.
Image of silver fox courtesy of wikipedia commons, photo by Zefram
About
autumn wind
wondering about lilies
in a mountain pond
Tell me a writer who really gets a satisfying jornal, in Spanish a daily wage or its equivalent, and I’ll bare a spirit in constant bouts of doubtfulness. Does a writer earn more because of what he writes and how he does it? Or is a writer paid more or less because of who he is? Is it money or honor he expects to receive?
Ahhh … but money as wage, and praise or honor as reward would be too predictable, too common as Job lamented in the Book of Job. It is in these lines that read: “Is not man’s life on earth nothing more than pressed service, his times no better than hired drudgery? Like the slave, sighing for the shade, or the workman with no thought but his wages, months of delusion I have assigned to me, nothing for my own but nights of grief. Lying in bed I wonder, ‘When will it be day?’ Risen I think, ‘How slowly evening comes!’
Restlessly I fret till twilight falls. Swifter than a weaver’s shuttle my days have passed, and vanished, leaving no hope behind. Remember that my life is but a breath, and that my eyes will never again see joy.”
Not money but joy is the ultimate wage as the passage implies. And joy is not hard to earn for it is in everyday life if we have eyes to see, a nose to smell, fingers to touch, ears to hear–a heart beating. This to me, is how a writer earns a daily wage. His wages then take the guise of treasures his heart can transfigure into a universe of thought that taps into other hearts, that causes a swirl in the depth of other souls, or that makes wings to sprout on leaden heels.
Sometimes not joy but rueful, poignant moments are my pick. Take what I earned once: On my walk home in my neighborhood, I caught two clumps of snowdrops–such tiny blossoms smaller than fingertips that do not look up but shyly droop close to black patches on the ground winter has frozen. That afternoon in the frosty wind, they trembled as if ready to turn away and run but how could they? For that poignant moment on seeing the wintry rain beat on the fragile snowdrop–as if pushing it to go home now, go to sleep–I earned my jornal, my daily wage.
Once on summer walk, the crackle of dried leaves just hit me both like the laughter of children and sobs long suppressed. Neither one of them would resolve the dryness, but I recalled how each does bring tears: laughter for joy, sobs for healing that comes with the release of a dammed-up pain. My jornal that day came as two haiku.
Fall has since shortened the day and the heart begins to crave for lost space that it doesn’t even recall which or where. I feel that most treasures have turned into mush so much so I wouldn’t be able to sift them off the ground. Yet I caught the dying day yesterday–so glorious in the gold of autumn it opened a flip side of serene heaven. Blades of grass coated in diadems of rain that carpet the lawns render royal walks poor by imitation. A burst of red maple against an inky blue sky humbled me, a soul bragging about her skill to recreate beauty in words.
I suppose I’m taking Job’s reflections to heart. I’d rather not gloss over each day and look beyond what’s there, right before me, or else fragile as is my breath one day “my eyes may never again see joy” to write. With what then will I compare the eternal joy, the ultimate wage I await?
Yet for now, as other eyes hanker to make the invisible visible, I put a tag on some moments of joy. Like on seeing the snowdrops, I paid myself $200 as my jornal.
What could have been yours?
Recent Comments
alee9 on … madhuri on … alee9 on My latest at Bones journa… alee9 on My haiku awards alee9 on a beggar’s prayer
jornales 
What is ‘zoka’? (Prompt at NaHaiWriMo: My response, added comment and Alan Summers’ reply)
15/10/12 (prompt by Scott Abeles: zoka)
Zoka is defined as “the process of creation, transformation, and destruction in nature”. The presence of “zoka” separates “object-based” haiku from “activity-based” haiku. Indeed, some argue that an object-based, zoka-free poem is not, by definition, a haiku.
Not quite sure I get it but here are my attempts at a response to the prompt:
sniveling wind
a puppy looks at me
for a nod
oak shadow—
a nesting moon rusts
on cloud mist
autumn stillness
a doddering mosquito’s
break-away
(Comment I added)
Honestly, the prompt almost made me sleepless as the term, ‘zoka’, intimidated me but I wrote three, in case, any might be the right response to the prompt. This happens every time I’m confronted with Japanese terms. And yet, as I’ve been resistantly dealing with my doubts whether or not I’ve been writing haiku, I realized like the other evening, some of what I’ve tried to put in lines are quite ‘zoka’.
Learning more of this poetry form is constantly challenging given the many ‘voices’ that spangle the haiku-sphere. I do read and hear them as ‘voices’ rather than this and that ‘form/term’ because as in any art, each line for me, is of the writer’s/artist’s world.
Again, this too, had confused me when first reading haiku. It was a challenge to be ‘objective’ (stripped of the personal or hints of it as perhaps I misunderstood), a view quite alien to Poetry as I know. But I’ve persisted and still do bravely write haiku the way I filter a seeming sea of knowledge on it from a mosaic of my own lenses. I wonder though if it’s valid, ‘voice in haiku, I mean.
(Alan Summers’ reply)
Yes, all debates such as this do enlighten greatly. Thanks for the discussion. And thanks for the challenge, Scott!
“Honestly, the prompt almost made me sleepless as the term, ‘zoka’, intimidated me but I wrote three, in case, any might be the right response to the prompt.”
It made you write some good haiku using that prompt. Sometimes too easy prompts do not push us into stretching.
You should never feel uncomfortably intimidated, just enough to stretch those writing muscles.
In fact I’ve observed you, and many others, become incredible writers of haiku, in various styles, through NaHaiWriMo prompts, thanks to MDW!
“This happens every time I’m confronted with the Japanese terms. And yet, as i’ve been resistantly dealing with my doubts whether or not I’ve been writing haiku, I realized like the other evening, some of what I’ve tried to put in lines are quite ‘zoka’.”
Exactly! What’s good about the NaHaiWriMo page is that we are all in this together, and out of that support there has been some incredible work.
When I did my recent prompt courtesy of MDW, I was astonished how many fine, not just good, but very fine haiku I had to reduce to the nominated number for the forthcoming anthology. And it was a difficult prompt too!
You can always use Google or Bing to search these terms out. I have a huge database backed up on my computer for the benefit of my workshops.
You can always email or FB message if you are not sure. We are always learning, so I keep up to date as much as possible, and have a useful set of resources.
“Learning more of this poetry form is constantly challenging given the many ‘voices’ that spangle the haiku-sphere. I do read and hear them as ‘voices’ rather than this and that ‘form/term’ because as in any art, each line is of the writer’s world.”
Exactly!
“ Again, this too, had confused me when first reading haiku. It was a challenge to be ‘objective’ (stripped of personal perception as perhaps I misunderstood), a view quite alien to Poetry as I know. But I’ve persisted and still do write haiku the way I filter a seeming sea of knowledge on it from a mosaic of my own lenses.”
You have a remarkable style and voice in haiku, it’s a privilege to know you and read your work.
“ I wonder though if it’s valid, ‘voice in haiku, I mean. Yes, all debates such as this do enlighten greatly. Thanks!”
Having a voice in poetry is what we all aspire to, and so I’d say we can also have our own voice in haiku. After all Basho wanted his students (and in a way, we are his students too) to go their own way in haikai literature, not to copy what he had done.
We don’t know what he’d like or dislike but I think many of us would be both surprised and delighted that he’d like certain developments and progressions in haiku. Alan Gibbons
January 26, 2013 Posted by alee9 | background, comment, haiku | Alan Summers, alegria imperial, autumn, challenge, discussion, enlighten, mist, moon, mosquito, NaHaiWriMo, National Haiku Writing Month, oak, prompt, puppy, Scott Abeles, shadow, valid, voice, wind, zoka | 7 Comments