"Seen the comet yet?"I've seen 'em all, and they fade
into dark cold space
Soft petals open
Swoosh of the baseball
Frustration mounts as balls fly
Five year old at bat
The poet comments, "hope to explore this theme more this month. comments?... please. ***S***"
Toast Point is looking forward to more. It's sort of like "Thirteen ways of looking at a blackbird"!
delight of springtimeMad Austrian, your emerald sun is down below (dated the fifteenth).
Fresh breezes, warm sun,
Students stretched on grass
discussing Jean-Paul Sartre
like others before.
The poet comments, "Reminiscing about student days in Boston."
Thousands of people
gather at dusk at the shell.
Hush--the music starts!
The poet comments, "Boston Esplanade concerts."
Toast Point was in Boston just a couple of weeks ago! Sadly, just for the day.
Gray ghosts drift westward
from empty pocketsThe poet comments, "my wife and I went to Galveston today (from our home in Houston, Texas) and had lunch on the bay where the shrimpboats are berthed. Two of the shimpboats, berthed side by side, were named "Empty Pockets" and "Sara Grasso". "
former ribbon fish
inside cormorant's throat now;
idle shrimpboats' nets.
"Seen the comet yet?"
I've seen 'em all, and they fade
into dark cold space
flowers in the head
the hermit squeezes berry
juice on the sad page
The poet comments, "I wrote this back in college around 1975 and thought it would nice to send out."
azure flash. again.
Alabama moon
streaking white comet
errant lump of ice
streaks across our line of sight.
we touch infinity.
dislodged ice lump
streaking toward the dark of space
ironic beauty.
The poet comments, "Written after comet sighting..."
solid pink cloud bank
rolls eastward with majestic calm.
sky warriors advance.
Bum, my naked bum
Again he hits me
time's magic moment,
two spirits are joined as one
and the word is love
The poet comments, "This is for Misty..."
Blustery winds come
The poet comments, "They really do..."
I am a sports mom
Chasing after balls and kids
More fun than working!
The poet comments, "Little did Monique know when she wrote of little brown hamsters in January, that the hamster would soon have something more to run from... Fortunately I saved it - now who saves us???"
The poet comments, "It's that time of year again."
Frankenstein is big
He's made of other people
And also scary
ablaze with color
leaves fall into clear water-
the bubbling brook
The poet comments, "I know this has nothing to do with spring, but oh well"
butterflies converge
a sea of gossamer wings
summer's bounty found
howling desert wind
answers the coyote's cry
like calling to like
My shadow
The deserted boardwalk
A lone gull cries
Snow on the sand.
The poet comments, "The most humongous Japanese lantern I'd ever seen Godzilla electro-magnetized my eyes across the street on the Hill in Boulder."
The poet comments, "I'm getting married in Spring. Trying to write a haiku for this occasion is harder than I expected!"
ex-lovers sitting
early afternoon meeting
cold tea between them
As my vision fades
Fruit trees are blooming
in the garden in springtime
wild cats playing there
The poet comments, "Strange wild cats arrive every day."
the afternoon light
drifts across divorce papers
in the empty room
Tiny fishing boats
tethered near the lapping waves
longing for the sea
Spring raindrops glistens
each one a crystal rainbow
echoing promise
Leaves under my feet
Red, orange, yellow and brown
Crunching crispily.
The poet comments, "For you Joey!"
They never told me
What it meant to speak your truths
How free you can feel.
The snow comes down
firefly procession
The poet comments, "I saw this scene on highway two, eastbound in the Cascade mountain range, Wash."
startled branches bend,
bowed beneath the sparkling weight.
treetop diamonds blaze.
The poet comments, "written during our recent ice storm in Michigan. we lost electricity for five days. "
Baby chews his toy.
The golden leaves fall,
patchworking the forest floor,
a quilt for the ground.
The poet comments, "To Joe and Mary"
The poet comments, "Southern hemisphere, March is Autumn, not Spring. How is the seasonal difference resolved? SO Confusing! "
comet lights the sky
brilliant cosmic visitor
then, like all things, gone
dawn. I greet the day
rise, yawn, stretch like awakened cat
such exquisite joy
swallow pirouettes
avian Baryshnikov
performing its dance
mi cumpleanos
The poet translates,
my birthday
i am older and wiser
time passes"
steel talons fixedThe poet comments, "I just made up a new word - aflash."
My pen's out of ink;
Seesaw feels like hell
Up, down, yes, no, run, stay, scream
Hard ground rushes up
she lived in dreamsThe poet comments, "I have a question regarding a possible future entry: do you accept Haikus that are in two parts?"
Absolutely. Usually, it's obvious that the haikus are multi-part, but if you think it's not, include in the comments, "Haiku 1 of 3" and so on, just like diskettes!
one crystal-clear glimpse
nature's splendor caught aware
between your soul, mine
heavy drooping lids
slowly shutting out the world
curtains for my dreamss
soft pale light beckons
darkness gives way to warm glow
of woodland fungi
brilliant emerald
spectacle of early dawn
rising sun's green flash
old owl gazes out
mouse dares to move into view
now owl is alone
sunlight streaming
through chrystal chandelier
polychromatic
worn valley, tired stream
giggles and laughs in its endless
journey to the sea
adios invierno
The poet translates,
good-bye winter
spring arrives
with hope
The poet comments, "A true story. Well, almost... "
An Easter egg lays
Sunset purple sky
Lazy winds blow fragrant scents
Wish I were there now
Spring rains down at us.
Water falls from the blue sky.
Air is purified.
Finger to thy lips
Winter comes and goes
While I put my ear against
The icy tombstones
Imagination
The wandering of a mind
Goes where it pleases
Autumn forest --
The Ocean's roar
Is echoed
In the tiny shell.
The poet comments, "No? Ah, well, there's always Paris."
Actually, the Sage does the grading. That's why he exists!
wildflowers and weeds,
both sweetly kissed by spring rains;
lovesick frogs chorus!
The poet comments, "seriously, oh sage, i do appreciate this website, velly, velly much. thanks. "
Toast Point bows, as does the Sage.
Michelangelo
summer heatwave
on the freeway
a car full of ferns
canopy of stars
flickering in cadence
to the cricket's song
Words from the earth are
March hare takes back seat
To spring rabbits doing math;
They multiply well
The poet comments, "Is this not true, Annie?"
a cache of children
explosions of pink and blue;
red jelly beans ooze
The poet comments, "needs work - just made it - thinking needs to be cleaned up like a spring garden"
White lightning strikes fast
Then you hear the crash and boom
Don't stand under trees
Airplanes are the best
Jets and planes can go real fast
That's why planes are cool
Note to the poet after removing extraneous punctuation: an apostrophe does not mean "Here comes an S!"
The crack of the bat
We avert our eyes
But cannot make it leave us
It is still here - Death
Mushrooms are nasty
Who in their right mind would eat
Fungus from the ground?
Light and fluffy it falls
Darkness in her life
As she sits in her own fear
She cries with her soul
Chill air with bright sunThe poet comments, "This is my favorite time of year in the Monterey Bay area. "
Weekly ritual -
Leaf-blowers fill patio,
We sweep it back out.
The poet comments, "Talk about an exercise in futility!"
House creaks, swag lamps sway--
Mother nature shakes you up,
lets you know who's boss!
The poet comments, "California living is not all sweetness and light!"
black child hugs white child
rapture fills both small faces
too young for racism
hummingbird hovers
animation of rainbow
colors blur - it's gone
Journey home 'round bends:
Bold sun reaches out to me -
A dazzling waltz.
Clutching her last leaves
She lingers in liquid light:
Forlorn tree shadow.
The poet comments, "I'm feeling like this - winter dread."
The poet comments, "Smudge was a huge black Greenwich Village cat owned by a girl who attempted to carry him in a sack to my basement to eliminate hungry two-foot rats."
early morning ...
last night's perfect haiku
has disappeared
The poet comments, "I saw your haiku on haiku on your best of page and decided to send you this. Also, a note on the 5-7-5 form. Take a look at The Haiku Handbook, William J. Higginson, Kodansha Intl. Tokyo, 1985 p. 100. The Japanese count "onji" which are not exactly the same as a syllable. Higginson argues presuasively that a total of 12 syllables (in English) more accurately translate the Japanese Haiku. I like a 4-5-4 format for writing most of my haiku."
Shadows swirl around
Remnants of another time
Leave the past behind
Snowing in New YorkThe poet comments, "Yes, I'm yet another California native. Monterey is so nice this time of year. "
Cursor stops blinking
Cannot exit the program
Wish I had a Mac
The poet comments, "I'm sure many can relate to this, although I'm the first to admit it happens to Macs as well! :-b "
Sweaty brow, coughing
Cannot stop my runny nose
Damn I hate the flu
The poet comments, "OK, so it's a bit yucky. Not all poetry is sweetness and light (and not all my verses are poetry, true) but I write what I feel."
Got my bonus check
It was only seven bucks
The Fed took it all
The poet comments, "True story. After I left my employer, they sent me a bonus check for the last month I'd been there. $7.00 gross. After Federal, Soc. Security, and everyone else's finger in the pie, the net amount was zero. I just laughed. "
The poet comments, "Hey rating haiku is game, we need tricksters for variety in such a sport."
Hee hee, nice try...
oil-polluted stream
refraction creates rainbows
beauty from evil
Oh, red-winged blackbird
red bird of winter
weaving bright ribbons of flight
in clear, sun-crisped skies.
no coincidence.
our world is one huge "snowflake"
God's own grand design.
The poet comments, "written while in the midst of reading "Conversations with God""
crisp spring morning air
azure sky surrounding all
king of this moment
hard, rough, red sandstone
its ancient soul etched by flood;
sundried lizard skin!
Five graceful figures--The poet comments, "Tai-chi masters help to give California a cosmopolitan flair. Lots of material for haikus on my morning walk."
darkness, wind, and rain
pheasants explode from the brush
man and bird frightened.
The poet comments, "Out of my wits! Actually it's woman and bird. This is autobiographical. I went to my ex-home in a wooded area to prepare it for sale, and landed there in the middle of the night. Walking up the hill in the pitch-dark, wind, and rain, I was startled, to say the least, by a couple of pheasants right next to me on the walk."
The cool, wet, dark earth
sprouts snow-white Amanitas--
lovely, sinister.
old dog and old friends
mom and dad smiling at me
dream ends. I'm alone
The poet comments, "Be gentle, this is my first time....."
born ready to scrap
- compact, spotted, unafraid -
curly-tailed piglets
fluffy white snowflakes
where crocuses lately bloomed
transition to spring
preschool storytime
old tales of small victories
hear them once again
rock-hard lump of bile
grudges hard to leave behind
acid taste of pride
old man waits, lonely
The poet comments, " To Joy"
Bright green grass grows strong
tiny purple flowers bloom
what are those, anyway?
The winter ends soon
The snow melts, the flowers bloom
Rabbits in love mate
Swirling hues of dawn
A flash of birds on the wing;
Suddenly, silence.
Soggy squish of soil
Gray drifts dissipate and melt;
Winds sing winter's dirge.
The poet comments, "To all the people in New Jersey."
I open my mouth
A brown, sun-dried leaf
Falls silently to the ground --
winter approaches.
Oh, smell the fresh basil
in my pasta - the shorn plant
silent, accusing.
fairy ring in groveAwwww....
from the dense grey fog
tolls the doleful lighthouse bell
beware ship beware
Dark skies turning greenThe poet comments, "Well, it's that time again....check your flashlights for fresh batteries, and your radios for the same....."
The poet comments, "It's spring in California! Would New Yorkers recognize an apricot tree?"
What's a tree? Oh, you mean those tall things in Central Park...
hissing sky flies by
a thousand living bodies
sparrows on the wing
early flowers bloom
God whispering his message
I strain to hear Him
The poet comments, "Couldn't resist sending this. Boyfriend's idea of joke."
The worst accusor
A single raindrop...The poet comments, "It's dry season here in South Florida, and the Everglades are burning. As always, I welcome comments and criticism. Thanks for this forum, too!"
Ground gurgles rain-sound
I dream, show to you
fuzzy rabbits, younger eyes
ask me, aren't those clouds?
I watch the sun rise
silent in red, orange, yellow
I crunch cereal
Sandpipers skitter
helter-skelter, as foam floods
their stick-leg shadows
clouds drip-dried in sun
rain fallen, float garnishly
to be worn by sky
nova sun explodes
fire ring blazes into space
ashes to ashes
pilgrim, indian
alien meets alien
"ugly, aren't they?"
Built like a truck,
Man tries to pickup women,
A pickup truck.
Sex and the Church,
She asked "How do you do, father?",
"I'm a missionary, child!"
We march into March
leather on willow
with wooden stumps and white pads
no one really cares
The poet comments, "little kensho, a raindrop on the pond."
Little frog hops byThe poet comments, "I know this is supposed to be about the chill of February, but it's T-shirt weather in Alabama! "
Toast Point notes that it's snowing like mad here in Manhattan.
Children play outside
they scream and run and throw things
hit my car, you die!
AC on bare skin
cool sheets, fan hums, music plays
night holds fast my soul
mountaintop writing
on brilliant azure sky;
clouds scratching fuji
The poet comments, " I lived fourteen months in Gotemba, at the base of Mt. Fuji. What beauty!"
murmuring river
meandering to the sea;
one droplet my life
the roar of city
on a chilly autumn morn
i go off to work!
childhood scents arrive
-- noiseless music of morning --
with freed pillow feathers
rain streaks my window
music fills scented spaces
bread bakes; white dog sighs
logon completed
black letters fill waiting screen
minds connect online
statice and yarrow
wreath to brighten winter walls
stolen summer blooms
His tomb was empty
can we expect miracles?
yes, God still moves stones
chubby fingers curl
palms untouched by our rough world
inside Daddy's hand
