Posts Tagged ‘ haibun ’

Talk of Sleet | Burn The Water

Walking the edges after rain after rain. I meet the Happy Panda. A Chinese takeaway in Dronfield Woodhouse. I’ve passed it many times but never when open. One man is inside ordering his food by numbers. I like the way the bog standard orange signage is caught in reflection. I don’t go in. It’s hard to believe but my 85 year old mother has never had a Chinese takeaway meal but there’s still time.

talk of sleet
the smell of chicken chow mein
sits behind my eyes

Paul Conneally
Dronfield Woodhouse
12th December 2019

Source: Talk of Sleet | Burn The Water

November Sky | Icebox

November Sky

November sky
Quite as blue as over
April’s blossoms

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My partner and I have been together for over a decade. For several years now, this has been a miracle that, like most miracles, has come to seem everyday.

Yawning blue I
Never tire of you, oh,
Tire not of me

Source: November Sky | Icebox

noise & silence – “insert poetry everywhere anywhere here.” a poem by Donna Fleischer

insert poetry everywhere anywhere here.
by Donna Fleischer

Bar-do teachings say when the dead person walks into the sun, she sees no shadow;

when she looks into a mirror she sees no reflection; when she steps out of the stream

she has no footprints. In this way she learns that she is dead

continued at  Source: noise & silence

A Classic Collection of Loss and Resilience: Deflection by Roberta Beary | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

autumn coolness enters a hand long held in mine

 

Roberta Beary
from Deflection, 2015

 

Source: A Classic Collection of Loss and Resilience: Deflection by Roberta Beary | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

Strawberries and Cream | Burn The Water

 

We move into the spring bank holiday with sunshine. The smell of barbecue drifts garden to garden. I hang the washing out even though I know that my shirts will take on the smell of grilled chicken, beef burgers, smoke. A child is playing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ on a violin. Pushing its weave into my back our rattan chair creaks.

the painted lady
on my arm flexes its wings
strawberries and cream

Paul Conneally

Source: Strawberries and Cream | Burn The Water

The Onion Field – a haibun by Dimitar Anakiev | Icebox

How past repair
this aging onion field…
how the umbels
still hold on for bees
and swooping swallows!

– Branko

Source: Onions | Icebox

The Last of My Wandering Journeys: Part I – The Toné River | Icebox

The Last of My Wandering Journeys: Part I – The Toné River

We had a lot of rain this summer. When autumn came, I was seized with a burning desire to go on a wandering journey. Already eighty-six, with weakening legs, I knew it was going to be the last of my journeys. From the very outset, however, I fully enjoyed this journey, for I had to plan it rather carefully. Wanting to go to remote places I had not seen before, I chose Lake Okutadami in Niigata Prefecture, Ozemiike Pond in Fukushima Prefecture, and Ryuoukyo Gorge and Kinugawa Spa in Tochigi Prefecture. I found out that it would be possible to visit all these places in three days by using local trains and country buses. Timing would be a bit tricky, though, as two typhoons were in the offing! Once the first one had passed, I decided to leave immediately, for there would surely be at least two fine days, perhaps three, before the next typhoon arrived. I had to hurry, though, because one of the buses I wanted to use would stop its service in less than ten days.
………. The typhoon gone by,
………. I watched my dreams revolving
………. Round my little room.
.. So, at Takasaki Station, I got on a local train on the Joetsu Line. Unfortunately, it was one of those rather uncomfortable commuter trains. The main attraction of this line was a long tunnel that lies on the border of Gunma and Niigata Prefectures and I had been wanting to travel through this for the first time in my life. With Takasaki soon behind me, I enjoyed the changing views of Mt. Haruna from the train window. I live at the foot of this mountain, but what I saw from the train window was an entirely different shape. Mt. Haruna has multiple peaks, so that as we move in relation to it, we never see the same mountain form.
.. Soon after the train left Shibukawa Station, I had a spectacular view of the River Toné. As its nickname Bando Taro (First Son of the East Country) indicates, it is one of the largest rivers in Japan. When it came into view, it was near flood level after the typhoon and was collecting the water of a major branch, too, thus almost doubling its size. T. S. Eliot once called the Mississippi “a brown god”. The River Toné was an angry brown god that day.
………. Trees and grasses bow
………. As an angry god cavorts
………. Headlong through the vale.
.. I continued to feel anxious, as I knew the train service could well be suspended before I had finished my journey. My experience told me, though, that the headwaters of the river might already be abating in this fine weather. And, sure enough, the River Toné became less and less brown as I travelled north.

To be continued …

Source: The Last of My Wandering Journeys: Part I – The Toné River | Icebox