Posts Tagged ‘ Taro Kunugi ’

A Shisan | A Hundred Gourds Journal

A Cat’s Footprints

spring mud—
a cat’s footprints
on the hood
shadow of a crocus
on the doorstep
butter melts
in the cast iron pan,
hotcakes sizzle
she also brings coffee
with cream and sugar
with a whisper
tan lines disappear
in the grass
a contrail fades to blue
over a nameless ocean
the full moon
in the sake overflow
on the table
coyote cries echo
from Metacomet’s mountain
children giggle
through the ghost story’s
twists and turns
counting the winnings
forgetting his age
the Jizo’s smiles
seem to grow under
their snowy straw hats
a salt sea breeze
at the kitchen window

A Shisan renku composed on Skype, March 19, 2014

Donna Fleischer, USA
Dennis Chibi Holmes, USA
Taro Kunugi, Japan
Kris Moon, sabaki, Japan
William Sorlien, USA


Earlier this year Taro Kunugi, the leader of the Renku Cafe “Under the Cherry Blossoms” group on Facebook, asked me to lead a shisan with William, Chibi and Donna.

Since I prefer to do renku in person, in real time, we asked Chibi to help us with a Skype session. We all submitted a hokku, but, as sabaki, I wanted to honor Taro, so offered a haiku he had written recently. We all agreed that it would be fun to follow. Our energy was high as everyone was trying to submit a verse for each line. We were in sync as a group and it was delightful to write together. We hope to be creating renku together often.

Metacomet: (ca. 1639 – August 12, 1676), also known as King Philip or Metacom, or occasionally Pometacom, was a war chief or sachem of the Wampanoag Indians in the New England region of the USA.

A Hundred Gourds Journal: haiku, tanka, haibun, haiga, renku.

Typhoon over; by Taro Kunugi

Typhoon over;

Sky’s deeper and bluer

Than my lungs


Taro Kunugi, Japan
September 2013

tinted by, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

tinted by

autumn tints of mountains;

my potted plum

Taro Kunugi
November 2012

Bashō’s Why? / Ecoku

This autumn –

why am I growing old?

bird disappearing among clouds.

Hass, Essential Haiku, 53

Tracing-paper copy of copy of Bashō’s “Nozarashi Kiko” or “Journal of Bleached Bones in a Field”. English translation: Photograph by poet Taro Kunugi


The pairing of the photocopied beginning pages to Bashō’s haibun Nozarashi Kiko or Journal of Bleached Bones in a Field  is purely my mind at play, and not coincidentally, a happy pivot to Bashō’s injunction to “only connect”, connect, that is, the language of the left brain hemisphere with the forms and locus or place of the right hemisphere.

night drive, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

night drive
lightning flashes
inside the car, inside me

Taro Kunugi
July 10, 2012

will someone turn off, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

will someone turn off
the supermoon?
I almost want to hang myself

Taro Kunugi
May 2012

buried in the cherry blossoms, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

buried in the cherry blossoms
how happy I am,
dying alone

Taro Kunugi
April 2012, Japan

full moon, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

full moon
through purple clouds;
the turtle chirps a sutra

Taro Kunugi
April 2012

the rain, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

the rain
narcissi nod
among withered grasses

Taro Kunugi

expected lightness, a haiku by Taro Kunugi

expected lightness
I put a spring cabbage
into the cart

Taro Kunugi
March 2012