Daily Haiku and Waka – July 18, 2016

sweetness
nestling in the spring grass
tiny strawberries

© Gsk ’16

Morning Haiku and Waka – July 1, 2016

illusions –
this jungle chatter of dawn
sighing waves of grass
memories of youthful bliss
playing in my ears

© Gsk ’16

Haiku – June 22, 2016

before the storm
the old rocker creaks
a cricket replies

one mouldy glove
forgotten in the autumn
a drop of rain – falls

© Gsk ‘16

Wordless Wednesday – June 22, 2016

Morning Haiku and Waka – American Memorabilia – October 6, 2015

my first baseball game
watching the Cardinals lose
at Busch Stadium

little Italy
even in St. Louis
walking on the Hill

an Illinois fall
vast fields of soy and sorghum
stunning red tree tops
a tornado siren screams
deer walking Cambria’s streets

© G.s.k. ‘15

Wal-Mart ®

in the early dawn – shopping
cleaning the cart with Wipies ®
an old man in pyjamas
four litres of milk

in the early dawn – shopping
among blankets and donuts
computers, clothes and cell phones
don’t forget the bling

cleaning the cart with Wipies ®
this odd modern novelty
fear of germs and terrorists
pulsing every where

an old man in pyjamas
in the supermarket lanes
imagine an Italian
red-faced with shame

four litres of milk
all in one huge container
everything’s bigger here
walking for miles in Wal-Mart ®

© G.s.k. ‘15

I’d been away from the United States since 1979.  When I arrived, the first thing I noticed of course was the TSA, something that had not existed the last time I’d been home.  A couple in the line before me had a small child and the child, a bottle of milk, which they had to throw in the trash.   I had a box full of rings in my hand bag (we were told to carry valuables in our hand luggage) a beeper beeped and three guards jumped out and told me to open my bag and step back – slowly. A guard took out the box of rings (and just about everything else) and when I tried to help her open it another guard began to shout at me.  They asked me what they were.  I told them – rings (?).  They took my fingerprints – I was worried they’d take my rings too … one never knows what dastardly damage I could have done with them.

paranoia
bling and baby’s formula
flying in the States

© G.s.k. ‘15

(Well, I got carried away with my American Memorabilia and didn’t follow our guest writer very well in his style and spirit … I may try later.)

Carpe Diem Special #171 Cor van den Heuvel’s “baseball”

The goal of CD Special is to try to write a haiku in the same spirit as the poet presented .. today we read about Cor van den Heuvel in the featured article … and here are some of this haiku from which to be inspired:

 

conference on the mound
the pitcher looks down
at the ball in his hand

pitcher and catcher
head for the dugout
the batter stares at his bat

© Cor van den Heuvel (from: baseball)

shading his eyes
the wooden Indian looks out
at the spring rain

late autumn-
sunlight fades from a sandbank
deep in the Woods

© Cor van den Heuvel

Cambria U.S.A. – Kyrielle (Rhymeless)

Kyrielle (Rhymeless)

Cambria U.S.A.

They tell me your party’s over.
The town is just melting away.
Cemetary’s always bigger.
The school closed down yesterday.

People just sleep there now at night,
Families are gone  (but there’s a bank),
The kid’s playground is a dust bin
And there’s no grocery anymore.

The streets are always deserted.
The mailmen don’t have a route there.
Sometimes a deer will pass through though,
Which is an encouraging sight.

They tell me your party’s over
The school closed down yesterday.