Birthday – solo no renga – May 22, 2015


her small hands
touching the temple bell –
an imprint of innocence

© Anmol (HA)

the gong vibrates at dawn
monks light joss sticks and candles

ritual prayers
echo through the air
she listens calmly

among the ancient trees
a single ray of light shines

who is the lady
she never names her name
though she walks with all

familiar but nameless
companion to one and all

visiting all
she makes her presence felt
leaving her imprint

the temple bell now tarnished
these white hairs have grown overnight

another year gone
she walks on another path
touching one and all

© G.s.k. ‘15

Written for Ha’s birthday – Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku with Ha!

Untold Stories – Haibun -May 7, 2015


Sitting in an ER waiting lounge is like sitting not far from a war zone I guess.

Broken people, many old some very young walk, are rolled or carried into the room. Sometimes they look a little scared, others a little lost but all of them seem to look around wondering how their lives seem to have entered a parenthesis, they don’t understand how the hospital system works and what’s expected of them.

The first doctor to look at my husband’s hand has a computer with his desktop divided between two monitors … the desktop on both screens display a large beige photo of Che Guevara.  In his ER greens he’s the farthest thing from a South American revolutionary hero that I can think of but I suppose it’s a statement of sorts, a declaration of some intimate ideal.   Finishing the paperwork, he glances at the hand.

“Yes, it looks broken.” he says and then orders some x-rays and that’s the last time we see him.

We went from ward to ward and even changed hospital at one point.  The people changed and yet somehow they didn’t. Finally the hand’s bandaged but the odyssey wasn’t over.  For the final decision of what his therapy would be, he had a CAT scan. The reception nurse informs us:  “Your appointment will be on Monday morning to see the results.”

faces come and go
dancing on linoleum
under neon lights

© G.s.k. ‘15

Heeding Haiku with HA – Untold Stories

(This is a short follow up of yesterday’s Just a Note Haiku.

Morning Haiku and Waka – Misty Showers of Life – May 2, 2015

Today, I’m going to put two aspects together in order to write my morning Haiku and Waka … one aspect is inspired by our host at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai with his daily intro to Basho (please drop by and have a look at the post HERE) and from our young host at Heeding Haiku with HA (which seems to point in the same direction … but you can read his post HERE).

Here is the haiku Misty showers (with preface):

It rained the day I passed through the barrier, and all the mountains were hidden in the clouds.

misty showers
the day one cannot see Mount Fuji
it is more attractive

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

Basho wrote several haiku about Mount Fuji I have found another nice one:

The wind from Mt. Fuji
I put it on the fan.
Here, a souvenir from Edo

© Basho (Tr. Ryu Yotsuya)



walking the canals
this Venetian souvenir
plop plopping rain drops

  © G.s.k. ‘15

Morning Haiku and Waka for HA – Noise – April 15, 2015


beep – beep … vrummm … screech!
choking in the smog at noon
lovely city spring

a shrill scree – kree!
humph – that bird today at dawn
irritating cock*

chitter chattering
dawn to dusk crowing  buzzing
life in the country

ting tang ting tang ting —
insistent bells announce
the nine o’clock train

ta-thump ta-thump
hear this inner drum beat –

© G.s.k. ‘15

Written for Heeding Haiku with HA … noise

* British for rooster

Morning Prayers – Haiku – April 3, 2015

rays morning

as the first rays of the sun shines
new beginning

the light of a new dawn – born
the cock crows

the moon is setting
the mountains loom in the west
day begins to break

a morning prayer
listen – a blackbird raga
the sun rises

© G.s.k. ‘15

Here is Kala Ramesh’s haiku from which we were to be inspired to write an all new haiku in the same spirit:

Kala Ramesh

morning prayers
the rising sun between
my hands

© Kala Ramesh

linked to: Carpe Diem Special #140, Kala Ramesh’s “morning prayers” and

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku with Ha

Heeding Haiku with HA – Spring – March 26, 2015


sitting in the park
across the stony bridge
speaking of spring

cherry blossoms beckon
ah – warm morning memories

© G.s.k. ‘15


Share a wisp of the air that you are breathing through your haiku or tanka or both with us this week.

Here are some kigo to help you out in your writing: frogs, skylarks, cherry blossoms, spring haze, warm, etc.


Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku with HA

Heeding Haiku with HA – The Scream (Tanka) – March 20, 2015

The Scream by Edvard Munch


silent screams inside
which never see light of day
reading newspapers
man perpetrates horrors daily
his endless quest for power

© G.s.k. ‘15



Heeding Haiku with Ha – Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie


Lonesome American Dreams – Haiga (Haibun) – March 17, 2015


When I returned to the United States after an absence of nearly 30 years in 2010 my sister took me on road trips to any place she thought that I might find interesting.  One of these road trips took us to St. Louis where we visited a farmer’s Market called Soulards,  the Italian quarter known as ‘The Hill’ and of course to a Cardinal’s baseball game.

I think the most interesting spot for me was indeed ‘The Hill’.  To tell the truth, there was little or nothing of modern Italy about it (except for a magnificent, rich, creamy espresso I drank in a Caffè!).  Like most things I found in America, this place was like an echo from another time and place. I’d already noticed that the American’s seem to love to preserve a sort of decay, if I can use that word, that you won’t find in most of Italy and here it was even more apparent.

The buildings, inside and out, were often weathered and dark, with grey creaky floors and yellowed walls.  Italy is yes, ancient and we have oodles of old monuments and ruins, but when you go inside a restaurant, store or someone’s home, everything is bright and pretty much modern.  In some places it seemed that modernization ended in maybe 1955.

Perhaps each is seeking something that seems to be ‘missing’ in their society.  This has been something I’ve pondered on, off and on, since I made that and my subsequent 2012 trip.

from Italy
with dreams of golden paved roads
a house on the hill

© G.s.k. 15


This post was inspired and is linked to Heeding Haiku with Ha (Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie)

Morning Haiku and Waka – Emotions – February 25, 2015

One is certain of nothing but the truth of one’s own emotions.
Howard’s End by E.M. Forster

long faced dude
in frustration rants and storms
tempest tantrum
shouting breaking plates
placated he’s depressed

emotional tempests
from whence do they come
my peace is destroyed
is this Forster’s truth
for which I should be certain


on the lake
early dawn or sunset

sweet babies breath
his perfume intoxicates
besotted mother

looking into his eyes
sea depths of pure beauty
in my mind

the wind chimes
tingling in the summer breeze
here and now


lost in emotions
tempests of passion rage
then the empty void
what is the truth in this
where the certainty
lost in oneself
wanting only what one expects
ones own truths
ones own visions of existence
creating storms of rage
like a child lost
in his own needs and visions
wanting what is known

even happiness
when extreme creates sadness
even love
when extreme creates hurt
better to lose this certainty

© G.s.k. ‘15

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku with Ha