New Haiku

This was a temporary resting place for new haiku that were on their way to finding their true grove in the Bonsai Forest—unless the quality rake got them first. However, most of them have been here so long that they have taken root permanently and resist being transplated

New ones are added at the bottom.

Written to celebrate a new computer:

Love it! It only
Takes a mo;—a mouse, a mat
—Latin half recalled

Raindrops collecting
Each wait their fall from the rail
—All tension released

Here is a very minor, not entirely PC, mirror

‘They don’t coincide,
The numbers, my boy. Sorry
They don’t.’ Cohen sighed

The muse seems to have been off on hols lately, she dropped by at about 05:30 this morning and left this; said she might come back soon...

‘Type in the answer:
How’d you keep a cravat straight?’
Tie pin the answer

There could be some ‘Haiku of Spring’. Meanwhile:

Suddenly aware
The swallows have not arrived
Martin’s feeling sad
Face up to winter
Salty teardrops on life’s road
—Have to grit your teeth

Dagna’s journey to work one morning resulted in a number of Haiku In Passing:

Old pond under trees
Splash! Then ripples radiate—
Not a frog, a duck
In an English pond
Japanese frog unlikely
Splash! It is a duck

Dagna from the train
Notices a pond—a splash—
That Haiku moment
That Haiku moment
I saw a splash in a pond
But sadly no frog

Splash in English pond—
No Japanese frog leaping
No nip in the air

Splash! There is no pond
Only the rainswept pavement
And a passing child

Here is another duck:

Lo! The dawdling duck
The mallard, he lingers on
—Quacking good tune!

Here is a competition for the weekend, all you have to do is come up with a good middle line...

Everest ahead!
[Second line obscured by snow]
—Stumble on a stone

...and the first reply clearly demonstrates that the traditional response of the BSK is to ignore the rules altogether:

Stumble on a stone,
Bang skull on double-glazing
—Everest ahead!

A Classical trio

Basho making notes
Handles water music well
—Frog continuo
Castle has old pond
Basho composes word-sounds
—Inspired by moat’s heart
Post modern frog theme
With endless variations
—Bach to the future

Music but no frogs

When the music stops
The silence between ourselves
Has nothing to say
When the music stops
A rapt few milliseconds
—Thunderclap of hands

Frogs but no music

Beams down to old pond
Listens to frog-like life forms
Leaping at warp speed

IF FROG THEN BEGIN
FOR OLD POND DO WATER SOUND
END ELSE SILENCE. STOP

‘Raining in my heart’
Buddy’s old song. And now I’m
Reining in my heart
Seeking commitment
Miss Piggy tries to suss what
Squeaking Kermit meant

Some film haiku:

The Casablanca Haiku

You must remember—
Of all the ponds in the world
Frog jumps into mine

The Yellow Submarine Haiku

Frog jumps into hole
Falls through the diamond sky
Splashes Blue Meanies

Star Trek

Frog splashes boldly
Where no frog has gone before—
Space—the final pool

A star studded sky
Astronomers see only
A star studied sky

Environmental
Directive bans use by frogs
—Pure, silent water

...and finally:

Hundred frogs gather
Each one has made a splash—now...
Let’s go shake a lake!

I am sometimes inflicted by a haiku, jot it down on whatever bit of paper or card happens to be at hand, and then forget about it. I found this one on a piece of paper in my pocket this morning.

Steely morning light
On the Stour Estuary
Time repeats itself

The middle line could be anything between six and eight syllables, depending on pronunciation, but I believe it is most likely to approximate to seven (four simple syllables and four elided ones). Well, that’s my excuse.

Like Lewis Carroll
When I use a word it has
Exactly as manysyllablesasIwantittohave

In the crowded dark
Cool breeze over the mountains
Refreshes my eyes

I was reading an article about Keanu Reeves— Keanu is Hawaiian for ‘Cool breeze over the mountains’. I loved the phrase, and finally managed to work it into something (with, I hope, two interpretations depending on whether or not the reader recognises the reference)

Anyone who thinks ‘what a sad person’—I am also playing with ‘Sumer is icumen in’. And ‘Lhude sing, cuccu!’

May Day comes next week.
Sumer is icumen in—
Eventually.
Along the bypass
May comes as it always has
Lhude sing, cuccu!
Lhude sing, cuccu!
Drown out this modern racket
With an ancient song.

Heterosexist?
Well, maybe. One simple rule:
Each has a girl’s name
Here are the first six:
Bit of a mixture really
—But then life’s like that

You? An air hostess?
But are you pretty enough?
—They call me Plane Jane
I knew two Julies
In my life. But long ago
I’m Julie grateful
Mary long ago
Some kinds of love come too soon
—Blue eyes remembered
Joan then Jean then June
Long summer by the river
Stepping stones of life
Janet in the spring
Came to me on the rebound
—Alone that summer
Smoothed her rough edges
She wood be on the plane side
Called her Bevelly

Whiled away his time
The Ballad of Reading Gaol
Wilde away. His Time

Do I win an Oscar? And, another couple of girls:

How I miss Wendy
On the quay—will my luck change?
—Wendy boat comes in
Henry ate a plum
Then he gave his girlfriend one—
Henrietta Plum

Gates greater than God!
Creating the universe
God forgot Undo

(Actually this one is serious. All too bloody serious.)

I had a dream...

That all those overheard snippets on mobile phones were written in haiku form

I feel around me
They are all listening—and
Counting syllables
It’s the end of term
So that would explain it then
YOU ARE BREAKING UP
Hello, is Mum there?
No—just tell her I’ll be late
—Who taught you that word?
No I can’t talk now
It would be much better if
U snt a txt msg
I’ll put it in blood
If I can get through to you
—Three red messages
I’ll have to call back
Because I think we’re about
To come to a tun---
If you should want to
Undo your life’s great mistakes
please key 7 now
I’m a quein’ here
Inner Glasgow traffic jam
Aye, McEwan here
Just had to phone you
Made this great Discovery—
I am on the train
Along the cable
Email comes as per usual
Llude sing co.uk!

Both instantiations of the Great Master have now been to Iceland. Here are some light-hearted results:

I’ve been to Iceland!
So—what’s great about that?
—I’ve been to Tesco
Seaborne jaunt fruitless
In Icelandic republic
—So, no prints of whales
Holy days, sagas.
Things have changed in Iceland now
Saga Holidays
Icelandic sagas
Written, they say, long ago
By some old geezers
Such long cold winters
But, if you know where to look
Such boiling hot springs
Bubbles and sulphur
Whiff at random from the spring
—Essence of farting

One particular instantiation has already provided a couple inspired by Iceland. Here are two more::

I stand on the rift—
Europe and America
The world ripped apart
First turn of the tap
In the Reykjavik bathroom—
Have you just farted?

Another haiku bit last night—and, in the biting...

Humid July night.
Dog lies on the bed with me
Stomach to the fan.

It insisted I write it down:

Unable to sleep
The new haiku in my head
Demands recording

So I switched the light on, found paper, looked for a pen—the one by the bed had run out.

Checked spare room for pens—
Found two. Returned in triumph
They had both run out...
The late night haiku
Written in blue eyeliner—
Couldn’t find a pen.

So then I was able to put the light back out and try to get to sleep. Just before I slept:

Above the fan’s roar
The sound of a door closing.
Yes—it was outside!

Here is one of my senryu moments:

What? Infinity?
There is no infinite space—
Thus spake the goldfish

Post-truth politics …

It’s democracy!
Twenty thousand lemmings can’t
possibly be wrong.

Here are three more: one, a seasonal haiku, came to me while I was considering the seasons as I walked across Rushmere Heath a few days ago; the second, cosmological one, came to me an hour or so ago, quickly followed by the third which presented itself to my brain as I was listening to The Third (OK it’s Radio 3 these days).

Picking blackberries
Vinified by summer suns—
Soon the frosts will come

(Inspired by Dagna’s ‘It is now Autumn’, the final haiku of Seasons.)

Random accident
Before time and outside space—
Oops!—Our universe!
Beethoven hears Liszt
A child prodigy perform—
‘That was great!’ (He’s deaf.)

One more

At dawn a pigeon
Comes to rest on my laurels
—Another high coo

Bond kills jokingly
with a muffled PPK
—the jest is silenced.