Tag: Haibun
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26 May: GoDogGo Haibun
Inside Himself He’s happy. The Lego piece fits. That piece, which sat waiting, abandoned at the corner of the table in that space which bears his invisible question mark, well that piece now fits into the whole of it. And then, Oh man! he says, as a small red block with one nipple falls off,…
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24 May: A dVerse Summer Haibun
A robin’s on the fence, facing the neighbours garden, waiting for worms or bugs or both. I’m cutting chives to garnish cooked eggs. Hello there, I say as if a bird gives a tick about good manners and idle pleasantries. But to my surprise, it turns and stares at me. Its feathered breast is the…
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Day 7 GloPoWriMo: I Feel Sunshine
The less you talk, the more you’re listened to ~ Pauline Phillips I Feel Sunshine – (reading time: 00:58:57) I was born after Mum ate an abundance of chilli, and then took a walk on the sand dunes. That’s when all the wailing began. Not Mum, the doc knocked her out cold, back then natural…
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dVerse Haibun Monday
A View of the Cherry Tree in Moonlight The cherry tree is kissed by moonlight, it wakes as I sleep, as silver slides between its limbs, as my heart gently knocks against my ribs like uneven stairs. It wakes me from soundlessness and breathing, and even in first hours after midnight, I see moonbeams spread…
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09.03.22 Haibun Wednesday
This Morning. I’ve left my coffee somewhere. Out in the garage I think. When I went to get some chicken thighs out of the freezer. The leeks in the fridge are a bit impoverished, so I’ll roast up the chicken thighs with leeks and peas. And white wine. For that I’ll need to raid Mister’s…
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05.03.22 Haibun Wednesday
5 March/22: Hope is a free-radical. It’s the beginning of loss. It exists to mark where loss begins. I’m beginning to think that hope is the beginning of every loss. The beginning of anything that we’re attached to. Freedom. Life. Liberty. Family. We get used to loss, although I tend to lose things slowly. Losing…
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02.03.22: Haibun: Ode to Billy
Mum was always saying “pipe-down” or “quiet about that” – but my sister and I had a blind spot of affection for him. This distant, and long dead relative that Mum said was a smudge on a line. Billy was his name. A wind-grazed face, rocky as a landscape. Dusty as death. Those eyes dark…
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01.03.22 dVerse Haibun Monday
AN ODD AND UNEVEN TIME February was a dark wilderness. Floods and rain, gales that flung trees to the ground sure as they be Icarus. We tidied up after, our hearts were obsessed by reordering the disorderly. And then the wars began, though no one wanted to call it a war. How dark must it…
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23.2.22: Haibun Wednesday
The trouble with Salt And then the sea dawns. Its salt dissolves into salt, into itself. It’s a new day of slow dehydration. A life-long osmosis into dust and dryness. Dry words, dry humour, dried up and wrinkled … wrinkles on thin skinned; wrinkles in plans; wrinkles in love … And the sea’s tongue grates…
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22.02.22 The Grave of Arigdor Kara
The Grave of Arigdor Kara He returned to cool soil, and took his own truth with him. A cup of poetry beside his faith. They buried him below a granite slab, now lichen skimmed and shadow roots. The rabbi said his was a short lived bliss. Now strangers mark his passing, walk by his grave.…
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