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Mythos
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With a voice of rock
cloud roots insinuate
the underworld |
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They passed through
my birthplace long ago
gods and iron |
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winter respite —
the sun warms
the stone dragon's fire |
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The forms in my dream —
the rose and the snake,
they are similar |
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on the pajamas
of the sleeping baby
the open eyes of lambs |
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Winter night . . .
Hanging from a bare tree
The world of light |
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abandoned shrine
the wishing well
fills with stars |
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I sit, still.
The canyon river chants,
moving mountains. |
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foxgloves —
gathering purple
at dawn |
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the lizard's tail
longs for
sunshine |
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three o'clock sun —
a trail to the kingdom
of ants |
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Till dawn I curl
inside green field mushrooms —
a wood princess. |
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kicking mud
a pond snail coming:
a giant demon |
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saguaro cactus
Grandfather lifts his arms
to the sun |
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sulphur butterfly:
why do you come
as a drunken man |
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from Puvirnituq
this black stone salmon has leapt
to me |
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twilight dusk . . .
placing a cricket on
the dragon's tongue |
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a shooting star
sand dollars accepted
at the toll bridge |
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moonlit water —
the shrimper
nets a starfish |
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chilled to the bone
a seed coral
in the paulownia chest |
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in the rape flower fields
the Virgin Mother
is holding a kitten |
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at the foot of the Cross
a blood-stained snail
becomes a buddha |
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Perhaps tomorrow
I will know a little more —
after my death |
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morning haze —
a ghost cat haunts
the biscuit bowl |
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four a.m.
the libido
of lightning bugs |
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Credits
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With a voice of rock (Slavica Savli, 1:4)
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They passed through (Natssuishi Ban'ya, 2:2)
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winter respite — (Doreen King, 3:3)
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The forms in my dream — (Casimiro de Brito, 2:3)
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on the pajamas (André Duhaime, 2:3)
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Winter night . . . (Jack Galmitz, 2:4)
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abandoned shrine (G. Nunn, 1:3)
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I sit, still. (Michael Garofalo, 2:3)
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foxgloves — (Lorin Ford, 4:1)
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the lizard's tail (Jadran Zalokar, 3:2)
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three o'clock sun — (Fay Aoyagi, 4:1)
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Till dawn I curl (Slavica Savli, 1:4)
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kicking mud (Tateo Fukutomi, 2:2)
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saguaro cactus (Deborah Kolodji, 2:5)
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sulphur butterfly (Patrick Sweeney, 4:4)
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from Puvirnituq (Ruth Holzer, 2:5)
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twilight dusk . . . (Robert Wilson, 4:4)
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a shooting star (Fay Aoyagi, 4:1)
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moonlit water — (Francis Masat, 4:1)
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chilled to the bone (Emiko Miyashita, 3:3)
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in the rape flower fields (Ikuyo Yoshimura, 3:4)
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at the foot of the Cross (G. Rosenstock, 1:2)
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Perhaps tomorrow (Casimiro de Brito, 2:3)
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morning haze — (Chris Eichenberger, 4:4)
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four a.m. (Ellen Compton, 6:1)
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| Themes
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Copyright 2009: Simply Haiku
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