Tag Archives: Haibun
I understand why some shutter their windows
But, they eventually need
to let the sun in, to shine through
Looking at the stones I placed around my small flower garden, I noticed this particular one, quite larger than the other ones, was placed in the middle and on top of the small stone wall. It caught my attention as it transformed into a focus that became clearer as I paid attention.
I saw my history from childhood to my children appear and diminish as another transition appeared.
I couldn’t take my eyes from the story-teller stone. Until it all passed, and I could focus, again on my garden.
appearance in Spring
gaiety and rebellion
settles in the fall
Aug. 24th 2020: Quar
Illness and death in a pandemic can become common place, as “Barkers” praise the immune; at the grave site of the families and friends in grief.
flowers fall to ground
as insects chew thru the stem
I opened the door at dusk and caught a good size flash
of white fly in ahead of me.
I close the door and I’m still not sure
if it was a big moth or Tinkerbelle…
The plants wave and sway when I sit down among them, often, even without a breeze. At dusk, at that time, they do get a little bold, as their suitors are asleep counting their blessings..
From dandelions, petunias, coleus, other’s that I threw the tag away at planting, and of course, the neighboring wild daisies; we all seem to have a mutual understanding for each other.
As sunset glows, stopping to affirm our relationship, a humming bird stops by and takes a sip of summer’s last flowers. And as a card in the spokes of a bicycle, flies away as loud as a snore.
crickets rejoice night
settling the day gracefully
Love is an illusion (friendship is instinctive), be just like me or perish (enjoy diversity), only self-serving interests (sharing and participating in another’s), laughing at calamity (understand and re-structure) …
…Love, the unimaginable truth, and its Divinity to commune with understanding family and neighbor, that creates quilted communities, is real. No material of its fibers and colors are independent of itself; unless it stands alone void of inclusion.
Less we push It into something abstract that dis-avows it. Love is not a contract, it’s an allegiance; morally and with mutual integrity that displays Itself, as an outward sign of friendship. Set to become the binding mystery of Love.
August is lazy
stillness does not seek a fight
an agreement made
Who puts a half piece of toast with jelly and peanut butter in the refrigerator at midnight, after eating half of it, ten minutes before?
lightning bug dims
in the light of yesterday
story still untold
So, You told me life never ends. Yet, you want me to sign a contract in blood, with my soul nailed to a post from my past; as you fiddle in hate and roast us in hell.
You promised redemption and Angels for brides! And we would be received to life after. But what are you doing for us now? Without blood, anger or flood to keep our heads above water?
what season is light
when darkness seems to prevail
in hearts without love
QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]
June 18th 2020 QUAR
Ode to my Coleus and her best friends:
Oh! Coleus of majestic colors of red, yellow, and green, standing tall among the pansies and petunias.
The pine New Hampshire mountains, as a back drop, gives the admirer a reflection in the mind. Colorful fantasies even to the blind.
black and white is stark
rainbows from dark clouds bend light
This time, just before dusk, I’ve noticed, on several occasions, a black butterfly. The only reason I notice it, she flutters around the sunflowers, never touching them, and just as quickly, I notice her whizzing by my ear as she flies away. “Sleep tight” I’ve heard.
Now, what the hell is that all about? As I said my prayers.
Chair in the garden
Flowers or vegetables
Space is required
a wine-o’s lament
sometimes i feel no pain,
without memory, history,
or just absent from the space I am.
for a moment or two
or fifty years it’s the same.
i’ve atrophied the ability to understand
or acknowledge the pain.
someday I will only hurt
without pain again.
groom to please caretaker green
wilts when you piss on
Summer’s heat with a cool mountain breeze melts the senesces, as I watch the glitter from the lake below.
bending flower sleep
a noon hour lunch hurries
empty bag to save
Sunset, reminiscent of my sunrise, yet not remembering how I got here.
Oh! I am enjoying how I come and go.
it’s a good evening
sunshine fades with “Bon Nuit”
moon grass celebrates
QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]
June 14th. 2020 QUAR (Sunday)
Loneliness has been good company. It has allowed me to play solitaire with joy and frustration. And eventually urges me to water the plants, for better company.
Old man in the field
Tall grass welcomes summer breeze
Car honks going by
June 15th. 2020 QUAR
Social Distancing to save lives seems to be reasonable:
People seem to be gathering in a lightning storm without being grounded. I saw a bunch of them lined up to get an ice cream cone carrying bottled water. Holy shit! Watch out for the lightning.
Traffic was buzzing as I was leaving off the coast of Rye as I exhale coastal air; heading back to the mountains of Sandwich NH to inhale the rivers, ponds, and lakes. It is different “air”, but here in New Hampshire, neither would exist without the other.
I didn’t speedup, nor had to use my brakes too often, on my way home.
life is in color
each one has its own nature
mindful in the eye
June 16th 2020 QUAR
Father’s day is looming in between the sun and clouds. Each day, as I remember, was a celebration of love and birth.
Life is ongoing
Breaks the ground for a new born
Blooming where planted
I set out to explore an overgrown garden that a previous tenant had started. It still is a beautiful space that someone had lovingly taken care of. Flowers pop up any where they want- in between the tall grass and other nomadic residents.
I put on tick and mosquito repellent then sat down re-thinking my reason for wanting to walk in there. Starring into the old overgrown garden, I saw a path that seem to be inviting me. I got up and walked though it not disturbing anything.
“Let it be” they sang
summer shines before winter
clearing mind and breath
QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]
June 11th. 2020
Thursdays have always seemed to be quite days for me. yet on Fridays, I groom and saddle the horse… and ride her into Monday; tired and happy I walk in with a smile, saddle sore, bow legged, and never wearing spurs.
owl sees at night
daytime sees quick moving grass
best of days are here
June 12th. 2020
I went to the coast today to help an old, self-quarantined friend, Miss Holly. Before heading off from the mountains, I texted her a note. Asking her to text me and let me know what she needed; I would pick it up on my way there. Please text me the list, because I may forget what you have said over your speaker phone; while you were watching the jewelry channel. 😊
The first text listed four items. The second text added another five. The last text included provisions for a bunker and don’t forget toilet paper.
No problem. When I arrived, she sprayed all the bags with disinfectant. I could hear “thru her deep suit diving mask” saying a loud “thank you” and bowing with grace, “ be safe”.
She couldn’t see the smile behind my mask; so I winked at her and told her “I would see you next week. I’ll call and check on you during the week”.
June 13th. 2020
Miss Holly, has sold her house and has moved into a “senior village”. As usual she’s a little paranoid of people spaced within 300 feet or less of her property. She feels safe there but she still locks her door.
After I run her errands, from groceries to printer ink, to medication, and to the next town for a scooter battery…( that was impossible to replace, having sat there for 2 years melted to the casing). I would sit, as I usually do, a little tired and smiling, on Miss Holly’s porch. I open a bottle of beer, lite a cigarette and take out my notebook and given the space to write, enjoying where I am.
I’ll often look up to see strolling villagers. I think there’s about a hundred of them; widowers, widows, old couples and friends. Not all stroll by, but those that do wave and we exchange our gratitude for the day.
Flower between rock
Rain washes the grass true green
Time is age well spent
April 17, 2020
i have no place to be going to
and with no hurry to get there
it seems, i have been here before.
there is no place to go
other than where i was going.
i am caged within the parameters
of whom i am.
my walk is slow and secure—
as I find where i am going;
with wisdom, compassion, and the knowledge
of understanding of who i am.