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May 2008 Issue VIII:2

Haiku/Senryu

 



Mouse over the area below each group of poems to reveal the authors or click here to reveal all authors.



 

 

empty rooms—
a raven bursts
from the sun

 
Carolyn Hall

 

 

 

broken chords
from the carousel—
a whale off course
 
amber waves
a tall man demonstrates
the dream
Peggy Willis Lyles

 

 

 

  winter
sun
striping
one
skyscraper
hiding
another
 
on screens overlooking
the Shinjuku station concourse
seals slithering across a floor
  spring sunshine
wrapped in cellophane
the suction pads of squid
dusk by the light of an acetylene torch, its bearer unseen
  under closed circuit
surveillance

old snow

on an island
in the pond
 
Philip Rowland

 

 

 

first day of spring grey matter clouds
winter night settles into a predicted low
thought I was going somewhere March wind
John Stevenson

 

 

 

far below emerald water I peddle my bike
Elizabeth Crocket

 

 

 

winter moon the ticking clock in my teeth

   this hand inside my head grasping at water

Dana Duclo

 

 

 

From my skull
The nubs of antlers grow
In the snow
  The day is done
I pat a tree trunk
and continue on
  Through the corridors
Of my mind my father strides
Across the divide
 
With your heart
Read the world:
Look, the rocks are soft
  Releasing myself
From a lifetime of pain
How bright the pines seem
Jack Galmitz

 

 

 

             a friend's death
in the peach
         a bug disappears
             yes, slug,
each of us
           a bag of juices
 
winter blues
          too much earnestness
in my prayer
   
William Ramsey

 

 

 

light bulb goes dead suddenlywearealltouching
  new recruit
green as the cornfield
under his nails
 
Chad Lee Robinson

 

 

 



 

The universe,
the metropolis,
muted by a nipple

  At the urinal
I throw out the voice
I've invented
 
Like the womb the way you swim with me
Paul Pfleuger, Jr.

 

 

 

dawn mist pebbles stand their ground
thru mist a leak of rhododendron green

invited in the fog of morning all it holds within
marlene mountain

 

 

 

    empty church
richness in the flutter
of sparrow wings

 

full moon her dress on the floor empty

 
Rafal Zabratynski

 

 

 

stand at
river

till you're
river's

standing
form

   
 

jonquils
& violets

have you

in common

 
petals
       sitting down
          together
  brick wall
     out of the wind
           weeping cherry
 

daily
more

wild
flowers
&

scraps
of my
roof

 

 

 

plastic
storm
windows

taken
down

now
no more
ghosts

john martone

 

 

 

from the car
bark inching
toward long good earth

 

how many skies
we have not
found ourselves whole
Meg Pokrass

 

 

winter
thunder
your rhythm
then
mine

 

sun
sunset
dusk
stars
wasting the whole damn day
thinking
of
you

Lee Gurga


 

Tibetan bell
with a wooden stick
I circle Aum

 

breast feeding . . .
was the fragrance of champa
also born of a dream?

Kala Ramesh

 

 


cherry blossoms
I tell my lover
a pink lie

 

Rob Scott

 

 

    returning bones
a stone unwinds
in the breeze
 

hungover   -  ignoble
Jerusalem   -   cactus
pissing       - the cats
    waning gibbous
the increasing density
of fall


unable to find
the cry of the nextdoor boy
spring rain

 

Richard Gilbert

 

 

crease of sunset the past tense of peony

Laryalee Fraser

 

 

her going in her coming the rain before it falls

breath in fog the lingering absence of her voice

Jim Kacian

 

 

late sunflower a black hole

Helen Buckingham

 

 

 

morning after
the wild deer turn back
into collies

 
Roberta Beary

 

Copyright © 2004-2008 by Roadrunner Haiku Journal. All rights revert to the authors upon publication.