2011/04/01
Hokusai's wave
moves the wall
upsetting print
--Richard Jodoin (Quebec)
* * *
Basho's road
throughout Tohoku--
hope remains
--Stephen J. DeGuire (Los Angeles)
* * *
Calm, placid ocean
suddenly raised up and reared
its venomous head
--Kevin Kato (Iwate)
* * *
Wings of the crane
I too close my arms...
Tokyo blue
--Romano Zeraschi (Italy)
* * *
Gorgeous wings
ravenously peaked
blue heron
--Michael Corr (Nagoya)
* * *
The spring sea
suddenly changes her face
Prajna
--Fusayo Kawano (Fukuoka Prefecture)
* * *
Earthquake--
the whole night
lights in the Japanese shop
--Vladislav Hristov (Bulgaria)
* * *
After the earthquake
the moon in her cup
still quivers
--Jacek Margolak (Poland)
* * *
Lost in a village
creamy white magnolia
guide to heaven
--Asako Utsunomiya (Hiroshima)
* * *
Silent spring...
this table too large
for us two
--Yutaka Kitajima (Joetsu, Niigata)
---------- FROM THE NOTEBOOK ----------
Stacking firewood
my son wants to know
all about tsunami
--Ralf Broker (Germany)
The process of chopping and stacking firewood is usually a meditative time for the haikuist. Perhaps he lives a secluded life, or he is enjoying a few days vacation at a cabin. But the news of a giant earthquake, relentless tsunami and nuclear fallout in Japan have shocked the world and reached the haikuist's son. In the following one-line haiku, Martina Heinisch appeals to the moon for an answer to the suffering of so many people in Japan: Borderland ask questions to the moon
Driving home from a funeral in California, Rod Gardner stopped to think what a grieving grandson might be thinking.
Wait for rain to stop
wet street reflects light shadows
thinking of Grandma
Murasaki Sagano's mother passed away on March 16.
Mother's pain
into the spring sea
her last sleep
Quebec-based poet Richard Jodoin composes a two-line haiku with the hint of a grin.
Her mud pie in a hubcap
ghost of a smile from granny
Here are two poems about the unraveling of time from Penny Harter's 1980 chapbook, "The Orange Balloon."
the old ragdoll
her shoe
unstitching
* * *
the old doll
her mama-box broken
to half a cry
Hidehito Yasui marvels at the quiet onslaught of the tsunami. During a blackout in Romania, Cezar-Florin Ciobica cherishes the glow from magnolia. In Virginia, Bill Cooper sees his favorite flower everywhere.
Silent waves
conceal its energy--
the spring sea
* * *
Power break
magnolia lighten
the graveyard
* * *
Brick upon brick
sidewalk to stoop
magnolia
Surveying his environment on the Kanto plain, Yasuomi Koganei realizes he has nowhere to escape. Halfway round the world in Germany, Ralf Broker tries to share a little humor, or is it fear, about nuclear fallout from Japan. Rahadian Tanjung looks skyward in Indonesia. Rob Scott comments on the radiation from the sun in Stockholm.
No higher ground
near these paddy fields
M9.0 and tsunami
* * *
Lenten season--
how far is it from here
to Fukushima?
* * *
A tiny speck
flying through the air
the windy day
* * *
Radiation soars
plum blossom buds
about to burst
Ramona Linke pleads with the earthquakes to stop by reciting prayers while folding paper cranes in Germany.
Aftershocks--
I'm trying to fold
paper cranes
Time stood still for three days until Raj Bose received a reassuring message from his son in Tokyo. Yutaka Kitajima waited for news from his daughter all night in Joetsu, Niigata Prefecture. Chieko Alford in Albuquerque, New Mexico, sends her best wishes to family in Osaka in 5-7-5 syllable form. She lives in Virginia now, but Juli Jergensen retains fond memories of living on the northeast coast of Japan.
"Daddy I'm fine"
time stopping and restarting
e-mail from Tokyo
* * *
March 11
10 hours to get through
to my daughter
* * *
Together we grieve
united we are stronger
time will heal all things
* * *
Shifting earth in spring
ocean surges to engulf the
promise of the land
Sending her best wishes from Barcelona, Sandra Voetberg looks forward to the cherry blossom season. Yuji Hayashi offers his optimistic view of the tsunami from Kitakyushu. Teiichi Suzuki shares his views of the disaster from Osaka. Isao Soematsu gazes seaward.
Soon when sakura
covers the land with petals
beauty will prevail
* * *
Any tidal wave
any quake never could
wipe out a nation
* * *
Tsunami
memories and communities
erased in flood
* * *
An island
wrapped in the mist of spring
dimly visible
--------------------------------------------------
Readers are invited to send haiku with a hint of humor for the April 15 and 29 issues of the Asahi Haikuist Network. Mail a postcard to David McMurray, International University of Kagoshima, Sakanoue 8-34-1, Kagoshima, 891-0197, e-mail (mcmurray@fka.att.ne.jp) or fax 099-263-0527.
moves the wall
upsetting print
--Richard Jodoin (Quebec)
* * *
Basho's road
throughout Tohoku--
hope remains
--Stephen J. DeGuire (Los Angeles)
* * *
Calm, placid ocean
suddenly raised up and reared
its venomous head
--Kevin Kato (Iwate)
* * *
Wings of the crane
I too close my arms...
Tokyo blue
--Romano Zeraschi (Italy)
* * *
Gorgeous wings
ravenously peaked
blue heron
--Michael Corr (Nagoya)
* * *
The spring sea
suddenly changes her face
Prajna
--Fusayo Kawano (Fukuoka Prefecture)
* * *
Earthquake--
the whole night
lights in the Japanese shop
--Vladislav Hristov (Bulgaria)
* * *
After the earthquake
the moon in her cup
still quivers
--Jacek Margolak (Poland)
* * *
Lost in a village
creamy white magnolia
guide to heaven
--Asako Utsunomiya (Hiroshima)
* * *
Silent spring...
this table too large
for us two
--Yutaka Kitajima (Joetsu, Niigata)
---------- FROM THE NOTEBOOK ----------
Stacking firewood
my son wants to know
all about tsunami
--Ralf Broker (Germany)
The process of chopping and stacking firewood is usually a meditative time for the haikuist. Perhaps he lives a secluded life, or he is enjoying a few days vacation at a cabin. But the news of a giant earthquake, relentless tsunami and nuclear fallout in Japan have shocked the world and reached the haikuist's son. In the following one-line haiku, Martina Heinisch appeals to the moon for an answer to the suffering of so many people in Japan: Borderland ask questions to the moon
Driving home from a funeral in California, Rod Gardner stopped to think what a grieving grandson might be thinking.
Wait for rain to stop
wet street reflects light shadows
thinking of Grandma
Murasaki Sagano's mother passed away on March 16.
Mother's pain
into the spring sea
her last sleep
Quebec-based poet Richard Jodoin composes a two-line haiku with the hint of a grin.
Her mud pie in a hubcap
ghost of a smile from granny
Here are two poems about the unraveling of time from Penny Harter's 1980 chapbook, "The Orange Balloon."
the old ragdoll
her shoe
unstitching
* * *
the old doll
her mama-box broken
to half a cry
Hidehito Yasui marvels at the quiet onslaught of the tsunami. During a blackout in Romania, Cezar-Florin Ciobica cherishes the glow from magnolia. In Virginia, Bill Cooper sees his favorite flower everywhere.
Silent waves
conceal its energy--
the spring sea
* * *
Power break
magnolia lighten
the graveyard
* * *
Brick upon brick
sidewalk to stoop
magnolia
Surveying his environment on the Kanto plain, Yasuomi Koganei realizes he has nowhere to escape. Halfway round the world in Germany, Ralf Broker tries to share a little humor, or is it fear, about nuclear fallout from Japan. Rahadian Tanjung looks skyward in Indonesia. Rob Scott comments on the radiation from the sun in Stockholm.
No higher ground
near these paddy fields
M9.0 and tsunami
* * *
Lenten season--
how far is it from here
to Fukushima?
* * *
A tiny speck
flying through the air
the windy day
* * *
Radiation soars
plum blossom buds
about to burst
Ramona Linke pleads with the earthquakes to stop by reciting prayers while folding paper cranes in Germany.
Aftershocks--
I'm trying to fold
paper cranes
Time stood still for three days until Raj Bose received a reassuring message from his son in Tokyo. Yutaka Kitajima waited for news from his daughter all night in Joetsu, Niigata Prefecture. Chieko Alford in Albuquerque, New Mexico, sends her best wishes to family in Osaka in 5-7-5 syllable form. She lives in Virginia now, but Juli Jergensen retains fond memories of living on the northeast coast of Japan.
"Daddy I'm fine"
time stopping and restarting
e-mail from Tokyo
* * *
March 11
10 hours to get through
to my daughter
* * *
Together we grieve
united we are stronger
time will heal all things
* * *
Shifting earth in spring
ocean surges to engulf the
promise of the land
Sending her best wishes from Barcelona, Sandra Voetberg looks forward to the cherry blossom season. Yuji Hayashi offers his optimistic view of the tsunami from Kitakyushu. Teiichi Suzuki shares his views of the disaster from Osaka. Isao Soematsu gazes seaward.
Soon when sakura
covers the land with petals
beauty will prevail
* * *
Any tidal wave
any quake never could
wipe out a nation
* * *
Tsunami
memories and communities
erased in flood
* * *
An island
wrapped in the mist of spring
dimly visible
--------------------------------------------------
Readers are invited to send haiku with a hint of humor for the April 15 and 29 issues of the Asahi Haikuist Network. Mail a postcard to David McMurray, International University of Kagoshima, Sakanoue 8-34-1, Kagoshima, 891-0197, e-mail (mcmurray@fka.att.ne.jp) or fax 099-263-0527.
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