Jen's Haiku

I'll make my brief little poetic statement regarding my haiku. I enjoy 5-7-5s and will write them.  I consider those syllable counts maximums but will often write haiku with fewer syllables in each line (this from the understanding that in Japanese it's more common for a single word to have 5 syllables–or even 7, whereas in English it's much less common, so the form doesn't carry over very accurately from Japanese to English). I stick with haiku being imagistic but other than that anything goes. I enjoy experimentation. I've enjoyed writing haiku in the past, though have never been considered any good at it by anyone's estimation. Which is fine. To me, forms are primarily for play. Part of the beauty of haiku is that it makes one more aware of one's surroundings–always looking for something to turn into the next haiku.

As for the challenge, it's a haiku a day for a little over 2 1/2 years. I'm not the most reliable person for online projects, but I bet I can do that. One year when I was ill, I set myself the goal of writing as many poems in a year as Emily Dickinson did in her most productive year: 366. A poem a day +1. I'm busier now but a haiku a day seems like a good discipline for a generally pooped poet. Hopefully it will revive me. Thanks for making the suggestion, Samme.

Here's my first one:

Rain loosened
pecan hulls drop
plop pop

Re: Jen's Haiku

Cooper's Hawk
shadow between talons
rooted in the lawn

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Black curtains, dark morn
drip, patter, drumming
slow awakening

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Broken trees
remaining flood waters braid
mud

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Brisk wind
Neighborhood barkers
Absent

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Cold morning
Sunny window silhouettes
leap

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Cats under covers
Dogs before space heaters
Wooly slippers

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Wilted pansies
Fill form again next day
buds held aloft

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paper crinkles
“thanks” “where did you find this?!” “cool”
warm sunlight

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wide grassy field
small white dog zips, turns, zips
turns, zips at your call

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coffee brewing
pile of cock-eyed papers
dormant cell phone

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sunny day
cat yowling at the window
birds on the lawn

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black curtains
smell of musk
a sigh

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floral couch
puckered lump of blanket
black nose

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forest scent
blue water rippling
cawk of heron

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candle flame
berry scent set free
darkness flickering

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weight of blankets
humming space heaters
dog sigh

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bright dawn
walls glow
silence

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smile
thin white hair brushed by the breeze
tears among wrinkles

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soft fur under hand
glow of light on eyelids
gentle sighs

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lazy winter night
pop crackle whizzzzz POP BANG pfft!
silent stars

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dirty windshield
glare of oncoming headlights
pawprints

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barren oak
a hawk breaks loose, wings spread wide
peace–and then one more

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Squirrels race
Branches dip, bob, and sway
Fluffy tails spin

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rain upon rain
ditches become rivers
lamplight smears

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misted mirror
warm rosy skin
cool draft

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whipping branches
whipping hair
head down

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ticking clock
humming computer
busy screen

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itchy scarf
chilly breeze ruffling grasses
sound of traffic

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fresh scent
white frost covers all
car and grass blades

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vacuum cleaner drone
bright daylight through windows
no obstacles

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sun and cool air
piles of russet leaves
children laughing

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tingling nose
sting of cold on bare skin
empty mailbox

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blue fading to black
a warm breeze caressing all
faint stars

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bare trees
brown grasses shaped by wind
warm sun on cool cheeks

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space heater white noise
white sunlight on light walls
cold draft

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pit bull asleep

lunge rawf!! lunge lunge rawf!! rawf! rawf

grrrrrr mph

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Steam rising

Hands warm down to fingertips

Coco

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crumbling sandstone set

log border laid in place

sun above

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work gloves

wheelbarrow moving rocks

garden emerging

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skittering leaves

hair whipped across my face

spring approaches

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scraaaaape in the night

I stalk the house for bogeys

all is still

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Wind in my hair

The zipping sound of bike tires

Glee in my soul

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bass bows saw wildly

conductor hops on his stand

thunderstorm rolls in

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Sunshine on my skin

Scent of water in the air

where are the flowers

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swinging wide the door

inhaling weak morning sun

warm air and good news

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insects awaken

cats bat at shadows on drapes

bugs that can’t be caught

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lamplight overhead
writing pad on my lap
heating pad against my back

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memory triggers
images from magazines
send thoughts near and far

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dimmed lights
soothing music
painful prodding

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rakes and shovels
quiet companionship
bare ground

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chores and weariness
kisses and embraces
union

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breaking ground
raking out rocks and debris
spreading good soil

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pen in my hand
cats on my lap and chest
no way to be sad

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squandering
or a path to plenty
or a letting go

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Sun through west windows
cats sleeping on the bed
squeaky school bus brakes

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Blanket flopping
snarling and twisting
black nose appears

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robins chirping
dogs laid out in the sun
tips of tulip spears

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Louder than traffic
Peepers announcing spring
Leafless trees

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pine cone littered ground
 
rustling of calf-deep leaves
 
at last a trail

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trail leads to creek
 
falls above falls above pool
 
and secrets beyond

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inhale the morning
without expectation
juice of beginnings

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jog behind tails
jog into the warm day
walk home

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blast of wind
creakings and scrapings
dogs alert

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a few daffodils
forsythia’s little pops
wet earth

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open field
open blue sky
wide open run

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eyes on dark soil
dark hair absorbing sun
dirty hands

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sore shoulders
 
ground covered with mulch
 
waiting to plant

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strolling aisles
of feed, seed, tools of the earth
land of dreams

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robins battling
tiny birds too fast to see
a dove roosting

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robins hopping
kinglets flitting among twigs
waxwings in treetops

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stuck staring straight
I miss the earth and the sky
roots and wings

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dreams of roses
shovels and picks, sand and block
dreams of riches

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I want it all
iris and lilies, foxglove
roses and poppies

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Leaving the trail
Getting comfortably lost
shade and light as guides

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bare forest
sequestered cove
coots scatter

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Sweet cocoon morning
Pretending no work awaits
Only sun-drenched books