Fallen Leaves

VOLUME 4 - 2004

FEATURE: From the Fallen Leaves (Shu-i-shu)

Susumu Takiguchi, December 2004

GEERT VERBEKE ( BELGIUM )

From: ADA, photos + haiku & senryu, Jenny Ovaere & Geert Verbeke, pub. Empty Sky, 2004

the mendicants

singing in the rain

so many puddles

begging

a long way to go

so many mantras

catching up

about this and that

the smell of tea

little secrets

and a contagious laugh

the fellow-villagers

the toddler plays

with horse-dung

everyone's a winner

in the sanctuary

he lights a candle

a free sample

on the lingam

rain composes

hymns

with goat's blood

he writes words of power

a sacrificial stone

your window

overlooks the fields

and yourself

a hymn of thanks

for a bowl of rice

the old sadhu

top up your glass

have another vodka

lanterns don't dance

he sweeps and sings

gets through the day

with slow gestures

in no time

snow covers

her tombstone

in the melting pot

the ancient stories

of wedding rings

in the jewellery

seeing the melting of gold

feeling rich

the Great Wall

the stones don't talk

about human rights

JOHN STEVENSON

From: quiet enough, John Stevenson, Red Moon Press, 2004

May morning

the door opens

before I knock

first warm day

the ground

gives a little

Main shore

bits of clam

xxbetween my teeth

a deep bruise

I don’t remember getting

autumn evening

summer night

the sound of a car

about to go by

snowy night

sometimes you can’t be

quiet enough

curling tighter

a leaf

catches fire

since you moved

just a road

I don’t go down

June

and the leaves

so green

I almost

tell the truth

seeing it her way

it must have been lonely

living with me

autumn wind

the leaves are going

where I’m going

the ring itself

I don’t remember

as much as

the mark it left

when it came off

Father’s Day

she tells me

I’m not the father

a bit of birdsong

before we start

our engines

all new clothes

waiting for

the school bus

shopping alone

the doors

part for me

after the nightmare

moonlight

in the kitchen

fireflies...

could i still

catch one?

FRANCINE PORAD (USA)

From: Sunlight Comes and Goes: haiku, Francine Porad, Vandina Press, 2004

dampened weeds

weaving them over and under

spokes of the basket

windstorm warning

shore birds scurry through

the waves’ froth

hail warning –

a snake of headlights

on highway curves

‘...I awoke,

and behold it was a dream.’

fifty-three year marriage

(*The first two lines: John Bunyan Pilgrim’s Progress, Part I)

trying to get past

the trying years

to the good memories

sparrow in the mist

fluffed to a fat ball

winter deepens

every day is endless

viewed alone

the full moon

blank calendar

not only a new year

a new life

home alone –

I straighten paintings

on the wall

eye surgery

the shimmer

of moonlight

sixty-ninth birthday

youthful dreams realized

and more

WILLIAM HART ( USA )

From On Cat Time, Timberline Press , USA , 2004

whirling in tandem

a pair of butterflies

follow the wind

summer’s first fly

wanders through

the house

breezy –

a spider’s thread

warps a sunbeam

an acorn knocks

the patio deck

wife away

the tom asleep

on the window’s porch

is losing his sun

fall dusk –

in the house on the hill

all the lights are on

sharing an umbrella

and one wet sleeve

each

rainy day’s end –

sun breaks through

throwing long shadows

summit trail

cloudward

we trudge

DOMINIQUE CHIPOT

From: Lever de rideau, or raising the curtain, Photo-haiku, a photo haiku booklet in French (the following are English translations of a selection of poems)

carnival evening

confetti

even in bed

a young swallow

continues its first flight

the cat back to sleep

new year

beside my parents

new graves

his small posy

so big

for his mummy

end of august –

the grasshoppers take off

in front of the lawnmower

no wind

clouds

hooked to branches

raising the curtain –

tits fly off

not too far from seeds

faded peonies –

my parents’ garden

just a souvenir

snowy morning –

single trace of a cat

gone to sleep