HAIKU DIALOGUE – Finding peace and contemplation… in leisure time… making music
Finding peace and contemplation… in leisure time with Guest Editor Marietta McGregor
At times in our lives, fast-moving events of our day-to-day existence may become overwhelming. Between work and family responsibilities, daily needs and doomscrolling, days rush by in a breakneck blur and we sometimes end the week with a sense of ‘where did that go?’ We’re surrounded by the wonders of our shared universe. Maybe it’s time to become immersed in the enjoyment of one aspect of this spectacular world which amazes, delights and refreshes us. We can marvel at the night sky or clouds by day, cheer a ladybug as it climbs a twig and opens its wings, dangle our feet in a cool river, rest in a tree’s benevolent shade, stroke velvety green moss, smell ozone freshness at the coast, crunch through frosty grass, listen to morning birdsong, taste a last autumn apple. Small pauses in quotidian life may be devoted to living slower, using every sense, and sharing our pleasure through poetry. Simple gifts.
Each week for the next few weeks there will be a photographic prompt on the theme of ‘Finding peace and contemplation. . .’ with images capturing moments when we might seek inspiration if the going gets tough. I look forward to reading your personal response to the moments you’ve discovered.
next week’s theme: … flying kites
To me there is something joyful about a kite, and I can imagine these butterflies fluttering high in the air. A brisk breezy day, then a headlong dash along an open beach, down a hill or across an oval to get them airborne. Launched, the kite soars above our heads, dipping and swooping, tethered by a taut twanging string which threatens to snap at any second. Once it’s airborne, flying a kite is relaxing. It’s an excuse to get out in nature, feel the power of wind, and gaze at sky and clouds. For those of us who spend time closely focused on a screen, kite flying is said to be good for the eyesight. I invite you to write about experiences with kites, festivals which feature kites such as Children’s Day in Japan with their special koinobori or carp kites, or making your own kites to fly.
The deadline is midnight Eastern Daylight Time, Saturday April 23, 2022.
Please use the Haiku Dialogue submission form below to enter one or two original unpublished haiku inspired by the week’s theme, and then press Submit to send your entry. (The Submit button will not be available until the Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in.) With your poem, please include any special formatting requirements & your name & residence as you would like it to appear in the column. A few haiku will be selected for commentary each week. Please note that by submitting, you agree that your work may appear in the column – neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent. All communication about the poems that are posted in the column will be added as blog comments.
below is Marietta’s commentary for making music:
A very enjoyable musical set of poems this week, and again my great thanks to everyone for so enthusiastically responding to the prompt. Your musical experiences were very personal, often involving family, or road trips, or being close to nature. There were nostalgic and wistful references to songs and singers, and riffs on the many different styles of music and ways of making music, from classical jazz to a child’s battered drum. Some played or still play an instrument, others wish they did. Thank you for sharing your poetic music with us all, and thanks as always to The Haiku Foundation, Kathy and Lori for our enriching Haiku Dialogue.
pulling weeds
the creole in Papa’s
singing voiceBryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois USA
Tending to a garden, whether ornamental or productively supplying the family food, is hard repetitive slog. Many like to sing as they work, believing jaunty rhythms lighten some of the burden. One of my son’s horticulturist workmates at a tree farm would sing songs of his Spanish birthplace while swinging a mattock between the tree rows. In this haiku the poet picks up a new cadence in a parent’s songs while they work, carrying the lilt of half-remembered folk tunes from a long-ago country childhood.
from the top
of the scaffolding
the urge to singHelene Guojah
UK
This haiku puts me in mind of my visit some years ago to the top of the Empire State Building, where I viewed old black-and-white images of the original workers balanced precariously on girders spanning the voids. I can imagine the exhilaration of being cloud-high above a city, with not even a hum of traffic to break the silence, and in those days few restraints like safety harnesses. You could open your lungs and belt out a song, never worrying that you’d hit a wrong note. I think the single sentence-form haiku works well here, impelling a quick read and thus reinforcing the sense of a joyous impulse.
mountain mist
the sound of orchids
from his fluteTeji Sethi
India
This ethereal haiku uses the technique of synesthesia to good effect. The setting is mysterious – the poet takes their reader to a mountain shrouded in fog, where visibility is low and senses may be heightened. We imagine the plaintive tones of a flute from somewhere nearby, although we cannot see the musician. The notes could be described as faintly white, just as Bashō imagines the cry of a wild duck in his famous haiku. But here the poet transposes the sweet flute notes into flowers. And not just any flowers but the waxy perfection of orchids. Paul Miller’s essay, “Haiku Toolbox: Synesthesia” discusses synesthesia as a technique to help deepen meaning when writing haiku.
music rolls
on the sound of coins
a subway serenadeMelanie Vance
USA
Buskers in subways are ubiquitous. And a certain encouragement for their continued playing is the clatter of a handful of coins into invitingly open instrument cases. In this haiku we perceive coins rolling in the case as they are tossed in by passersby, followed by the on-cue roll-out of a musical piece, the two together making up a distinctive melody repeated over and over in the course of a street musician’s day. Music to order, while the money flows. The haiku makes use of sibilants so that the words roll off the tongue just as the busker’s music, and the next train, roll through metro tunnels and into a station.
& here are the rest of the selections:
just the tune
memory accompanies
with all the restDick Pettit
Nordborg
the volume goes up
after the sun goes down
Bach’s Cello SuitesRonald Degler
Harbor City, CA
tree tops
in harmonic motion
wilderness musicPadmasiri Jayathilaka
Sri Lanka
first kiss
the music
between usStephen A. Peters
Bellingham, WA
wind harp
the song
of a soft spring rainmarilyn ashbaugh
edwardsburg, michigan usa
high school marching band
the varying confidence
of wayward tubasSheila Barksdale
Gotherington, England, U.K.
rain forest—
the song of a monkey
on my stereoforesta pluviale—
il canto di una scimmia
sul mio stereoDennys Cambarau
Sardinia, Italy
beans for lunch—
whole family
makes musicAljoša Vuković
Croatia, Šibenik
old flute
her music ambitions
hung up on the wallDeborah Karl-Brandt
Bonn, Germany
charley horse
the radio alarm plays
a waltzRichard Straw
Cary, North Carolina, USA
dementia—
his finger
still follows the tuneTony Williams
Scotland, UK
saxophone player—
carried away by a jazz tune
in the streets of New YorkNicole Pottier
France
siblings band:
with card-board drums and broom guitars
we ob bla di o bla daHla Yin Mon
Yangon, Myanmar
buzzing
putting some ass
in the brassRoberta Beach Jacobson
Indianola, Iowa, USA
day moon
the laughing boy’s broken-skinned
drumAlan Peat
Biddulph, United Kingdom
four hands
on the piano
a serenade flowsRavi Kiran
India
temporary lull
throughout my dream
a waterspout’s songAnitha Varma
Kerala, India
spring melancholy
a night bird sings
it’s okay, it’s okayJackie Chou
United States
unable to read music
the beauty
of a piano sonataOlivier Schopfer
Geneva, Switzerland
cider bruises
my head—
twelve bar bluesDavid Cox
Torquay, UK
Learning violin—
my parents banish me
to the garageJenny Shepherd
London
Kenidjack valley—
water falls on water;
half-remembered songsVivienne Tregenza
Penzance
silent symphony
a field of wildflowers
sways with the breezeTiffany Shaw-Diaz
United States
summer bliss—
a windchime
lulls me to sleepPaul Callus
Malta
toddler drummer
all the sounds
my head makesMaurice Nevile
Australia
a deaf man
dancing in the rain—
rain’s musicMarius Alexandru
Chicago, USA
song writing
the rhythmical stirrings
of early morningAngelo Ancheta
Philippines
her flute
and the hermit thrush
a relayNeera Kashyap
India
spring breeze
jamming together
nature and my fluteangin musim semi
bermain musik bersama
alam dan sulingkuChristopher Calvin
Kota Mojokerto, Indonesia
woolly clouds
my guitar song becomes
a lullaby for my catKeiko Izawa
Japan
♯and♭—
whistling towards
bush warblersTeiichi Suzuki
Japan
boatman’s song
the oar beats water
offbeatSudebi Singha
Kolkata, India
the unforgettable music
in this one life—
first cry of my babyRam Chandran
India
kitchen music
we orchestrate
the Diwali feastShobhana Kumar
India
piano time
a neighbor stops mowing
to listenPris Campbell
US
foot tap
notes that draw me
to danceSusan Bonk Plumridge
London, Canada
chords vibrate
I almost feel
the music of the spheresPat Davis
NH USA
the player gone
melody still lingering
around the house不见援琴人
但闻仙乐入耳来
余音绕栋梁bu jian yuan qin ren
dan wen xian yue ru er lai
yu yin rao dong liangXiaoou Chen
Kunming, China
not a dry eye
the rescued girl
singing rainbowM. R. Defibaugh
United States
rocking my baby
humming an old lullaby
I nod offGloria Whitney
Findley Lake, New York, USA
love-in-idleness . . .
under my thumb
slight pulse at your wristLuciana Moretto
Treviso, Italy
shelter
the familiar lullaby
of a strangerMirela Brăilean
Romania
Spring . . .
the tune of my breath
in the fluteNisha Raviprasad
India
night sky
the earth hums
in B flatKaren Harvey
Pwllheli, North Wales
honky-tonk bar
strident notes play
pass the boozeMarilyn Ward
UK
bad luck and trouble
in a battered guitar case
all he ever hadMark Meyer
Mercer Island WA USA
pianissimo—
an ebony note
in my persimmon teaPippa Phillips
United States
old drummer
brushing the skins . . .
mellow moonBarrie Levine
Massachusetts USA
at a stop sign
the redwing blackbird’s callMatt Cariello
Bexley OH
networking with my soul handpan
Arvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India
morning raga
the dew slides from one leaf
to anotherMinal Sarosh
Ahmedabad, India
clouds of flowers
on the old magnolia
cello symphonyLouise Hopewell
Australia
child’s voice
a clouded carol
candlelitRicha Sharma
India
spent storm
she scrapes the rust off
guitar stringsVandana Parashar
India
pasque flowers
a plain and simple
hymnKeith Evetts
Thames Ditton UK
ektara strains . . .
on the evening breeze
an ancient tuneFirdaus Parvez
India
mystical evening
my father’s flute
behind the hillStoianka Boianova
Bulgaria
playing a waltz . . .
the love words
I don’t forgetRosa Maria Di Salvatore
Catania, Italy
exit sign
three kids playing
to an empty clubTim Cremin
Massachusetts
intimate karaoke
once a month
I’m King LizardMircea Moldovan
România
a wild duet
I rap the words
to a woodpecker’s beatTracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK
tapping to granddad’s fiddle
we listen
by muscle memoryLaurie Greer
Washington, DC
another ad—
on battery power
that musical chimp . . .Robert Kingston
United Kingdom
jam session—
improvising
a shy kissDan Iulian
România
organ pipe cacti
music for
the eyesSusan Farner
USA
my cage
is a stage—
canaryDan Campbell
Virginia
toe tapping
the sympathetic
tail of the dogsimonj
UK
cottage lake
adrift with rowboats
jazz under the starsMaxianne Berger
Outremont, Quebec
earphones—
our song
shows me the wayauricolari—
la nostra canzone
mi mostra la stradaMaria Teresa Piras
Sardinia, Italy
sparks rising starward campfire songs
Cynthia Anderson
Yucca Valley, California
the sand dance
no longer quite so PC
how father made us laughIngrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
handpan music—
memories of my friend’s handsMúsica del tambor handpan . . .
recuerdos de las manos
de mi amigo(handpan: a metal drum in the shape of a flying saucer)
Julia Guzmán
Córdoba, Argentina
haiku writer’s block . . .
I start playing Vivaldi’s
The Four SeasonsMarianne Sahlin
Sweden
50th birthday
my kids’ duet of
Ol’ Man RiverBruce Feingold
Berkeley, CA USA
open window
the sound of violin
accompanies the birdsongSlobodan Pupovac
Zagreb, Croatia
serendipity
encountering Chopin
at the train stationBona M. Santos
Los Angeles, CA
swaying to a riff
from the kitchen window
trumpet flowerMargaret Tau
New Bern, North Carolina
composing lyrics
the ins and outs
of birdsongmenggubah lirik
keluar masuknya
kicau burungChristopher Calvin
Kota Mojokerto, Indonesia
my belly at 40—
the boom
of a dreadnought guitarChad Lee Robinson
United States
blackbird song—
notes forgotten
at the flute lessonDaniela Lăcrămioara Capotă
Romania
spring rain
we dance in the forest
singing the BeatlesLev Hart
Calgary, Canada
music radio
aspects of love
in every songCarol Reynolds
Australia
fragrant breeze . . .
my inner child echoes
a cuckoo’s songNeena Singh
Chandigarh, India
wind in the beech trees
the harmonica
I once tried to playC.X. Turner
United Kingdom
washing up—
Leonard Cohen
hits the right noteMadhuri Pillai
Australia
spare buttons
in the old biscuit tin—
tambourine manBaisali Chatterjee Dutt
Kolkata, India
stuck in traffic
he plays my favorite song
on repeat modePriti Khullar
Noida, India
empty dome
a flute concert
fills the silence(in the Baptistery of Pisa every day at noon)
Angiola Inglese
Italia
winter chill
the bare neck
of the acousticJames Gaskin
Fukushima, Japan
in the air
the sound of a tenor sax—
sprouting rootsNazarena Rampini
Italia
flauto dolce . . .
controcanto improvviso
d’un cardellinosweet flute . . .
sudden counterpoint
of a goldfinchGiuliana Ravaglia
Bologna, Italia
border conflict—
the sound of a piano
floods the houseconflicto fronterizo—
el sonido de un piano
inunda la casaJorge Alberto Giallorenzi
Chivilcoy, Buenos Aires, Argentina
sea shanties—
on a wave
back to childhoodDorothy Burrows
United Kingdom
Clair de Lune—
my mother’s ghost
wrapped in the sheet musicAdele Evershed
Wilton, Connecticut
insomniac song joining the nightjars
Susan Burch
Hagerstown, MD
open windows . . .
a lonely sax
greets the sunLucia Cardillo
Italia
wind bells
still the sound
of lonelinessMona Bedi
Delhi, India
fluttering seagulls
as the steamer starts . . .
morning ragaDevoshruti Mandal
India
pump organ
little girl’s workout
at Great Gram’sPamela Jeanne
Whitehorse, Canada
linden blossoms
carried by the wind . . .
marching bandfiori di tiglio
portati dal vento . . .
banda di paeseDaniela Misso
Italia
music show
the bluesman’s dreads
a flying mopJohn Zheng
Mississippi, United States
jingling bells
teenage carolers
at the doorValentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio USA
old shakuhachi
finding the beauty
in one octave of playRichard Matta
San Diego, California
little brown jug
out of tune
out of his breathron scully
Burien WA
middle school chorus
my instructor tells me
to just mouth the wordsMargie Gustafson
Lombard, IL USA
spring breeze—
making music
out of my poemsCristina Povero
Italy
spontaneous dance
to dad’s classical music
my little bare feetClaire Vogel Camargo
USA
wedding canopy
how I sing Oy Mama
I’m So In LoveKath Abela Wilson
United States
call and response
tufted titmouse
and IPeggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama
favourite song
my dog joins me
in a duetSushama Kapur
Pune, India
my mate’s ukulele
somewhere over
the rainbowP. H. Fischer
Vancouver, Canada
worship service
harmonizing with my wife
without wordsGeoff Pope
United States
in-utero
our baby always kicks
to dvorak’s new world symphonyNancy Brady
Huron, Ohio, USA
five easy pieces—
the grownups keep
on talkingRoberta Beary
County Mayo, Ireland
family karaoke
we join our own Queen Elsa
and Let It GoSharon Martina
United States
relampago
esperando el sonido
adentro de la congalightning
waiting for the sound
within the congaJonathan Roman
New York, United States
we converse
on fragments of songs
today it’s The StonesGreer Woodward
Waimea
home
anywhere and anytime
our music playsDidimay D. Dimacali
USA
sunroof open
we sing grandma’s lullabies
for UkraineSusan Rogers
Los Angeles
Guest editor Marietta McGregor is a fourth-generation Tasmanian who has made her home between Australia’s national capital Canberra and the scenic south coast of New South Wales for over four decades. A lover of the natural world since childhood, she went on to study botany and zoology, and has worked as palynologist, garden designer, science journalist, editor, university tutor, education manager, and grants developer for the national wildlife collection. A photography and travel enthusiast since retiring, she enjoys capturing fine detail of fleeting moments. She came late to haiku, which appealed for its close observation and poetic expression of ephemeral experience. Her haiku, haibun and haiga have been widely published, have won awards and appear in anthologies.
Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.
Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.
The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.
Please note that all poems & images appearing in Haiku Dialogue may not be used elsewhere without express permission – copyright is retained by the creators. Please see our Copyright Policies.
This Post Has 14 Comments
Comments are closed.
Howdy just ᴡanteⅾ to give you a quick heads up. Τhe text in your
post seem to be running off the screen in Chrome. I’m not surе if this is a formatting issue oг
something to do with weƅ browѕer compatibility ƅut I figured I’d pоst to
let you know. The style and design look great though! Hope you
gеt the issue resolved soon. Chеers
Thank you, Marietta, for including my “worship service” — especially wonderful to show my wife.
Many thanks, Marietta, for including my poem and thank you to Kj and Lori for all your work. Congratulations to all the poets. As usual, I’ve enjoyed reading Marietta’s commentary and everyone’s poems and learnt a great deal by doing so. Owing to other writing projects, I am stepping away from this weekly challenge for a while but I look forward to returning later in the year. Best wishes to everyone who contributes to this wonderful column!
Thanks dear Marietta, kj & Lori for this weekly feature. It is delightful to read all the poems and the commentary which is a learning experience.
Honoured to have my haiku featured along with such musical poems.
This week Bryan’s haiku was truly superb!
Congratulations to all featured poets.
Thank you, Marietta, for including my haiku in this beautiful collection.
Splendid! Thank you, Marietta and team. This week I particularly enjoyed the senryu with off-key notes: the music of the beans, Jenny banished to the garage with her violin, the dog howling along with Sushama singing…. Leonard Cohen’s dolorous tones as Madhuri is chained to the washing-up… the teen group that manages to empty the club… Ah, the human condition.
Honored and delighted to have my haiku selected for commentary, many thanks to you, Marietta. Thanks to kj and Lori. Congratulations to all poets.
Hi Marietta, so surprised and pleased to have my lines selected for commentary especially as there were so many brilliant offerings to choose from. Loved your comparison with the Empire State Building. Many thanks.
Another week of entertainment. Congratulations to all.
Thank you Marietta for choosing one of mine.
Thanks KJ and Lori.
I thought this one had an invisible reset button;
silent symphony
a field of wildflowers
sways with the breeze
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
United States
Such a vivid and memorable collection of poems this week too. I also love seeing the script of other languages, and their beauty. I will read them all more thoroughly. Congratulations to all poets.Thank you so much, Marietta. Thanks to kj and Lori as well.
It is always a pleasure to see one of my haiku being published. Thank-you Marietta, Kathy, Lori, and everyone at the Haiku Foundation for this weekly column. Congats to all the poets.
Happy to be included again this week. Many thanks to Marietta!
Thanks Marietta for sharing my verses.
Such a lyrical collection this week, congratulations to you all. Loved the humor of the family band of bean-eaters and the banishment of the new violinist. Will read through the rest more thoroughly as the week goes by. A shout out and congratulations to my fellow Ohioans, Matt Cariello, Tiffany Diaz, and Valentina Ransldi-Adams. Thanks Marietta, Lori, and KJ for keeping this column going each week and me writing. Now, let’s all go fly a kite.