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HAIKU DIALOGUE – Haiku Prism – Purple

Haiku Prism – A World in Color

During this dark time we could all use something to brighten up our weeks. I believe that each one of us carries an inner light that can be a source of solace for others. So let’s take that light and channel it through the magic and wonder of haiku to express our world in all its glorious colors. Let’s let haiku be our prism.

Each week I will be providing a new color for you to meditate on and write about. You do not need to name it in your haiku, simply let it be an aspect. You can take this in any direction you like from various flora & fauna, fruits & vegetables, clothing items, celestial bodies, household objects, etc…to various associated moods. Even think in related colors such as pink for red or gold for yellow. I am also happy to accept sub-genres including scifaiku and mythku.

next week’s theme: Brown

Please send up to two unpublished haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box. The deadline is midnight Eastern Standard Time, Saturday, May 9, 2020.

Selected haiku will be listed in the order they are received with a few chosen 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 can be added as blog comments.

Below is my commentary for Purple:

This week I discovered flowers I had never heard of and expressions I was unaware of. My heart was pulled in many directions and I marveled at the skill and depth of this community. Thank you for trusting me with your words and your creations. It has been another wonderful week as your guest editor.

As I sit here after a day spent outdoors with my children, enjoying this beautiful spring weather, I am drawn to several haiku that traverse the course of how I’ve experienced this season.

spring laughter
the purple in the crocus
in me

Stephen A. Peters

Winter, though beautiful in its own right, it is a challenging season for me. I struggle with the bleakness and the cold. My mind tends to drift inward to places I’d rather not go, and I find myself retreating from the company of others. The knowledge that spring will come is often what keeps me going. Slowly, as the snow and ice melt, my joy returns, laughter returns. After winter’s whites and grays, spring colors can seem that much more intense. I, too, feel the purple of the crocus, so rich and vibrant, pour out of me as I reawaken and reconnect to the world around me.

the jacaranda
bereft of purple…
quarantine ends

arvinder kaur, Chandigarh, India

Then, there is this spring. This pandemic spring that has upended all we’ve known. What is normally a time of joy and beauty, has become, for some more than others, a time of sorrow and fear. For me, I’ve lost the spring I had hoped for. Even when the quarantine ends, I will still have lost this season of my life. We will have all lost time with family and friends. This is not the spring any of us could have imagined it would be.

And yet…

in the middle
of all this
lilacs

Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO

I may slip into thoughts of despondency then… lilacs. The world persists in its beauty. Spring has not stopped. Spring has not failed to come. I may have to interact with it differently, with a few less picnics, and a few less walks along the lake, but I still can hear the birds, feel the grass beneath my feet, and lay in the sun, albeit six feet away from everyone else, but it is all still here. It’s not what I had hoped for, I am not going to walk away unchanged, but I can look for what’s lovely and surprising. There are still lilacs to enjoy.

I know that each of you has brightened my days with your haiku. Thank you, all of you, for your submissions, for your poetry, and your light. I hope you enjoy the words of your fellow poets as much as I have this week, and I look forward to reading next week’s submissions. Happy reading!

crumbling adobe
full of light
and purple sage

Steve Tabb

 

autistic
a purple sun rises
on my son’s window

Vandana Parashar

 

I keep looking
the lost violets
in flowery meadows

Vincenzo Adamo

 

jacaranda sky
with each blink of my eye
another star

Wendy Toth-Notarnicola

 

wild asters
the shades beyond purple
only a bee sees

Kristen Lindquist

 

eggplant
he slips it into
my DMs

Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC

 

her DNA –
more orchid than
dandelion

Dan Campbell

 

homegrown
rediscovering the taste
of vegetables

Kanjini Devi

 

morning prayer
the scent of lavender fills
mother’s bedroom

Agus Maulana Sunjaya, Tangerang, Indonesia

 

childhood memories
the enduring aroma
of lavender

Carol Reynolds

 

cold rain–
a lilac
more purple

Teiichi Suzuki , Japan

 

your violets …
I will pass
an empty night

Le tue violette…
passerò
una notte vuota

Kyoko Bengala

 

pandemic pollution
a proliferation
of purple gloves

Ingrid Baluchi, Skopje, Macedonia

 

purple clouds turning blue her hidden bruises

Pamela A. Babusci

 

lockdown –
I draw by memory
wild lilacs

Radka Mindova

 

deep dusk
the positions
of my chair

Güliz Mutlu

 

a case of misgendering Gladiator Alliums

Robin Anna Smith

 

on the last edge of day
after the gold
purple

Peggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama, USA

 

leaving him
the slow rise
of a deep bruise

Bryan Rickert

 

his old stories
recalling her love
of purple sage

Rehn Kovacic

 

this darkening shade i wear winter gloaming

Jonathan Roman

 

light rain
lavender blossoming
in a sketchbook

Isabel Caves, New Zealand

 

purple queen
hanging on every word
at the garden show

Michael Henry Lee

 

pale amethyst
told next to nothing
about the wedding night

Laurie Greer

 

violets…
the mask’s marks
on her face

Elisabetta Castagnoli

 

doctor’s office
an amethyst crystal
close to my heart

Pat Davis

 

wine tasting
slowly we swallow
our bitterness

Rashmi VeSa

 

fragrant lilacs
a long wait
til next spring

Leslie Robert

 

upcountry summer
a whiff of lavender
takes me back to her

Bona M. Santos, Los Angeles, CA

 

deepening dusk
through the haze
mountains yet to climb

Margaret Walker

 

wine review
the purple prose
of pinot noir

Clifford Rames, Freehold, NJ

 

father’s gift
to mother…
my amethyst earrings

Madhuri Pillai

 

summer twilight…
the fading whistle
of a shoe polisher

Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan

 

feigning nonchalance
the doctor asks her
did you fall

Christopher Seep

 

color palette
a boy picks the purple
eye shadow

Anthony Rabang

 

endless war
the seventh inning stretch
for a purple heart

Randy Brooks

 

purple phase
he learns to spell
am-e-thyst

Peter Jastermsky

 

sunset –
all those purple streaks
around her wrist

Dorothy Burrows

 

purple lilac
scenting the story behind
her bruised arm

cezar-florin ciobîcă

 

her dress
waving in the wind
the soft smell of purple

Mona Iordan

 

midnight dream . . .
the purple calico
in grandma’s quilt

Theresa A. Cancro, Wilmington, DE

 

garden walks
replaced by videocam
hanging wisteria

Deborah P Kolodji, Temple City, California

 

a lesson
about the heart of God
purple irises

Devin Harrison

 

finally home
lifting the weight
of his purple heart

Rich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO

 

stems of fireweed
my young neighbour
taller now

Astrid Egger

 

pulling weeds
she sees a constellation
of violets

Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio

Guest Editor Tia Haynes resides in Lakewood, Ohio, near her beloved Lake Erie. She was featured in New Resonance 11: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku and has appeared in journals and anthologies worldwide. Much of her inspiration comes from the landscape and people of the American Midwest as well as life with her two small children. Her chapbook, leftover ribbon, (Velvet Dusk Publishing) is available on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter: @adalia_haiku

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).

This Post Has 20 Comments

  1. Many thanks to Tia for including my haiku and also to Alan for his thoughts on it. I am thrilled to have my work included in such an inspiring and wide-ranging selection. I have enjoyed reading all of the poems and many of the images created will linger in my mind. Two haiku that I immediately loved were Nancy’s

    pulling weeds
    she sees a constellation
    of violets

    This creates a beautiful image and really captures the gardener’s joy when discovering flowers hidden within a clump of weeds. What a great collective noun for violets!

    I was also really drawn to Hifsa’s

    summer twilight…
    the fading whistle
    of a shoe polisher
    .
    This is so cinematic, providing location, sound and character. There’s an entire story captured in these 3 lines. Wonderful!

    Thanks to all the poets for sharing your work and thoughts and many thanks to Tia, Lori and Katherine for presenting such a thoughtful and inspiring haiku dialogue.

    1. Thanks Dorothy for your observations on my haiku. I am glad you saw something in my words. Pulling weeds is one thing, but I don’t mind the violets in the yard.

  2. The haiku I have just posted in commentary doesn´t go there. I made a mistake. They belong to
    this week new colour in HAIKU DIALOGUE.PRISM.BROWN.
    Sorry!.

    1. no worries – glad to see that you re-posted on the Contact Form! (that is the solution!)
      cheers, kj

  3. Golden weddings anniversary-
    grandfather brushes
    his brown hat

    Absence-
    brown pears
    on the kitchen table

  4. This is another excellent selection of haiku, Tia. Thank you for including me with so many wonderful poets. Here are just a few of the ones that stood out for me:
    .
    in the middle
    of all this
    lilacs
    ——Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO
    .
    Indeed there are lilacs in the middle of this springtime lockdown. They give me hope and take me back to the sweet lilacs of my childhood.
    .

    crumbling adobe
    full of light
    and purple sage
    ——Steve Tabb
    .
    What a beautiful image from our southwest, or perhaps from any semi-arid region of the world where sunlight seems to fill all the corners.
    .

    garden walks
    replaced by videocam
    hanging wisteria
    —-Deborah P Kolodji, Temple City
    .
    This is the reality of these days. It will pass and we will get back to the real wisteria.
    .
    It was sad to see so many haiku reflecting domestic abuse however, poetry deals with life, and that is the secret life for too many. Here is the poem on that topic that affected me deeply because it can be read as two possible reactions to the issue. It expresses either a sense of empathy for the sufferer or a systemic desire to ignore the problem of violence in the home. I wish I knew what Peter had in mind, but that might take away some of its draw.
    .
    feigning nonchalance
    the doctor asks her
    did you fall
    —-Christopher Seep
    .
    These are only a few of this selection of purple poetry that caught my eye.

  5. I agree with previous comments about this wonderful bouquet of purples.
    Especially drawn to:
    *
    crumbling adobe
    full of light
    and purple sage

    Steve Tabb

    *
    Hard not to think of all the knowledge this “sage” has. Love the juxtaposition of something fading and something else replenishing the space.
    autistic
    *
    a purple sun rises
    on my son’s window

    Vandana Parashar

    *
    a beautiful verse about seeing things differently.
    *
    wild asters
    the shades beyond purple
    only a bee sees

    Kristen Lindquist
    *
    and this one, also about perceptions we don’t all share
    *
    upcountry summer
    a whiff of lavender
    takes me back to her

    Bona M. Santos, Los Angeles, CA
    *
    love that “upcountry” ! That alone just makes this verse sing
    *
    wine review
    the purple prose
    of pinot noir

    Clifford Rames, Freehold, NJ
    *
    clever and visual and intoxicating!
    *

    *
    pulling weeds
    she sees a constellation
    of violets

    Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
    *
    love the connection of the small and humble to the ancient and overwhelming
    *
    Thanks Tia and all contributors. Pleased to be part of the amethyst contingent–a beautiful stone. It was my grandmother’s birthstone as well as the stone in her engagement ring. Backstory to the haiku: one summer when I was about 12, I overheard my two grandmothers discussing how little they knew about the physical aspects of marriage. Both were married in the 1920s. That conversation stuck with me.
    Stay well everyone

    1. oops–
      sorry to cut up this poem
      *
      autistic
      a purple sun rises
      on my son’s window

      Vandana Parashar

      *
      a beautiful verse about seeing things differently.

    2. Thank you, Laurie Greer. What a kind compliment on my haiku.

      I loved your haiku and also the backstory on your haiku. I remember my mom telling me that my grandma once asked questions of her and my aunt about some sexual matters. Although I was an adult (and married), the conversation was still a surprise to me as was the conversation that grandma had with my aunt and mom. Yes, obviously, my grandparents and parents had sex, but still…
      I wear an amethyst engagement ring (and other amethyst jewelry), and it is always presumed that I was born in February.But no, it is because purple is my favorite color.

  6. Another excellent column, Tia. Purple is and always has been my favorite color. Whether it is the purple of crocuses, irises, or the sky at sunset, these haiku show purple in its many iterations and shades of lilac, lavender, and more. Bruises may be the exception especially if caused by abusive behavior as seen throughout many of these haiku. While some bruises can be a badge of honor, the ones here are not. Thanks for including one of mine in this collection, too.

  7. To list my favorites would be to list them all!!! 🙂
    .
    .
    jacaranda sky
    with each blink of my eye
    another star
    .
    Wendy Toth-Notarnicola
    .
    .
    Looking up the tree I realise it’s not just an Australian tree! 🙂 I lived in Queensland for five years, and also travelled to Western Australia and Northern Territory.
    .
    I love that action in that middle line, and the magic of the night sky retold.
    .
    .
    eggplant
    he slips it into
    my DMs
    .
    Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC
    .
    .
    I don’t know if this is one of those lockdown practical jokes, made famous in the UK by pop star Olly Murs, via TikTok. I hope it was a fun joke reciprocated by the author at another time, and both people enjoyed being caught out. I hope so, at least. Also, I’m wondering if Lori has a fab pair of Doc Martens in purple! I can imagine that too. 🙂
    .
    .

    a case of misgendering Gladiator Alliums
    .
    Robin Anna Smith
    .
    .
    A deeply intriguing ‘monoku’ by Robin. I see UK site Avon Bulbs say:
    “proved to be reliable in appropriate conditions and a good performing plant.”
    https://www.avonbulbs.co.uk/autumn-planted-bulbs/alliums/allium-gladiator
    .
    WIKIPEDIA:
    “The genus includes many economically important species. These include onions (A. cepa), French shallots (A. oschaninii), leeks (A. ampeloprasum), scallions (various Allium species), and herbs such as garlic (A. sativum) and chives (A. schoenoprasum).”
    .
    LINNAEUS’ SEXUAL SYSTEM site says:
    Classis 6. Hexandria » flowers with six stamens.
    .
    This is a fascinating haiku that melds natural history (flora) with the male dominance of a superior race (women).
    .
    .

    deepening dusk
    through the haze
    mountains yet to climb
    .
    Margaret Walker
    .
    .
    Beautiful, and so many of us remember the past privilege of walking openly in fields, hills, mountains, so many feel out of reach forever now.
    .
    .

    summer twilight…
    the fading whistle
    of a shoe polisher
    .
    Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan
    .
    .
    Twilight and the use of sound is highly evocative.
    .
    .
    garden walks
    replaced by videocam
    hanging wisteria
    .
    Deborah P Kolodji, Temple City, California
    .
    .
    The videocam and similar devices are now how we travel to seek out beauty. For those who have gardens, even tiny pocket ones, it’s wonderful to be able to enjoy. For those with no greenery nearby and out of reach, it must feel horrific not to be able to just use a park. We have a meadow but due to narrow lanes and being easily hemmed in by certain people, it’s closed off to us, despite being only two to three minutes strolling on foot distance. Ah, to be able to walk around that small to medium meadow now.
    .
    .
    I am horrified that in abusive households around the world, it is the people who sustain and attempt to survive violent abuse that are literally kicked out of their homes, rather than the abuser.
    .
    Both wives, girlfriends, partners, husbands, boyfriends, and children are now in lockdown with mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive time bombs. I wish the abusers could be placed in a secure facility and let the innocents survive the pandemic without that daily and nightly threat.
    .
    There were many fine haiku dealing with bruises. Here’s one that suggests the same:
    .
    .
    sunset –
    all those purple streaks
    around her wrist
    .
    Dorothy Burrows
    .
    .
    Incredibly powerful. I keep wanting the streaks to be just the actual effect of a beautiful sunset lending its color palette!
    .
    All very fine work, everyone, another powerhouse color themed collection.
    .
    Alan

    1. Thank you, Alan.

      Praise from you means a LOT, indeed!

      Purple is my favorite color, and jacaranda is stunning. Equally stunning are all of the haiku above. It’s so hard to pick a favorite, but one resonates with me as hopeful and optimistic. Some days, lately, I feel like I am a “glass-is-half-full-and-it’s-probably-poison-anyway” type of person, so when something makes me feel optimistic in all of this, that’s an achievement!

      in the middle
      of all this
      lilacs

      Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO

      Wonderful.

      A great job by all!

    2. Thank you for commenting on my “deepening dusk”. As always, I very much appreciate your comments!
      The backstory is the view from my grandparents’ front porch. As a child and teen I spent hours in the old porch swing wondering what was beyond each mountain peak and valley. I think I have spent my life wanton to discover what is beyond each mountain or curve in the road.

  8. Lovely haiku on the theme of purple! 🙂
    .
    I’ve discovered I’ve used purple directly and indirectly a few times.
    .
    Here’s one in honor of Jane Reichhold:
    .
    .
    purple loosestrife
    the drift of candle wax
    on a breeze
    .
    Alan Summers
    .
    i.m. Jane Reichhold 1937-2016
    cattails UHTS journal (September 2016)
    Jane Reichold Tribute Page 177
    https://www.thehaikufoundation.org/omeka/files/original/d430be1fb3a5d058aeda28eadbdcbdbd.pdf
    .
    .
    Note:
    .
    Jane’s daughter Bambi told me she that Jane used to grow purple loosestrife on her flower farm.
    .

  9. Thank you for including my poem, we’ve been especially savoring the sweetness of purple carrots, purple asparagus, and red basil from the garden.

    I’m grateful of everyone’s contribution. It’s wonderful to wake up to, and enjoy with my morning coffee. Uplifting and thought provoking.

    Vandana’s rising sun, and Kristen’s bee’s perspective made me pause and appreciate, Dan’s DNA verse is simply delightful. I thought Clifford’s take on wine review rather clever and Ingrid’s awareness of ‘pandemic’ pollution very poignant.

    Last but not least, the image of Peggy’s purple and gold lingers in my mind 🙂

  10. Tia, Lori, and kj – Thanks so much for this column and for including my “purple poem” in the mix. I loved Stephen A. Peters’ ku – “spring laughter” – the commentary with it and the style of it – “in the crocus in me” Wow! I also loved Teiichi Suzuki’s poem about “cold rain” and how the rain intensifies color, even magnifying it at times. I noted the number of poems that referenced “bruising”, a sad reality that lockdowns and quarantines bring out the worst in those who are abusers. I was happy to see that others chose to write about amethyst. I tried to write one about my amethyst geode, but couldn’t, so I wrote about my amethyst crystal instead. Peter Jastermsky’s “purple phase” poem reminded me of a grandson who went through a purple phase – thanks for the memory!

  11. It would be nice to think that, due to our circumstances in this isolation, we have become much more aware of nature and
    the beauty around us we now have the time to enjoy, even just looking out of a window. From my ‘bunker’, I revel in our skies here in Macedonia, nearly every morning, and particularly at sunset… Peggy’s first line a lovely way to introduce those regal colours, gold and purple:
    .
    on the last edge of day
    after the gold
    purple
    .
    Peggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama, USA
    .
    I keep looking
    the lost violets
    in flowery meadows
    .
    Vincenzo Adamo
    .
    Yes! Where have all the wild violets gone? And if you find them, there’s seldom any of that scent I remember crawling after around the secret damp patches in my grandmother’s garden.
    .
    Tia, thanks for including my poem among these mostly upbeat offerings, and thank you all the team for the work involved, and poets for these colourful weekly reads.

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