HAIKU DIALOGUE – Rooms – Looking In (1)
Rooms with Guest Editor Marietta McGregor
The month of July is about a room of one’s own, or someone else’s. Many of us spend more time within four walls than we do outside. We are born, die, sleep, eat, write, paint, sew, sing, converse, discourse, learn, worship and interact in enclosed spaces. Often we seek out or create these spaces because they provide creature comforts. Animals have rooms of their own. A bear seeks its den to hibernate. Wombats and rabbits dig to create burrows. Birds build nests. Virginia Woolf extolled the advantages of a private income and one’s own space. Rooms can be working sanctuaries, but if our enclosures become overly constricting or confining, we may feel the walls are ‛closing in’ on us, as many felt during pandemic lockdowns.
Below is Marietta’s selection of poems on the theme of Looking In:
Snowy pavements—
shop window mannequins
in bikinisCaroline Ridley-Duff
UK
the hunched back
of a piano player
window sonatamarilyn ashbaugh
edwardsburg, michigan usa
old classroom
the benches still bear
our namesSrini S
Rishi Valley, India
forget me nots
in the room my mothers voice
no longer thereStephen A. Peters
Bellingham, WA
the kayak
attached to the ceiling
a reminder of her son’s exploitsAnn Rawson
UK
watercolours on the table—
preparing the story
that I’m going to tell todayDaniela Lăcrămioara Capotă
Romania
clam bake
raconteurs settle into
their Bigfoot theoriesSheila Barksdale
Gotherington, England, U.K.
Hamm’s beer sign
looking into the bar’s version
of a stained glass windowRehn Kovacic
Mesa, AZ
the chatter of teens
from behind closed doors
. . . at least they’re homeBaisali Chatterjee Dutt
Kolkata, India
tiny windows—
I still peep inside ’em
toy carsAshok Weerakkody
Sri Lanka
wedding hall
my first glance—a bat
on the chandelierSharon Ferrante
Florida, USA
doors of perception
staring into galaxies
inside a mushroomJohn Hawkhead
UK
doctor’s clinic—
next to the colored posters
child’s artTuyet Van Do
Australia
grandma’s kitchen
bits of grandpa’s pipe tobacco
on the oilclothCindy Putnam Guentherman
Illinois, USA
abandoned house—
the wallpaper someone
loved onceLafcadio
USA
looking into my bedroom . . .
on the dresser
my parents’ photoRosa Maria Di Salvatore
Catania Italy
pinholes of light
defeating the darkness—
old barnDan Campbell
Virginia
hospital ward
four old men
flushing all nightCharles Harper
Yokohama
receding up the wall
three duckswanda amos
Old Bar, Australia
happy family
glimpsed through the winter window
I hug my young selfJenny Shepherd
London, UK
Nan fades
into white bed sheets
palliative care wardLouise Hopewell
Australia
fragrance
in the disheveled bed
a twinkling toe-ringKavita Ratna
India
meditation hall . . .
I learn to watch the “me”
slowly disappearHlaYin Mon
Yangon, Myanmar
the bed he was born in
I begin a sonnet
to Shakespeare’s birthplaceTracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK
meditation room . . .
the singing bowl
waits to singKathleen Trocmet
USA
shelves of
summer fantasies
the root cellarSusan Farner
USA
Father’s room emptied
the walls where the couches sat
not yellowed from smokeJames Feeney
Scotland
bluish moonlight
shines into the cockpit
sleeping pilotsTeiichi Suzuki
Japan
house warming. . .
dinner served
on the tree stump tableAparna Pathak
Gurugram, India
a teenager’s room inside a room
Vandana Parashar
India
vacant granny’s room—
floating inside
the fairies from her storiesRam Chandran
India
getting dizzy
faded on the vault
frescoesHelga Stania
Switzerland
old age home—
she sits facing
the bare wallNeena Singh
India
in one room
a roaring fire 選択 a piano
in the othersimonj
UK
museum . . .
between skeletons
an eraSudebi Singha
Kolkata, India
after the footage
from the front line
an ad for sofasKeith Evetts
Thames Ditton UK
through stained glass
more and more shadow play—
summer wakeAlfred Booth
Lyon, France
thunderstorm—
the wobbly steps
to my bedroomMona Bedi
Delhi, India
summer storm
going deep into my shell
in room #13Bona M. Santos
Los Angeles, CA
bird house . . .
how the eyes of the barred owls
follow meLaurie Greer
Washington, DC
family death
in his bedroom
the TV still onMark Meyer
Mercer Island WA USA
window suncatcher—
the rainbow painted on
my bedroom floorLorraine Schein
Queens, NYC
silence
of an empty classroom . . .
end of JuneAngiola Inglese
Italia
all smiles
in the hospital room
yellow daisiesLorelyn De la Cruz Arevalo
Bombon, Philippines
winter sun
on the dining room table
an unfinished jigsawSue Courtney
Orewa, New Zealand
reception hall
the first room we enter
as husband and wifeBryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois
light from monitor
a couple on a Zoom call
meditatingVivien Eliades
Brighton, UK
time capsule
nana’s living room
just as she left itCynthia Anderson
Yucca Valley, California
autumn evening
a hint of aniseed
in the entrance hallDaniela Misso
Italy
the bed
facing a mirrored wardrobe—
Paris hotelRuth Holzer
Herndon, Virginia
friend’s cottage . . .
the scent of jasmine
in the first kissSamo Kreutz
Ljubljana, Slovenia
travel blog . . .
I look in and out
someone else’s eyesJan Stretch
Victoria, BC, Canada
three hens perched
in the makeshift pen
moonless nightKanjini Devi
The Far North, Aotearoa NZ
summer cottage
the scratched hallway
where the years have passedMarianne Sahlin
Sweden
counselling sessions
the inward search
for answersCarol Reynolds
Australia
one last look
before closing the door
her empty placepetro c. k.
Seattle, Washington
Camels and a hotplate
in the rented room
immigrant auntieAnn Sullivan
Massachusetts USA
a peak
into her dollhouse
teatimeRon Scully
Burien WA
tilting shanty
an empty corner
shines in sunlightJohn Zheng
Mississippi
lightning—
the flash of cat
stepping inSatyanarayana Chittaluri
Hyderabad, India
mixed in
piles of clean laundry
southern windMariel Herbert
California, USA
morning rush
a strand of hair lingers
on the dressing tableMinal Sarosh
Ahmedabad, India
summer grove
in the zoom room
her dream homeAnn Smith
United Kingdom
skylight window
shifting the axis
of my thoughtsHifsa Ashraf
Rawalpindi, Pakistan
hard lines
and gleaming surfaces—
the urge to singIngrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
polytunnel
a butterfly’s search for the sky insideTony Williams
Scotland, UK
new art gallery
on the counter a book
on fake paintingsA.J. Anwar
Jakarta, Indonesia
a baby monitor
next to my friend’s bed
hospice visitC.X. Turner
UK
entering the tavern—
I wait for my eyes to adjust
to the darknessTomislav Maretić
Zagreb, Croatia
room C4-16
Mother doesn’t remember
any other homeMaxianne Berger
Outremont, Quebec
peeking past the cart
view from that hotel room
not as nice as oursSari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY
polaroid
our years together
smiling backJenn Ryan-Jauregui
Tucson, Arizona USA
tea cup collection
covered in flowers
and dust…Adele Evershed
Wilton, Connecticut
her secret space
open to the sky
Georgia O’KeefeKathabela Wilson
USA
a door
open into childhood
my old diaryPeggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama
dementia
his frail eyes count
the falling leavesLakshmi Iyer
Kerala
vecchia soffitta…
sulla mia tela i colori del vento
pieni di luceold attic . . .
on my canvas the colors of the wind
full of lightGiuliana Ravaglia
Bologna Italy
dust-filled attic
the fairy stories
inherited from mumLori Kiefer
London UK
dark attic . . .
I trip over my past
in dusty boxesAnnie Wilson
Shropshire, UK
these walls
the secrets
they keepDidimay D. Dimacali
California, USA
the empty room
a list of their white goods
on white paperDipankar Dasgupta
Kolkata, India
garden door
the blackbird eyeing me
from her kitchenElla Aboutboul
West Sussex, UK
grandma
in the doorframe
her fledglings nestAlan Harvey
Tacoma, WA
library table
a display of banned books
ready for takeoutSigrid Saradunn
Bar Harbor, Maine
through the raindrops
on window glass—
an eagle plays the windD’ellen Hutchens
Apple Valley, CA
light at the end of the hallway hospice wing
Lorraine A Padden
San Diego, CA USA
even in the smile
of the childhood doll
an inevitable goodbyeanche nel sorriso
della bambola d’infanzia
un inevitabile addioMaria Cezza
Italy
hometown visit
the familiar flicker
of the kitchen lightMarion Clarke
Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland
theatre lights
counting down from ten
fade to blackStephen J. DeGuire
Los Angeles, CA
granny’s bedroom
her curled shadow resting
in the summer heatCristina Povero
Italy
her green bedroom
she writes poetry
in her forestDiane Funston
Marysville, California
coming home
greeted by the old
familiar dish patternDebbie Scheving
Bremerton, WA USA
their tv’s blue glow
lights empty bookshelves
I guess they e-readElizabeth Shack
Illinois, USA
doctor’s office
my heart races to the sight
of the stethoscopeJackie Chou
United States
wishing well
pennies becoming
turquoise with ageMargie Gustafson
Lombard, IL USA
“dancing in the kitchen”
our daily ritual
makes the headlinesRita Melissano
Illinois, USA
brother’s guest room . . .
asleep on my parents’ bed
maze filled dreamskris moon kondo
Kiyokawa, Kanagawa, Japan
bookshop window
a forgotten collection
from childhoodRichard Straw
Cary, North Carolina
Join us next week for Marietta’s commentary on additional poems, & our next prompt…
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 15 Comments
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Great reads, congratulations to all
Thank you Marietta
This week was a delight and hard to pin down favorites but a few of the stand outs for me were:
“the bed”
Ruth Holzer
“reception hall”
Bryan Rickert
“silence”
Angiola Inglese
“house warming”
Aparma Pathak
“Nan fades”
Louise Hopewell
“pinholes of light”
Dan Campbell
“Hamm’s beer sign”
Rehn Kovacic
And, like other commenters,
“Snowy pavement”
Caroline Ridley-Duffs
Thank you Marietta for the time and attention you devoted to our poems this week, one of my favorites is:
one last look
before closing the door
her empty place
petro c. k.
Seattle, Washington
Thanks, Marietta. There are several with calculated emotional trigger words or situations, which readers always like, yet the following caught my own attention (if I may):
Snowy pavements—
shop window mannequins
in bikinis
Caroline Ridley-Duff
This would make a good solstice poem; in the depths of midwinter we hope for summer; the temperatures that bind this verse together separated by the glass. Clean, clear, plain, and to the brief.
….
I paused to look up the choice separator 選択 in simonj’s verse.
….
winter sun
on the dining room table
an unfinished jigsaw
Sue Courtney
An accomplished harmonious juxtaposition around a pivot; the start or end of a little story for us to complete.
—-
the bed
facing a mirrored wardrobe—
Paris hotel
Ruth Holzer
Plain, unemotional, detached, instantly recognisable images and context but oh, what a little story this arrangement might tell! Has to be the Left Bank. For 21-year-old me, six weeks’ research at the Collège de France where my endearing laboratory colleagues nicknamed me Harpo (mass of curly hair and too shy/dumb to speak French). Or more universally, the truth about what we are up to on a naughty weekend, right back at us. Or the sad fact of our wrinkles in the city of love. I am a Holzer fan.
—
lightning—
the flash of cat
stepping in
Satyanarayana Chittaluri
The moment…enlightenment… and a 🐈⬛ . What more could we want? Ancient Egypt to the present day.
—
polytunnel
a butterfly’s search for the sky inside
Tony Williams
Excellent. Tony growing veg in Scotland. One is anxious for the butterfly (my money’s on a cabbage white) unable to understand the barrier, and fears for his brassicas too.
—
After all these, I am agog to see the particular selections next week!
love all of the haiku – especially the one with forgetmenots… the juxtaposition
12sqm – my caravan home
carries a world of memories
owl in the woods
Thank you, Marietta, for this selection, and for choosing one of mine.
In a wonderful collection of places to look in, I found extra comfort in my favorite location:
theatre lights
counting down from ten
fade to black
Stephen J. DeGuire
Los Angeles, CA
Thanks, Stephen, for capturing it so well!
Thank you Marietta for including my haiku on “looking in” this week. And thank you Kathy and Lori for keeping this weekly Haiku Dialogue going. These two haiku stood out for me. This one because looking in a bookstore window is often like a nostalgic trip back especially seeing some of your childhood favorites. It is like a catch in your throat from recognition:
bookshop window
a forgotten collection
from childhood
Richard Straw
Cary, North Carolina
And this one is precious. Maybe because my haiku was also about peering into a hotel room. Paris is supposed to be a romantic city and to me this haiku has a whole story behind it:
the bed
facing a mirrored wardrobe—
Paris hotel
Ruth Holzer
Herndon, Virginia
Thanks, Sari! I like your hotel poem and Ruth’s hotel poem, too. There’s something about traveling that’s conducive to writing haiku and senryu. My bookshop poem, for example, was experienced on a recent trip to elsewhere.
Thank you very much for your comment, Sari.
Thank you, Marietta and Dipankar, for liking mine!
I especially liked:
light at the end of the hallway hospice wing
Lorraine A Padden
San Diego, CA USA
wishing well
pennies becoming
turquoise with age
Margie Gustafson
Lombard, IL USA
Thanks for including me this week Marietta. These two particularly caught my eye:
polytunnel
a butterfly’s search for the sky inside
Tony Williams
library table
a display of banned books
ready for takeout
Sigrid Saradunn
Difficult to believe the second one even needs to be written in a modern democracy.
Good to read ‘Looking In’, covering a variety of places this week, from wishing wells and hospital rooms to attics bringing past experiences to the fore.
I was drawn to Keith Evetts’ TV moment, the contrast of home comforts alongside the horrors of war . . . how often advertisements barge their way into our consciousness when least appropriate, all the more unacceptable because of bad placement and timing.
after the footage
from the front line
an ad for sofas
Keith Evetts
Thames Ditton, UK
Thank you, Marietta, for this global selection, and for choosing one of mine.
Thank you, Ingrid. On another occasion, fairly early in the Russian invasion, Reuters online carried an ad for caviar (of all things!) in among reportage from the brutal crimes in Bucha.
Thank you Marietta for including mine. What a lovely collection . I loved the following in particular, which is not say that the others don’t stand out. Thanks again.
Dipankar
Snowy pavements—
shop window mannequins
in bikinis
Caroline Ridley-Duff
UK
window suncatcher—
the rainbow painted on
my bedroom floor
Lorraine Schein
Queens, NYC
abandoned house—
the wallpaper someone
loved once
Lafcadio
USA
one last look
before closing the door
her empty place
petro c. k.
Seattle, Washington
tea cup collection
covered in flowers
and dust…
Adele Evershed
Wilton, Connecticut