HAIKU DIALOGUE – The Haiku Mind – Hobbies & Introduction to Haiku Prism

Intro to 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: Yellow

Please send up to two unpublished haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box.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, April 4, 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 Hobbies:

Thank you everyone for journeying with me through The Haiku Mind for the past eight weeks. I have enjoyed walking alongside you as you threw off your inner critic and began to trust your inborn abilities. All of you created truly wonderful haiku and senryu! I hope you will be able to take what you learned about yourself and about writing and carry it with you as you continue on your haiku path. It is also my absolute delight to be continuing on as your guest editor with Haiku Prism. I can’t wait to see the colorful haiku you create!

This week brought out a marvelous variety of subject matter and style! From failed hobbies:

dropped stitch
knitting
skips a generation

Laurie Greer, Washington, DC

We don’t always succeed in the hobbies we try out. Several years ago, I attempted crocheting as my own mother was quite well versed in it. It did not turn out well for me either! Like Laurie that ability seems to have skipped a generation. But, the important part is that we tried. For better or for worse, when we approach new hobbies we can discover more of ourselves and our unique abilities. As it’s said, “You won’t know until you try it!” What hobbies have you attempted?

To finding the good in the now:

lock-down time for that patchwork quilt

Ingrid Baluchi, Macedonia

I am deeply impressed with how we are all coming together to find ways to make it through. Whether it is singing out of our windows together or utilizing social media to our advantage like never before, we are finding ways to cope. Individually, I think many of us have set personal goals for what we can achieve now that we don’t have other obligations or distractions. For Ingrid it’s working on her patchwork quilt, which I also see as representing the stitching together of humanity in this time of crisis. Such a beautiful image. What is your quarantine-time activity?

Or discovering the past:

pulling off
my garden gloves . . .
Mom’s hands

Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO

This moment is one I know well. My own mother was an excellent gardener and just last year I had my chance to truly begin my own garden. One day, I pulled off my gloves and there I saw my mother’s hands. In fact, one of the first things I noticed about my eldest daughter when she was born was that she also has my mother’s hands. Discovering these threads to the past can be inspiring or disheartening depending on your experiences. The older we get, the more our parents and grandparents reveal themselves in us, and not just physically, which can be quite jarring. I imagine this is what Ann was feeling when she pulled off her own garden gloves. What a great haiku moment! What about you, in what ways do you resemble past generations?

I’d love to read your responses in the comments section below. While you’re there you can talk about your favorite poems from this week, provide your own commentary, or even join in a discussion. All are welcome! I hope you enjoy the rest of this week’s selections, they are truly marvelous. With that, happy reading!

lockdown
another reading
of the same book

Aparna Pathak

 

writing group
I try once more to explain
the rules of renku

Marion Clarke, Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland

 

philately-
around the world
in a minute

Lakshmi Iyer

 

Grandma’s Singer –
I sew protective masks
with flowers

Zdenka Mlinar

 

half asleep . . .
scrolling through
the unknown faces

Manoj Sharma

 

social distancing
my new hobby
staying indoors

Stephen A. Peter

 

wall painting
the crow’s caw
unable to reach my ears

Muskaan Ahuja, Chandigarh, India

 

corona virus
too much free time
for hobbies

Slobodan Pupovac, Zagreb, Croatia

 

confined…
his collection of stamps
from around the world

Olivier Schopfer, Switzerland

 

me, myself and I
we head out
for a hike

nancy liddle

 

afternoon thunder
i fill in my crossword
with a pen

Kristen Lindquist

 

mountaineering . . .
between my palms
captured prayer

Ivan Gaćina, Zadar, Croatia

 

gardening
the hummingbird and I
eye to eye

Rehn Kovacic

 

first butterfly
on my fingers–
tai chi chuan

Teiichi Suzuki , Japan

 

abacus the toddler prefers to count his toes

Willie Bongcaron, Philippines

 

nursing home
finally listening
to my CDs

Aljoša Vuković, Šibenik, Croatia

 

embroidery –
so many fake butterflies
on my curtains

Maria Teresa Sisti

 

origami I fold into myself

john hawkhead

 

chess game…
one more and
one more

Tsanka Shishkova

 

geography
and history…
I travel every page

Lakshmi Iyer

 

quarantined
I pick up a silver pen
to outline the clouds

Vandana Parashar

 

crocheting
a virus blanket spreading
warmth across my lap

Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY

 

I spill tea
on my crossword
self isolation

Margaret Mahony

 

first sumie strokes-
the shy smile
of Fumiko’s Sensei

Julia Guzman

 

collector
hoarder
treading a fine line

Christopher Seep

 

puzzle pieces
my Nancy Drew mysteries
pass to a great niece

Marilyn Ashbaugh

 

rainy day-
sorting the coins
of my mother

Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

 

twilight swimming
I dive
into the moon

Nisha Raviprasad

 

boredom
my father recommends me
sudoku

Pere Risteski

 

recluse at home-
painting my paintings
I don’t think of the virus

reclusa in casa-
dipingendo i miei quadri
non penso al virus

Angela Giordano, Italy

 

rainbow palette
the smell of acrylic
on mail art

Christina Chin

 

wasting time
arranging wildflowers
wildly

Christina Pecoraro

 

irish stew
at the table with soda bread
and John Jameson

Paul Geiger, California

 

terrariums
my kids remember
when we created worlds

Pat Davis NH

 

collage
canvas shapes—
a hint…of… red

Lemuel Waite, Georgetown, Kentucky

 

littered
with good intentions –
marathon route

Roberta Beach Jacobson, USA

 

dollar dreams…
exchanging asian stamps
for an american stamp

R.Suresh Babu, India

 

doodles
in and out of ears
one word at a time

Alegria Imperial, BC, Canada

 

birdwatching
the one I know
by song alone

Bryan Rickert

 

home quarantined
he draws an extra sun
in his painting

Anjali Warhadpande

 

drooping beanstalk
pulling a misshapen carrot
from my veggie patch

Louise Hopewell

 

birdwatching
a new distance
‘tween old friends

Helga Stania

 

the body
spins, spins in pirouettes
stills in arabesques

Ann Rawson

 

watercolors
on a cotton sheet…
my spring

acquerelli
su un foglio di cotone…
la mia molla

*The term “spring” gets two different meanings in this way, spring as season but also spring figuratively as energy, incentive, doing something quickly. I have translated into italian the second meaning.

Daniela Misso

 

first clay class
molding a madonna
out of my melancholy

Pamela A Babusci

 

walking the new dog
our grumpy  neighbour
talks to me again

Eva Limbach, Germany

 

spruce rosewood maple mahogany songs my guitars sin

Mark Meyer

 

checking
in on friends
chess app

C.R. Harper

 

counseling
shrink calls my hobby
an OCD

Tomislav Sjekloća, Cetinje, Montenegro

 

closed sign his sleepless nights playing golf

Steve Tabb

 

winter break –
arms and arrows burn after
first practice

Franjo Ordanic

 

people watching . . .
I tear apart
a clock

Ronald K. Craig, Batavia, OH. USA

 

stuck at home
working out
spring haiku

Luisa Santoro

 

birdwatching
his eyes follow
his ears

Michele L. Harvey

 

on grey days
my ukulele and me
you are my sunshine…

Marisa Fazio

 

retirement
finishing a landscape from
a previous life

Clifford Rames, Freehold, NJ

 

river bed –
me and the waves
in a dance class

arvinder kaur, Chandigarh, India

 

world TV channel
my happily travelling
around  the globe

Stoianka Boianova

 

on a whittled stick
among three butterflies
a space for her mum

Robert Kingston, Chelmsford UK

 

once a hobby
now a habit—
scribbling

Madhuri Pillai

 

cloud watching the shape of my thoughts

Rashmi VeSa

 

midnight reading
in a road to infinity
interstellar ships

Minko Tanev

 

Portal
To the eternal forest
My childhood herbarium

Anna Goluba

 

cross-stitch
thoughts take shape
between my fingers

Elisa Allo

 

a day start –
loneliness left
a new haiku

Benedetta Cardone

 

seed pot
the scent of soil
touching my fingers

Janice Munro

 

horror flicks
a hint of the occult
in my poems

Jackie Chou, Pico Rivera, CA, USA

 

petals in the wind
stream of new stamps
for my collection

cezar-florin ciobîcă

 

binge watching stories on every face

Margaret Walker

 

clearing grandma’s house
what she called collectibles
her kids call junk

Charles Harmon, Lost Angeles

 

programming…
finally conversing
with my computer

Jibril Dauda Muhammad, Nigeria

 

belly dance hands
my baby eyes followed
my mother’s

*belly dance originated in Egypt where my mother was born. She showed me.

Kath Abela Wilson, Pasadena, California

 

whoopie daisy
overlooking sh*t for shot
in my poem

Pris Campbell

 

never punished
the child who paints
in her room

wendy c. bialek, az, usa

 

waiting so long
for my hobbies – finally
I am retired

Tomislav Maretić

 

sleeping newborn
i trade my electric
for an acoustic

Rich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO

 

anxiety knit
into every stitch
corona virus

Charlotte Hrenchuk

 

even the sleek red bike
is not immune
flat tire

Althea Meer

 

window seat…
all the places she visits
through books

Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio

 

dawn
in the bird room
budgies stretch their wings

Greer Woodward, Waimea, HI

 

ikebana
I bow to the tall flower
before I cut her

Susan Rogers, Los Angeles, CA

 

origami
shaping
my loneliness

cristina apetrei

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).