Orizuru and Migration

Orizuru

One thousand paper
cranes, shadows against gold dusk,
scatter on the wind.

Migration

|    deft claws                               heft                    gold stones
|          honed   wings steady the breeze     cranes
|      in fear                      sink                          release


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompts “crane” and “gold.” Orizuru are paper cranes, and legends tell that a crane will grant a wish to someone who makes (and keeps) 1,000 of them. As way of explaining the second effort, it is said that cranes will deliberately carry extra weight to ballast themselves against stronger winds. From what I can tell, that may be a matter of ancient lore.

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Hanami and Washi

Hanami

Hermits scrawl haiku
under thatched, sun-splintered roofs;
sakura blooming.

Washi

|             hermits                            scrawl       haiku
|                      daub         paper mulberry           minds
|          wolves’ tails    inked                                  fractured


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompt words “haiku” and “mind.” (The first is dependent on a bit of creative license: mind > head > roof.) “Hanami” refers to viewing parties when cherry trees (sakura) blossom. “Washi” refers to paper traditionally used for artwork and calligraphy.

Remember to try and read the experimental form in various ways; it’s not meant for a straightforward reading. Just as writing is a practice of experimentation, reading must be creative, too.

Calliope; Writer’s Block; and Recovery (Three Haiku)

Calliope

Calliope bears
the memories of heroes
in her clay tablet.

Writer’s Block

Ink-stained pearl surface:
the drowning of a drained pen —
my spent muse laments.

Recovery

|         ink-stained                       pearl                                  surface
|                    hand          wrenched free, discovered           warps
|             bleeding                                     muse                       allayed


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, based on the prompts “muse” and “pen.” Coincidentally, I was researching the Muses for another piece before seeing this prompt; Calliope felt like a necessary subject for this considering that her emblem is a writing tablet. (Okay, that’s not a pen, but hopefully it’s regarded as thematically related.)

Thrush

Unseen birds calling:
budding forest’s melody —
solicitation.

|          unseen          birds                         calling
|         bud                rising euphonies              yen
|               stirring                          deaf                echoes


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompts, “cheer” and “call.” (I took some creative liberties with “cheer.”) Since I’ve been providing a more standard/traditional haiku alongside my experimental ones, I wanted to try out the same opening line in both and see where they’d go.

I know this is for a haiku community, but if you’re also interested in flash fiction, check out this past quarter’s winning entries at Micro Bookends and vote for your three favorite pieces before Thursday (10/22/15).

Taiga and Mo(u)rning

Taiga

Deciduous gold,
autumn’s windfall — I pity
the unchanging pines.

Mo(u)rning

|          dawn climbs                                     low             hilltops
|             jade                dew-dropped pine needles     gleam
|                         ivies                 droop                                              with grief


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, based on the prompts “pine” and “grief.” If my writings interest you, check out my newly released flash fiction, “A Murder of One” over at freeze frame fiction. It’s not overly stylized like my haiku experiments, but a character study of a decidedly different sort with plenty to decipher. (Sorry to anyone that regularly sees my posts on here, I’m going to keep pushing this for a couple of days.)

Lullaby and Gymnopédie I

Lullaby

aeolian strings;
breeze surreptitiously strums
dusk’s halcyon psalm

Gymnopédie I

|     dancing       strings                            candled
|            lone           harpist’s serenade         clear
|            shadow                               wafts         refrain


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Weekly Haiku Challenge, which provided the prompts “harp” and “clear.” To save you the trouble of researching, the Gymnopédies are a collection of three piano compositions by Erik Satie. While they were initially intended for piano, they’ve been performed in numerous fashions. For anyone curious, here are the songs as I first encountered them. Satie’s Gnossiennes would probably make more sense in relation to my haiku for their experimental composition, but I’m sticking with Gymnopédie I simply because it was the only solo harp song in my possession.