|
COLLABORATIVE POETRY
CAT IN ITS IDLENESS
Anna Attard Cini
Francis Attard
Cat in its idleness
& appetite for whitebait good ...
the cluttered desk
the strangle-hold of warm talk
by the door-to-door salesman
the morning glory
star-shaped blue at daybreak
the woven blossom
quorum for Sunday meeting
at the vegans club
not much
of a weight added, shadow
of no import
frown on her face sums it all up,
but who will notice?
the shrike's cry
takes us by surprise
weak lock on the door
changing house just a whim
the sultry heat & a low moon
randomly profound
the mood for a heart tattoo
a smile seducing
a gilded mask with stubborn
chin & smooth mouth says love
in Venice for Carnival
under the Bridge of Sighs
promises withdrawn
bare shoulders cold
under a wintry sky
the imminent fear
of nightfall
of profiles
in its inherited strain
auctioneer’s voice fast &
furious
dowager in riding boots
& on the leash
a greyhound
a whiff of good will
autumn at the livestock show
in its fancy framework
scarecrow's warhorse look
& the moon is bright
oak tree design on minted coin
woodpecker sculpts
DRUNK ON RAINBOWS
Susan Constable
Jane Reichhold
Ken Wanamaker
butterfly colors
the air woven with
autumn leaves /jr
near the cornucopia
a wild geese sampler /kw
fir needles
finding their way
into the house /sc
each of the party guests arrive
wrapped in different perfumes /jr
sandalwood
burning on porcelain...
winter moon /kw
the distortion of my smile
in the car's hubcap/ sc
who can hear
the wild heart beating
racetrack varoom / jr
only the yearning herdsman
scuffling through leftover snow / kw
in solitude
I gather fiddlehead ferns
for tonight's salad /sc
eating an elegant dinner
we listen to the violin solo / jr
a stream
of champagne swirling
in my flute/ kw
drunk with the beauty
of sweet peas and rainbows /sc
composed online at AHAforum
September 27-October 27, 2011
YUGEN* DIALOGUE
Valentin Dishev
Vania Stefanova
Trace in memory
Shadow of a gnome
Idea is on tiptoe
Horny cat
Fingers of a idea
The cat is puma
Red and black
The cougar to hunt
Hunters of words
Singing boomerang
Haiga Emily Romano
NEW ROOF
Dick Pettit : 1, 5, 10,14,17, 20,23,26, 30,3
Jann Wirtz : 2, 6, 9, 13,19, 22,25,28, 32
Hanne Hansen : 3, 7, 12,16, 29, 31,33,35
Vasile Moldovan : 4 ,8, 11,15,18, 21,24,27, 3
the new roof
should be on next week
autumn rain
apple scented attic
roots in the cellar
the sky in silver
the landscape in grey colours
cannot find the moon
today the old people listen
to the echo of childhood bells
sorting gear
in the dusty pavilion
time for tea
cold hands around the cup
add a dash of amber*
out in the streets
waving old flags
on the first of May
rocking on a lime twig
two turtle doves
citrus slice
and a pinch of salt
Tequila passions
I could if I thought I should
but maybe I won't
the smile of a child
is enough for the parents
to end their quarrel
cries at the doctor's
his dog is no big comfort
seeing the Tardis
far beyond Sirius
the Volpuk hides her eyes
snow in the wintry wind
stings like specks of ice
tracks of sledges
icicles hanging from
grandpa's moustache
grandma cooks every day
she loves boiled potatoes
march wind
a single spray of blossom
taps on the window
on the Easter Monday too
they remain in the parents' house
the war over, but still
fear of snipers
in the greening streets
there's a city in the jungle
completely overgrown
North Star brilliant
laurels of the Nobel Prize
on a poet's forehead
Red Bull Podium hero
drenches all in champagne
a glorious night
the moon out, dancers
reeling in the square
the whirlwind snatches an unread
love letter from my hand
into the storm
with no word spoken
now I'll never know
louder than the hubbub
a friendly touch
Valentine's concert:
chirping sparrows under the eaves,
minstrels at the window
little winter flowers
frost on the birdbath
nobody could reach
the big violet orchid
before it drowned
thrashing about, his wallet
disappears in the crowd
this windfall
finances a six-week stay
in Thailand
a backpacker teaches a while
at a school under the trees
steady purpose
and persistent application
is the key to success
a kitten finds a hundred things
to touch or look at
our baby in her pram
on her first trip
in the light green wood
only a breath of wind and
wild bees beginning to swarm
* amber = whisky
THE RABBIT'S EARS
Giselle Maya
Amelia Fielden
long after
their harvest time,
dry corn husks
the shape and color
of a rabbit’s ears
man in the moon
rabbit in the moon. . .
why is it
I see there only
the delay of daylight
Rabbit
wise and cautious
do teach us
to go straight ahead steadily
walking between rain drops
in our car
the navigation system
displays only
the streets one should drive,
not the way one should live
Sunday lunch
with three friends
a salad with violets
and in her garden
we find snowdrops
the importance
of small things, these earrings
he chose himself
more valued than the sum
left to me in his will
shadows
of shaven heads
on the shoji –
walking slowly at a temple
long searched for
paper blossoms
showing on the shoji
there are children
with pokey fingers
in this family home
twelve-armed
Kannon at a Nara temple ...
delighted
I stay in her presence
rooted to the earth
to the music
of a bush-warbler,
black butterflies
dance above yellow iris
at Narihira's temple
a flower’s name
deep blue thistle face
not remembered ...
when I stop thinking
‘cornflower’ comes to mind
"off with his head"
Alice's dream or nightmare
in Wonderland
so colourful, so scarey
so loved by children
at the tea party
"does your watch
tell you what year it is ?”
the hatter and the hare
expand Alice’s sense of time
a harmony
of kimono-clad ladies
attentive
to their tea ceremony master,
to the tightness of tradition
on the scroll
rabbit in the moon
painted –
was it you who crossed
my path this winter dawn ?
SNOWFLAKES MELTING
Patricia Prime
Rodney Williams
I recall his kiss
when we met at the station
that winter's day
before going to a concert
snowflakes melting on our lips
eighteen years
together from age eighteen
her ex-partner
still cooks her a Christmas pudding
another eighteen years on
she carries a book,
towel and bottled water
to the beach . . .
but she'd rather be in town
where her friends are partying
birthday calls
to my older brother ~
he always wishes
me my own happy returns
four days overdue
at a party
my nephew introduces
his new girlfriend ~
a tall girl, with blonde hair:
a Niuean beauty
sighing, she smiles
listening to his schemes . . .
her cat
between their pillows
really the one in charge
taken for a stroll
in the foothills that open
from her garden gate
I share a slice of her life
a swathe of her thoughts
my son a chemist
in doctoral research
beyond me
tells family friends with pride
how his father's poems improve
Haiga Alan Taylor
OVERLOOKING THE OCEAN
Patricia Prime
Rodney Williams
a circus of birds
performs on the beach:
oystercatchers,
terns and black-backed gulls,
fossicking for shell fish
jellyfish
sponges and sea-cucumbers
pipi and kelp
over warm golden sand
a laden picnic cloth
struggling
out of his clothes
a young father
sprints down to the sea
& splashes his naked baby
jade-green
as his love's eyes
the cape
pokes its tongue
at a storm out to sea
'first sketch the coastline
with a soft pencil', I say
to my granddaughter
as she paints a watercolour
using one of her brushes
against the sandbar
beyond this sheltered inlet
white caps
from the break off the strait...
telling you the truth
on the bluff
overlooking the ocean
a memorial plaque
to hundreds of drowned sailors
aboard HMS Orpheus
through these heads
the South Pacific ...
hector dolphins
smallest of their kind
direct our helm to harbour
EVERY FEATHER
Patricia Prime V1, 6, 7, 11
Andre Surridge V2, 4, 9, 12
Catherine Mair V3, 5, 8, 10
noon sun
camellia petals
begin to fade
warmer day, all the car windows
down a little for her dog
from the bridge
she stares at the water hole
where boys dive at full tide
saved for later
a letter from an old friend
overseas
full moon, the dementia patient
recognizes raindrops on the path
along with autumn
the revolutions
of a clothesline
I wear a warm blue jacket
pretending it wasn't secondhand
haiku boulder
rescued from the flood tides
lovingly hosed down
a steaming hot bath
light drains from the sky
perched on the railing
a quail
every feather just so
a spray of orange blossom
in the girl's hair
dad's garden
she pulls spring onions
for the salad
OVERLOOKING THE BAY
Andre Surridge: V1, V4, V7, V10
Catherine Mair: V2, V5, V9, V.12
Patricia: Prime V3, V6, V8, V11
cherry blossom –
what a journey
this ant has made
his flecked eyes
too cool for springtime
family gathering
our talk punctuated by
laughter
hulling strawberries
one for her, two for the bowl
inking haiku
on carved boulders –
the stained knees of her jeans
retirement present
a gold-nibbed fountain pen
memoirs
must wait, he has to paint
the house
autumn wind turns the child’s hair
into a burnished halo
in moonlight
that slight hump in the ground
the old cat’s grave
freshly baked cheese scones
her grandmother’s recipe
winter wedding
he adjusts the bride’s
fur stole
overlooking the bay
the spot where he proposed
THE KEEPER OF TWO DOORS
Werner Reichhold
James Joyce – The lines of James Joyce are taken from his book Finnegan’s Wake, first
published in Great Britain by Faber and Faber Lrd 1939.
I
(About the structure of a beam continuously be lengthened and clay
birds taking flight)
Hightime is up be it down into ours according
bride-luck the shifting of shaking shambolically
park’s acoo with sucking loves Rosimund’s by her wishing well
the book of skinheads swallowed one picture of two heirs
in the house of breathings lies that word all fairness
so cheesed in the pharynx of a Burgerqueen
the permission of overalls with the cooperation of night-shirt
she’s an elf for English as she was a seven-by-the-teen
how they succeed by courting daylight in saving darkness
the evil of axes leaking oil
our thirty minutes wars alull
overgrown milestone in its own snake hole
the toy that shall claxonise his whereabouts
godfather’s mini-nukes pass through the custom
where flesh becomes word and silents selfloud
II
(Shifting scenery: After death your identity may have to respond to
stimuli of which you have a chance to get a foretaste now)
knock – knock
wars where
which war
whooveropium smells
the hord a step sideways
on the bunk of bread
winning lies the corpse
of our seedfather
harvesting naked
ladies-go-to-bulb
quiet
takes back
her folded files
the slender by the walks
way through the creek
at her proper mitts
if she then
the then that matters
gnostophonically tuned
in church? No
Mr. Bish hops into jail
the lunger it takes
the sooner they tumble two
sand
the way I think
of floating time
the swayful pathway of the dragonfly
spider stay still in reedery
global warming
the siren yells
global cooling
spell me the chimes
they are tales all tolled
III
(Attempts against steeling our historic presence from the past postpropheticals)
Unclean you art not. Outcaste thou are not.
Leperstower, the karman’s loki, has not blanched at
our pollution and your intercourse at ninety legsplits does not
defile.
Untouchable is not the scarecrown is on you. You are pure.
You are pure. You are in your purity. You have not brought stinking
members into the house of Amanti.
Ellem Inam, Titep Notep
we name them to the Hall of Honour.
Your head has been touched
by the god Ennel-Rah and your face has been brightened by the goddess
Aruc-Ituc.
Faithlifters say charismaticans appear in glass-mobiles.
Maya sends Mia
headfront down the temple for indulgence by the meter-man’s oracle.
Tableau! Tantra & Chiropractic,
turbulance, tabularasa, tick-of-tech
but fine alley tete-a-tete: how quallcomic
he chews on his sandwitch, how netescaped she giggles whisperushing her teenaddress:
<give-in@worm.org>
IV
(When the appropriate wave of the unseen laps upon the shore of
possibility, and more than two patterns are moving at a time.)
Daphnedews
how all so still she lay
neath of the whitehorn
child of tree
like some losthappy leaf
much to foretell
much with no consequences
burning
breath sailing through
its own attention
wind broke it
wave bore it
reed wrote of it
Syke ran with
hand tore and wild went war
shell shaped sway
as if wishes follow
the night-view of an oyster
the kind that hosts in ripples
a soft lip’s storm
terror of the nonstruck by day
cryptogam of each nightly bridable
game here endeth
the curtain drops
by deep request
seems to be mutating
as on early waves
stand still orange
evening behind blinds
in your mirror
pfall if you but will
rise you must
for the nod of the nabir
is better than wink
to wabsanties’
sleeve-touch-dream
merely electric
eccentric
one hand in the first room
of a beach castle
First published in Lost and Found Times, June, 2004
THE SEA OF TRANQUILLITY
September space probe
skirting the sea
of tranquillity pm
big orange berries
glow in the sun fm
she makes a present
of her old Halloween costume
to her daughter vp
silence: ghost writer
recasts a rejected script fa
at the zebra crossing
the lollipop lady
and fierce looks fm
dad snickers
at our lovely ski holiday pm
widow & toy boy
come party crashing
on New Year's Day fa
taped to the back of a drawer
a love note from long ago vp
frankly my dear
I don’t give
a damn pm
opera by Berlioz
(3,7) across fm
the train to Darjeeling
zigzags into
cool mountain air vp
crab enters a trumpet shell
hermit under the moon fa
being wired up slowly
the subject quips about
sleep deprivation fm
counting Liverpool’s
superlambananas pm
on the poster
it is raining civil servants
with bowler hats fm
daily trip to the office
a white butterfly vp
fragrance at daybreak
azalea unfolds its blossom
of frilled petals fa
the newborn lamb
shakes its woolly tail vp
This is an autumn imachi.
See http://renkureckoner.co.uk/
click on imachi.
Players:
pm = Paul Mercken, sabaki (The Netherlands)
fm = Fokkina McDonnell (United Kingdom)
vp = Vanessa Proctor (Australia)
fa = Francis Attard (Malta) |
DE ZEE DER STILTE
de ruimtesonde
van september scheert over
de zee der stilte
dikke oranje bessen
gloeien in de zon
ze schenkt
haar oude Halloweenkostuum
aan haar dochter
stilte: spookschrijver herwerkt
het afgewezen script
bij het zebrapad
de klaar-over
en vinnige blikken
Klaartje Kip en Minnie Mouse
lekker op skivakantie
weduwe & toyboy
komen een feestje binnenvallen
op nieuwjaarsdag
achter een lade geplakt
een billet doux van lang geleden
eerlijk gezegd liefje
kan het mij
geen donder schelen
opera van Berlioz
(3,7) horizontaal
de trein naar Darjeeling
zigzagt op weg naar
koele berglucht
krab kruipt in een trompetschelp
heremiet onder de maan
langzaam bedraad
grapt het subject over
slaaptekort
het tellen in Liverpool
van superlambananas
op de poster
regent het ambtenaren
met bolhoeden
de sleur naar het kantoor
een witte vlinder
odeur bij dageraad
azalea ontvouwt haar bloesem
van geplisseerde blaadjes
het pas geboren lam
schudt zijn wollig staartje
Dit is een herfst-imachi.
Zie http://renkureckoner.co.uk/
klik imachi aan.
Spelers:
pm = Paul Mercken, sabaki en vertaler (Nederland)
fm = Fokkina McDonnell (Verenigd Koninkrijk)
vp = Vanessa Proctor (Australië)
fa = Francis Attard (Malta) |
Paul Mercken having sent the 18-verse imachi from his group, I thought it might be interesting to have an old one as well. I translated le Saké Nouveau from the French of René Sieffert in Friches, his translation of the whole Areno 1689 collection of 10 kasen & 400+ hokku. The one half-kasen is by Ransetsu & Etsujin, two of the leading lights in the Nagoya group encouraged by Bashö.
The translation can't be exact, but hopefully gives a fair idea. It's dedicated to Francis Attard, whose idea it was, I think, that their group should make an imachi. Dick Pettit.
NEW WINE – SAKÉ NOUVEAU
Translated by Dick Pettit from the French by René Sieffert in Friches which was translated from the Japanese in Arano.
not worth drinking
there's a lack of fortification
in le saké nouveau
jolly nippy this autumn
and I don't care for hot baths
while he sleeps
moonlight through the window
on his scattered books
collecting medicinal herbs
in the shade of the mountain
shouts and kicks
as wild horses harass
his peaceful nag
across the river, then
the footpath to the castle
a pockmarked face
but teeth so clear and gleaming
like ivory
she doesn't know music
but a wonderful voice
tears flow down
as pass to here and there
wandering clouds
ordered to marry again
he's distressed and helpless
all morning
he's been frying for the guests
sleeves rolled up
the paper lanterns fixed
a handyman takes his leave
taking off
one of his garments to be
ironed and scented
tomorrow the priestly tonsure
tonight this beautiful moon
all the womenfolk
out in the whitening dew
shedding tears
the doctor doesn't care
he just turns his back
blossom falling
dusk coming on
nothing stops him talking
the little bird calling
what tales could he tell?
Haiga Wolfgang Beutke & Anne-Dore Beutke
| 
