Category: Haiku

A collection of all the haiku and micropoems I wrote on this web site.

Our Yard Today – Haibun

Joyfully sipping the picture with eyes, absorbing the blueness of the skies, I sit, humbly and quietly. Gazing into the distance, and then, in the tree crown towering above my yard. The gate is a portal leading to anotherness, a guard keeping our bliss within. High in the sky, birds fly their happy flights. Birds in the tree chirp lulling me into soft euphory.

Blue and blissful sky
Trees – the home for sweet songs
Blossom petals floating.

© 2023, soulmary

I’m not even sure what I did is haibun by all its rules. But it was great fun trying to do this, and this has been my first attempt at this form. Check the original prompt at the Poetic Bloomings blog and see what you can do with the prompt. Also, there are other very nice poems there to read.

What’s Next – Day 27, November PAD

Slowly, autumn fades.
The bare branches rattle –
no home for the birds.

© Mariya K, 2020

Thankful – Day 26, November PAD

Yellow grace dancing
in swirling serenity
Slowly, autumn fades.

© Mariya K, 2020

The 2 of Us – Day 12, November PAD

The two of us look
in one direction all the
seasons, all the times.

The two of us bring
laughter to any story
bathing in the smiles.

The two of us dance
in various funny moves.
All is possible,

Because the right two
will equal infinity
the two of us are.

© Mariya K, 2020

Time – haiku

Time whooshes past the tree
where blossoms wake to beauty.
A sigh stops short.

(c) 2020 Mariya Koleva

Satellite Haiku – Two for Tuesday


~~~
A satellite dish,
the house – unpopulated
Emptiness broadcast.
~~~

Autumn Morning Haiku

I was checking the blogs I follow on Tumblr the other day, when I saw a haibun that provoked some thinking. I usually spend mornings getting ready for work and having coffee and small breakfast while listening to the morning news on one of the TV channels. I don’t do sit down at my coffee contemplating the morning and creating poetry. And why is that? I have all it takes: a nice balcony with flower pots, a view over some tree crowns and a coffee table from where to enjoy it all.

So, the next morning I went straight to it. After making coffee, of course. And I took some pictures to add to my poetry. Here is my haiku of the day, and the collage I made to support it.

No blooms in the pots
Solitary green leaves –
grey morning in autumn.

That was, for real, the first such morning. Summer was so rainy that we waited for it until August. I hoped it would last longer than usual. But now it stepped away to autumn. Not fair at all! We want more!

Haibun is a piece of art where you write a short prose paragraph and add a haiku to it, thus making a whole thing. The blog post that impressed me so much was that of my friend Bjorn Rudberg whom I met through micro poetry originally, and who has since opened to longer forms. All that said, I can now move on to my day.

Yoga Class Haiku

Two days ago, I joined the yoga class of a colleague, and it felt so good. I haven’t been to yoga for over 2 months now, and I’ve never done yoga in the open. That was so much better than inside.
Here’s the haiku I wrote about it:

Yoga class outside
the poplars whisper soft
dry leaves on the green grass.

© 2018 MK

Autumn Tan Renga Challenge at the end of August

For this Tan Renga Challenge, we had to take an original piece by Santoka Taneda (Tr. John Stevens) and add a second 14-syllable stanza to it.
Here is the final piece:

Autumn heat –
my begging bowl
is full of rice.

The breeze is rich with joy from
summer memories and thoughts.

The prompt was given by Kristjaan at his blog for haiku and Japanese poetry.

A Flower at Night

###
a flower at night
drops its head in reverie
of warm mother earth

(c) 2018, MK

My humble haiku was written as a response to this week’s Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #14 – Revise that Haiku. Here is the original piece I considered while writing my own. And on Chevrefeuille’s prompt blog site you can read the background story in detail:

falling to the ground
a flower closer to the root
bidding farewell

© Matsuo Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)