welcome to the haikutimes
Issue #133, Settlers Park, Boulder Creek, January, 2007, plus photos from Brainard Lake and Eldora's south face. The Boulder Haiku Group sets out on a snowy winter day to distill poetry from the soft submersion of snow along Colorado's Front Range in January, 2007. Haiku by Patrick Lynn, Krista Morien, Sara Benson, Tom Hopson and Jonathan Machen, plus special contributions by Gene Langlois. Photos by Jonathan. Jonathan's family cartoon for 2007 can be reached by clicking here.
evidence written
in snow: those with yack-trax
and those without
a stubble of trees
on a white hill flank reminds me
i forgot to shave!
after hot chocolate
spitting a brown loogey
into the white snowbank
tall slender sapling
the winged embrace of red rock
nature making love
twizzling tree branches
won't let me pick them
frozen solid
light fluffy golden
saying hello to himself:
light fluffy snow
the red rocks stubbornly
protrude as everything else
retreats in whiteness
long winter
the snow-covered playground
accepts more snow
a muffled silence
snowflakes tinging my jacket
oh! the peace of it!
gabbing blue gore tex
gaggle of search and rescuers
on a faux-rescue
her voice soaring
above the falling snow
weightless and free
lapping of water
sounds so inviting--but not
on this winter day
snowy day
as usual the creek and its beauty
flow through the city
close call on trail ice
my coffee is redundant
yes, i am awake!
krista silently
slips deeper into the woods
as i draw nearer
if i grow old
will i still bite my fingernails
and chew dead skin of my lips?
the snow falls faster
more white
less world
lost
in poetic time warp
she glides past
reluctant
to follow fox prints
out on ice shelf
flakes on a black nose
seen through the eyes of my dog
joy in new fresh snow
patrick has gone mute
in the layers of whiteness
gently falling and resting
singing
at the top of her lungs
to snowflakes falling
ending up with
half haikus in the softly
falling snow
snowflakes fall on me
but don't stick, rushing river
never standing still
scooping snow out from
a finely woven nest
resting in branches
if you really listen
the sound of the falling snow
gets louder and louder
snow-covered trees
not waiting for spring
just two months away
by now the trees
have completely surrendered
to snow: but have i?
welcoming embrace
of winters snowy goodness
kids with plastic sleds
time falls so slowly
collecting on bare tree limbs
in haiku mind
boulder creek rushes
in one ear, stillness settles
in the other
summer's cactus
hangs from rock crack
like winter's scrotum
river under ice
fresh snowfall all but obscuring
last weeks partial thaw
too busy
with proactivity
to be really here
sitting by the creek
yesterday's practice was good
and now it's today
an awareness of
the little things
like the nail that falls to the floor -
twigs, plastic,
things i notice right before
they go into his mouth
though a windy day
stellar, beautiful
babies included
ceran st. vrain trail
friends - packit, sara,
invited to join the threesome
the third small member
of the family
bundled in baby fleece
the fierce wind
through the windshield
blowing cold tempest
through top of evergreens
not mattering in the least, of course
while driving and talking
but the trailhead
windy and forbidding
throwing on skis, hats,
scarves and sunglasses
heading over narrow bridge
covered almost to the railing
the winding trail
through conifers close and dense
the small child in backpack
viewable through tiny mirror
on left shoulder strap
babblings turn
to mutterings
turning to complaints
then full-fledged,
ferocious screams
as the final mile to the trail
enveloped
by minus wind
chill temperatures
how useful time is
when you come to understand
it's meaninglessness
only one question
you should ask of your garden
can I blossom here?
garden's one lesson
weeds will come and weeds will go
simply......keep on planting
Love has a secret
but it grows in just one place
garden of the mind
seeds of forgiveness
planted in the womb of mind
harvest inner peace
evidence written
in snow: those with yack-trax
and those without
a stubble of trees
on a white hill flank reminds me
i forgot to shave!
after hot chocolate
spitting a brown loogey
into the white snowbank
tall slender sapling
the winged embrace of red rock
nature making love
twizzling tree branches
won't let me pick them
frozen solid
light fluffy golden
saying hello to himself:
light fluffy snow
the red rocks stubbornly
protrude as everything else
retreats in whiteness
long winter
the snow-covered playground
accepts more snow
a muffled silence
snowflakes tinging my jacket
oh! the peace of it!
gabbing blue gore tex
gaggle of search and rescuers
on a faux-rescue
her voice soaring
above the falling snow
weightless and free
lapping of water
sounds so inviting--but not
on this winter day
snowy day
as usual the creek and its beauty
flow through the city
close call on trail ice
my coffee is redundant
yes, i am awake!
krista silently
slips deeper into the woods
as i draw nearer
if i grow old
will i still bite my fingernails
and chew dead skin of my lips?
the snow falls faster
more white
less world
lost
in poetic time warp
she glides past
reluctant
to follow fox prints
out on ice shelf
flakes on a black nose
seen through the eyes of my dog
joy in new fresh snow
patrick has gone mute
in the layers of whiteness
gently falling and resting
singing
at the top of her lungs
to snowflakes falling
ending up with
half haikus in the softly
falling snow
snowflakes fall on me
but don't stick, rushing river
never standing still
scooping snow out from
a finely woven nest
resting in branches
if you really listen
the sound of the falling snow
gets louder and louder
snow-covered trees
not waiting for spring
just two months away
by now the trees
have completely surrendered
to snow: but have i?
welcoming embrace
of winters snowy goodness
kids with plastic sleds
time falls so slowly
collecting on bare tree limbs
in haiku mind
boulder creek rushes
in one ear, stillness settles
in the other
summer's cactus
hangs from rock crack
like winter's scrotum
river under ice
fresh snowfall all but obscuring
last weeks partial thaw
too busy
with proactivity
to be really here
sitting by the creek
yesterday's practice was good
and now it's today
an awareness of
the little things
like the nail that falls to the floor -
twigs, plastic,
things i notice right before
they go into his mouth
though a windy day
stellar, beautiful
babies included
ceran st. vrain trail
friends - packit, sara,
invited to join the threesome
the third small member
of the family
bundled in baby fleece
the fierce wind
through the windshield
blowing cold tempest
through top of evergreens
not mattering in the least, of course
while driving and talking
but the trailhead
windy and forbidding
throwing on skis, hats,
scarves and sunglasses
heading over narrow bridge
covered almost to the railing
the winding trail
through conifers close and dense
the small child in backpack
viewable through tiny mirror
on left shoulder strap
babblings turn
to mutterings
turning to complaints
then full-fledged,
ferocious screams
as the final mile to the trail
enveloped
by minus wind
chill temperatures
how useful time is
when you come to understand
it's meaninglessness
only one question
you should ask of your garden
can I blossom here?
garden's one lesson
weeds will come and weeds will go
simply......keep on planting
Love has a secret
but it grows in just one place
garden of the mind
seeds of forgiveness
planted in the womb of mind
harvest inner peace
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen