Haikutimes.com

welcome to the haikutimes

Issue #141, Gregory Canyon/Chautauqua, February 10, 2008. Skirting the stunning geology of Chautauqua Park, Gregory Canyon and the Flatirons, Haiku poets Jonathan Machen, Patrick Lynn, Krista Morien, Sanjay Rajan, Robert Power, David Harper, Susan Peterson and Sara Benson convene for a haiku walk in February, 2008.




gigantic cloud
ejects a few airplanes
into blue skies




waiting for warmth
this time of transition
always interesting




gray sky
this sunday morning
not reflecting my spirit




berries, shriveled, black
at the ends of branches, pose
as winter flowers




tiny jingle bell dog
trying not to be a meal
for a mountain lion




standing meditation
even breathing gets quiet
winter pine forest




in a gray
snaggle of branches
a mountain jay cocks it's head




haiku poet,
she skitters across the snow
tenderly, downhill




dabs of pure black
caw and circle
in the pure blue




under warming skies
society and nature
coexist with ease




surprised by a pair
of brilliant blue underwear
buried in the snow




ice and snow record
the wand'rings of squirrels, dogs,
and "stay-on-trail" people




we are born again
each day to our divine selves
just like new snowflakes




jack russell
outfitted with a cowbell
jingle jangle




i crush a juniper berry
hold it to my nose
and forget its name




minutes off the trail
i am in another world
of cactus and cliffs




wondering
how many lichens
can fit on this rock




what happens when words
don't even come anymore?
i am the haiku




droves of folks - walking
along the trail - tell their
stories with each other




sun out
warms my back
cucumber grass for lunch




dull grey snowfield
brightens to reveal my shadow
then returns to grey




kinnickinik rd.
remnants of a people
on a blue street sign




relationship tears
us apart and then it puts
us back together




much later
remembering the weight of my head
resting in her hands




wherefore art thou, green,
seldom seen down low amidst
grey white winter lands




stepping into
this protected white world
hidden trail of stillness




pants down, squat, pants up
quicker than a lightning bolt
then slow walk to the trail




richard simmons sighting
huff puff in a sweatshirt
in icy treadmill




nature's gleaners
flit from bare branch
to bare branch




at the juncture of
startled look, privacy secure?
- viewing and peeing




social agenda
intersects with random day
creating haiku




no trespassing
video surveillance in use
violators will be prosecuted




man, woman, child
all life has it's own story
rock, pinecone and snow




desperate for the sun
to come out which it does
so i don my sunglasses




clump of shit
wrapped in plastic
and winter snow




north-facing slope
glossed in white
long time till spring




without leaves, i see
the dance of branches dripping
into the creek bed




the eagerness
of haiku poets in february
pushes back the clouds




alternate route to somewhere
marked by hoof prints
in the snow




the tree wraps its roots
around lichen covered stone
a seat in the shade




sitting on a log
like a squirrel - shoveling
assorted nuts into my mouth




frozen neighborhood
birds sing from
their hidden places




dangling my feet
over the edge
in the coming spring




a few green leaves
amidst the winter rust shades
of the grape root plant




low roar of highway
interrupted by
chickadee staccato




suddenly in awe
of what's been all around me
forest of deep repose




dog paws and deer hoofs
squirrel feet and boots - their prints
"iced" along the trail




sense of place
no sense of time
among things wild




under this massive cloud,
resting in the moment
with these patient trees




late winter -
water dribbles down the creek
listening


solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen