welcome to the haikutimes
Issue #142, Ute Trail and Range View Trail, Flagstaff Mountain, Boulder. April 13, 2008. Haiku poets: Patrick Lynn, Sanjay Rajan, Krista Morien, Sara Benson, David Harper, and Jonathan Machen. Photos by Jonathan.
lapsing into the timelessness
oops! - colliding with time
haiku moment scattering
bright green piece of gum
shoots out of my mouth and lands
on brown pine needles
sunglasses optional
but not advised if you want to
really see the spring green
kroo kroo kroo kroo kroo
doesn't sound like much of
a mating call to me
dog silent
and snow melts.
spring is here.
in a blade of sun
a bed of pine needles
comforts a tired body
lichen and fungus
always amongus
especially on my tongus
chipmunk habitat
they scamper easily
while children complain
ice turned to stream
and the moss flashed
a green smile
after a long sleep
green shoots tickle
and massage dry grass
orange heads
full of slobber
and warm hearts
the big hurry.
bigger tonight
among these pines
blue sky
and sweet pine.
spring sensory overload
raw excitement
for whipper snapper
knowing such thing as trail
a few grasshoppers
lazily testing their wings
in the bright spring meadow
patch of hidden snow
lying, as if it were winter,
on springs ground
delicate pink petals
unfold themselves skyward
and feast on the sun
incessant
chirp and pursuit
hot bird sex
black smear
of ash and ink.
sun dazzles.
glorious morning
of quiet and chacos
no big hurry
tenuous spring shoots
briefly squished beneath
a 168 pound Birkenstock sandal
butterfly dance
into the blue
jagged and aimless
red bull rush
better than pine nuts
says squirrel
crunch of
their soft paws
- spring snow.
knick-knick cascading
down granite rocks
silently
tender thing
and smell of fish.
jazzy's poo.
voluptuous male sex organs
delicately dangling
from tree branches
closing my eyes
flooded with an abundance
of sweet bird song
white ridge line
framed by endless blue
and verdant green
gray spreads
with each passing day.
his face and mine.
bleached vertebrae
worm-eaten wood
wings pass overhead
my trudging uphill
surely a spectacle
for some furry resident
search for a pasque flower
led me off trail
into a pinecone patch
in your haste, you might not
even see them - delicate,
quiet spring beauties
bird song, flapping wings
and wind surround my stillness
good to stop walking
rings of green
each of my fingers.
and wedding ring
spring meanders
from tree to tree
hiss and haunt.
the path
soft with snowmelt
receives my feet gently
first butterfly
glides cooly through the forest
as if it were no big deal
wishing Eckhart Tolle
and Oprah were here with us
on haiku walk
small furry paw
pushing through pine needles
pasque flower emerging
stroking the silky
fur of the pasque flower's stem
finally, it is spring
maybe it was here
where they first kissed, two pasque flowers
leaning into the sun
oak leaf rustle
even in early spring
still tough to let go
without eyes to see
the forest transcends
order and disorder
sideways sapling
bares the weight of winter
into spring
doggie angels
smile at me
wiggles in the snow
mating occurs in february
the pair bond dissolves in the fall
five months to go
i grow light and joyful
with the spring beauties
remembering myself
immense please
of things known
and unknown.
lapsing into the timelessness
oops! - colliding with time
haiku moment scattering
bright green piece of gum
shoots out of my mouth and lands
on brown pine needles
sunglasses optional
but not advised if you want to
really see the spring green
kroo kroo kroo kroo kroo
doesn't sound like much of
a mating call to me
dog silent
and snow melts.
spring is here.
in a blade of sun
a bed of pine needles
comforts a tired body
lichen and fungus
always amongus
especially on my tongus
chipmunk habitat
they scamper easily
while children complain
ice turned to stream
and the moss flashed
a green smile
after a long sleep
green shoots tickle
and massage dry grass
orange heads
full of slobber
and warm hearts
the big hurry.
bigger tonight
among these pines
blue sky
and sweet pine.
spring sensory overload
raw excitement
for whipper snapper
knowing such thing as trail
a few grasshoppers
lazily testing their wings
in the bright spring meadow
patch of hidden snow
lying, as if it were winter,
on springs ground
delicate pink petals
unfold themselves skyward
and feast on the sun
incessant
chirp and pursuit
hot bird sex
black smear
of ash and ink.
sun dazzles.
glorious morning
of quiet and chacos
no big hurry
tenuous spring shoots
briefly squished beneath
a 168 pound Birkenstock sandal
butterfly dance
into the blue
jagged and aimless
red bull rush
better than pine nuts
says squirrel
crunch of
their soft paws
- spring snow.
knick-knick cascading
down granite rocks
silently
tender thing
and smell of fish.
jazzy's poo.
voluptuous male sex organs
delicately dangling
from tree branches
closing my eyes
flooded with an abundance
of sweet bird song
white ridge line
framed by endless blue
and verdant green
gray spreads
with each passing day.
his face and mine.
bleached vertebrae
worm-eaten wood
wings pass overhead
my trudging uphill
surely a spectacle
for some furry resident
search for a pasque flower
led me off trail
into a pinecone patch
in your haste, you might not
even see them - delicate,
quiet spring beauties
bird song, flapping wings
and wind surround my stillness
good to stop walking
rings of green
each of my fingers.
and wedding ring
spring meanders
from tree to tree
hiss and haunt.
the path
soft with snowmelt
receives my feet gently
first butterfly
glides cooly through the forest
as if it were no big deal
wishing Eckhart Tolle
and Oprah were here with us
on haiku walk
small furry paw
pushing through pine needles
pasque flower emerging
stroking the silky
fur of the pasque flower's stem
finally, it is spring
maybe it was here
where they first kissed, two pasque flowers
leaning into the sun
oak leaf rustle
even in early spring
still tough to let go
without eyes to see
the forest transcends
order and disorder
sideways sapling
bares the weight of winter
into spring
doggie angels
smile at me
wiggles in the snow
mating occurs in february
the pair bond dissolves in the fall
five months to go
i grow light and joyful
with the spring beauties
remembering myself
immense please
of things known
and unknown.
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen