Matisse tanka
Calm red inside
and blue veins climb. A woman
touches the fruit bowl.
In the window, trees
white-blossoming.
More grandson haiku
Before school
ten minutes in heaven
drawing devils
It’s after bedtime -
he proffers a specious argument
with a smile.
Drawing
he moves his mouth in silence
as the head appears.
Koan retreat haiku
On Here Hill,
at Now o’clock, I meet This.
A chestnut stallion.
A new gentle me -
sheep keep their distance
the crow flaps off
Roshi’s sermon -
a wren at the window
hops from thought to thought
Fire-heat and the lamp’s hiss.
Whilst from the kitchen
the sound of a whisk.
Path to the farm -
herringbone ruts
glistening with ice
Zazen - I have
“Ordinary Mind”; my shadow
ordinary head
Daydreaming
the demon plans a well-received
study of demons.
Tralfamadorians
sit under their stars
sharing our wonder
Haiku
Maglev train
picnic party - the floating world
on a concrete path
Three people
I judged uncultured
kind to me today
Again and again
the white surf breaks
as we hold from talking
Kitten
in my stiff fingers
its eager heart
Rain on the window.
The knife in the bowl
trembles
Ten thousand bright waves -
the anchor warp squeaks
as we bow to each one.
Lord Plover
in wet ermine
sucks mud
Dad never spoke of love
but now, the tongue risen
the mouth gapes
The curlew’s call
still resonating, I dream
the withered baby
Spotlit, stepping
on a gold-flecked plinth,
the chipped old buddha.
One son missing
the other a fool
Christmas marmalade
Tugged half under,
the mooring buoy
in the spring ebb tide
Incense for John
rising into whatever
the grey sky is
Cockerel
the same notes at dawn
for 10,000 years
Contorted trunk
clambers its twist to
a tuft of birdsong
Sparrows
splash and scream
in an angel’s wing
In the winter wind
between derelict factories
waterripples
Feeding ducks
the ginger skinhead
opens and shuts his mouth
The wipers sweep, sweep,
on the radio news
an abandoned child
Orange sun white cloud
through the plane’s
egg window
Flapping fingers
stinking of varnish
she laughs at vanity.
Always roaring
the echo in me
of the wind between stars
Fractals in sand -
the ebbing tide
knows how
Picking winter scraps
in The Mower’s blades
old yellow-beak.
Always roaring
faintly in the background
tinnitus of bliss
Ken’s Great Leap
into the all-too-clear
from the unknown
Golden snakes
behind the bins,
the dog eating wasps
Flickering shag -
at first thrilling...
then baffling
(after Basho)
Under the hill
tarmac whispers
shadows of passing
To stragglebush
the topiarist
brings pride
In a non-world
I taste the salmon sandwich
I didn’t choose
Rounding the headland home
the shushing of ripples
licking the hull
Forgiveness -
and after the rain swallows
feast over fields
That pretty cloud
I saw yesterday
and liked so…
Lying in the grass
watching; hearing
the skylark disappear
Family barbecue
the moon sails West
clouds sail East
Rain on the frail roof
fiercely drumming
Ancestor Blues
In reverie I feel
her shadow cross my eyelids.
Rockpool scattering
I bow to great nature
and wave a goodbye
to all of you