Cooking “Haiku”

it is snowing outside

peeling sprouts,

the layers of a season

 

bashful potatoes blush.

their red faces

surrender to nakedness

 

twelve sausages

now in a pan

oiled with summer’s scent

 

these slippery elvers

flow over the weir.

an olive branch bows

 

the world needs

an ointment, a salve

something virgin, and new

 

soon they will marry

the butters, now churned

with a little pepper

 

peasant fare

on a winter’s night

a sample of, the simple

 

the log store

understands emptiness

and so replenishes

 

now for some fire

to make a meal

handsome out of it

 

the alchemist stirs

and out the cauldron

there is food!!

Serenity “haiku”

 

a heron stands

one leg in the reeds

he reaches for his oboe

 

a contented carp

blows bubbles

puckering his lips

 

a lotus unfolds

her petal wings

butterflies waft incense

 

a busy dragon-fly

is a rainbow

who caresses time

 

clear crystal ponds

reflect pure light

whiter than snow

 

a pendant drop

hangs from the gallows

of a moment

 

a ripple stretches

across a dewy pond

and yawns sleepily

 

a reed bends

in the harsh winds

which soon, too will pass

 

a moorhen dives

hungry for breakfast,

a croissant with butter

 

the spirit churns

all of the milk

to spread on toast

 

a hungry falcon

hovers in the wind

seeking a morsel

 

the rain falls heavy

the ducks rejoice

water off their backs

 

a Rōnin waits

for he has no master

else his heart

 

he sits seiza

and watches only walls

for there, is wisdom.

Dhyāna “Haiku”

primroses and daisies
wait the passing snow
and then smile

a Fletcher finds
for himself
the feathers in the Dao

silent peaceful roads,
bare hedgerows
six rooks sing in a tree!

a reed in the Dao
bends attentively
a heron looks East

I am a grain
I am nothing
and yet, I am a beginning.

ghosts whisper
their ancient stories
scaring the living

night in her slippers
sneaks along the lanes
getting closer

a candle sways softly
a forgotten tune,
it sheds a waxy tear

the naked willow
combs her hair
and considers

a gnarled old oak
staunch and dependable
waits table

finest
bluebell champagne,
no need of ice

tapestry spiders
busy
catching tears

walk on cornflakes
with toes
the Milky Way

each blade
on parade
shaving the dew

panther sun
resplendent
in cloudy whiskers

on vulture peak
I held
his flower

a collared dove
feels not a chain
and coos

unhurried twigs
the blackbird
gathers

a white feather
surfs the breeze
on its own

dragon’s breath
knits
patterns in silk

the holly wafts
scarlet berries
and coy blushes

pink shirts
the boardroom collars,
flamingos in a pond

a pile of washing
ready to hang,
waiting

how skinny
the end of day shadows
give them rice!!

wanting to be chaste
again
and again

hair in the plughole
piss on the floor
no more farting!

the knot of not
has you,
so very tired

more twinkling
a firmament
of eyes

dreaming
in a colander
spaghetti words

dawn chorus
a smoker coughs
expectant

behind the sofa
under the cushions
two-pound coins!!

cows sunbathe
sunglasses
and a bonnet

small blue eggs
at the bus stop
over easy

the rooster
flapping his wings
so profound

preening parrot
objects his cage
he will not leave

the fog embraces
dripping
with silence

the compass
of hush
in all the quarters

Arrow “Haiku”

in the cavern of time
water drips
and in No daylight

it argues with rock
and in a way it,
eventually wins

drop by drop
it points the way
out the subterranean

for water has no aim
and is not an archer,
two fingers at Agincourt

a Fletcher finds
for himself
the feathers in the Dao

he sees how they
are so zipped together
and he fingers them

and when the string
is so, so very taught
there is a release

but before that
the pretence and the tension
is but a game

in the cleft is written
a song unspoken
waiting for voices

shame would it be
if never hear
were they, to listen

in the cavern of time
water drips
in No daylight

The “Haiku” of Protection

ladybirds huddle
in the window frame
a testudo of spotty shields

in the church nave
a goat at a font
strokes his beard

on the tombstone
here lies hope
she died, being clever

two pennies for Charon
already over the eyes
old man smells of piss

the walking dead
are unaware
of their passing, still

a large gaudy bus
filled with sardines
each ego as big as next

teaching the already wise
harder than diamond
used to grind

an expert and a
Nirvani
which is the wiser?

at his desk, the actuary
counts the pennies
other side of the river

inflated balloons are
blown in the wind
the high voltage pylon, waits

at Sainsbury’s
a trolley full of folly
long checkout queue

which is the asylum
the seeker asks?
the fool nods wisely

a pride of mothers
4 by 4 heaven
they always know best

vinegar, salt, dried fish
and sulphur dioxide
preserves the truth

which is the asylum
the fool asks?
the seeker now nods wisely

April “Haiku”

with full Sakurai

my fresh carbon footprints

on a sparkle diamond dew!

***

the heavenly scent

freshly cut grass

invigorates nascent dawn

***

air traffic control

stacks the birds high

a sunflower breakfast

***

the pressure of leaves

waiting for birth

an incoming tide of green

***

tiny blue flowers

assemble on mass

one radiant carpet together

***

the orchard rejoices

the pendant spring

with its garlands of blossom

Zazen “Haiku”

a memory evening

forgotten in the sunset

burnishes copper kettles

holding linen gloves

performing léger de main

with destiny’s child

hidden pathways unwind

each nascent moment

ever pregnant pauses

judge and jury mind

hears not the birdsong

resenting coming dawns

a tear meanders lost

on a forsaken face

quenching desert lilies

sandcastle dreams ebb

and flow, with the

incoming tides of life

under the arch’s curve

fate shelters a while

as the earth drinks deep

raindrops softly caress

verdant carpets drawn

on canvas fields

watercolours paint margins

for the Soul to journey

a leather coracle in Dao

the profound silence of ponds

hears water boatmen

tickle trout with song

the wind plays flute

a chimney blows smoke rings

beech logs in the fire

cows chanting mantra in sheds

the prayer bell chimes

a farmer brings fresh hay

the kestrel hovers hungry

seeing beyond horizons

keen for future dreams

the woodcutter’s solitude

cuts axe blade sharp

through logs mundane

spiced wine warming

the veins of golden ore

pumped only by heart

the acrobat squirrel

crosses the swaying canyon

between century’s pylons

semaphore trees

waving long naked fingers

in winter’s winds

the point before mind

waits for the ripple of

a passing thought

stardust falls silent

for those who wait

no footprints in the snow

a match scratches a back

a hint of phosphorous

fire eases the itch of cold

moss on the trees

hiding from sunrays

growing only aeon’s beards

the wise old yews

cracking knuckles in the breeze

have watched millennia

the moorhens plink

pennies in a fountain

wishing for luck at dawn

a carrion crow plucks

a hearty breakfast

at the roadside café

omniscience counts

each Autumn leaf

the actuary of Souls

how does dharma teach

the fiery core of stars

only by feathers in the heart

what lies before now

only the present sleeping

waiting for the cockerel

what lies after now

only persistent dawns

irradiated with dew

what lies in the now

only forever born eternal

in the womb of moment

singing songs in the bath

no-one is watching

a child starts to walk

as naked as spring

a flower unfolds its flag

saying only welcome

the candle shimmers

beacons burn on the hills

eyes glisten with living love

an owl hoots in laughter

at man’s busy lives

pondering on their shadows

a spider’s web tense

sees the ants commute

yearning for love

soft down in chestnut shells

beyond fish hook barbs

cradles possibility

red holly berries

write in their font of hope

amidst the thorns

wide empty paths

leading to the cosmic causeway

where bamboo bridges flex

the Dao bends the reed

to fit the clarinet

and Gabriel’s oboe

Dao tunes pianos

in the darkness of night

a quintessence is born

a river carves Souls

whilst brooks chuckle softly

over the mossy rocks

mayflies tickle the eddies

willows bowing humble

under azure skies

scent carries fragrance

of lotus blossom

cherishing tender Sakurai

a single petal floats

wafted on pillow dreams

cotton wool soothes with a tincture

cutting carrots fine

a sliver of perfection

crisp and juicy with joy

sliced ginger pervades

more pungent than any dawn

a newborn deer forages

Spring “Haiku”

all the birds are flirting

some eyelash coy

others strutting Travolta

they celebrate sixteen

degrees of mercury

at last some warmth

the bursting roses

press out the forge

searching for stars

spring decorates cherries

with pinkest Sakurai

blooming in moonlight

tight hot-pants cyclists

give greetings

to garden gate smoker

he who peers far

into the fields

ever, as pensive as time

warm wine on tongue

sips only the sap

in the spring-ness

water in a font

now starts to bubble

joy sparkles in eye

stretching wings

in the sunshine

the yawns disappear

earth again fecund

irrepressible in becoming

what a bouquet!!

oh so welcome back

my beloved friend

the bounce of spring

footsteps now glide

across the stage

there to glisten

the world again

all sur-les-points

tiptoes forward