Stella Pierides

.
lovebirds -
coming through their vent
scent of jasmine rice

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: vent

NaHaiWriMo prompt: #21 umbrella
. 
silk umbrella
how this butterfly hovers
over your head
..

NaHaiWriMo prompt: #20 talus
.
gravity
a landslide settles into a scree
on her jowls
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt #19 sandals
.
hung out to dry
on the clothesline
Hermes’ winged sandals

.

skipping stones -
a walnut rattles
downhill

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: rattle

.

food queue biting its tail around the block

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: queue

.

fighting for space
in our childhood rockpools -
sea anemones

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: pool

.

near the stage
the illusion fades –
moth moon

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: opera

.

between folding
and unfolding -
a dove
.
bottle rockets, #26, February 2012

Red Boat

.

.

nightingale song –

life becomes

lighter

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: nachos/love (n)

.

almond blossom
my neighbor pounding cloth
all night

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: laundry

.

kitchen drama
the catfish jumps out
of the frying pan

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: kitchen

.

fruit jam
two apples roll
away

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: jam

.

ice house
storing her gall
for all seasons

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: ice

.

after the snow melt-
the snowman’s hat
a bit smaller

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: hat

.

longitude

east by degrees too numerous

to measure

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: grief

.

freeze frame-
the snowman at my door
speaks

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: frame

.

breakfast-

a hen gathers her chicks

under her wings

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: egg

.

cold snap -
a stray dog bares his teeth
at the wind

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: dog

.

waxing gibbous
this catfish stays
in the deepest pool

NaHaiWriMo prompt: catfish.

.

quay dawn
twelve cats waiting
for the fishing boat

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: boat

.

bare tree
in its core dreams
of apples

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: apple

Today is the beginning of the second year of NaHaiWriMo! I look forward to another year of writing one haiku (and more) a day! Gratitude to Michael Dylan Welch and all the people in the Fb Community for making it possible.

.

lime-scented
a gentle breeze blows through
syllables

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: nahaiwrimo (!)

.

white sails
her billowing
skirt

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: wind

.

chicks hatching
if only we knew
the time…

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: birth/death

.

spring rain –

a smile I cannot

forget

.

.

silent evening
I lift the cover off
the water butt

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: water

.

white rose –
a falling petal catches
the light

This poem is the result of two prompts:

1: NaHaiWriMo,  Annie Juhl’s  prompt: metaphor

2: Katherine Gallagher, writers’ workshop prompt: ‘one petal in a full-blown rose’

.

still swaying last year’s eucalyptus

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: one-line haiku

.

spring clean -
in the dragon’s gullet
moon dust

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: dragon

A Happy New Year of the Dragon!

.

dark moon
balanced finish of a wine
long forgotten

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: taste

.

shooting stars
all you need to know about
sciatica

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: pain

.

eating alone -
I measure the distance
to the moon

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: food/eating

.

song of the earth
a blackbird sings
the first notes

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: music/song

.

moist earth
a simple gadfly knows what’s best
for its eggs

.

Posted on FB site Joys of Japan

.

moon flower
I wrap my dreams
in furoshiki

.

What on earth is furoshiki? Please visit Gabi Greve’s Daruma Museum to find out! Wonderful patterns on the cotton cloth wrappers too. And don’t forget to scroll down the page to find my haiku.

(First shared on Fb group Joys of Japan wall)

.

guessing game -
from dusk to dawn
the sea darkens

.

In ‘a handful of stones‘ 12 January 2012

.

wintersweet -
shifting my weight
to the other foot

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: narrowing focus.

.

harvesting lies
a paper moon splits
open

.

Haiku Bandit Society, Moon Viewing Party, January 2012

.

before the rain -
the air fills with the scent
of rain

.

before the rain the scent of rain

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: scent/smell

.

salmon roe

he rubs his wife’s

pregnant belly

.

.

handiwork -
snowball by snowball
we receive winter

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: hands

1
daydream
frost flower
garden
2
foot mirage -
trickling water from the hot
water bottle
3
daydream
how time
flies!

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: daydreaming

time and time again
clocks render me
speechless

.

time piece
a kitten knows when it’s time
to eat

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: here and now (time)

1
long after you left
your warmth on the feather
cushion
2
after the rain –
a ball of fur on
the sunlit sill

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: fur/feather

.

at my door
singing out of tune
three kings

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: January first week

1
all the way
across three generations
Forget-me-nots
2
silver clouds -
on the second day
we argue
3
singing the alphabet
on the way home
good-luck cat
4
nature programme
my kitten searches for birds
behind the telly

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: family / friends

It is January and time for noticing, for paying attention to, well, whatever attracts our attention on a daily basis and writing a small poem, sentence, something about it – what is called a small stone. It is not difficult, believe me. The world calls to us all the time; in the words of Mary Oliver,

“The world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-“

From Wild Geese, Mary Oliver’s poem in Wikipedia

Let‘s not be deaf to it this year. Let’s start small, noticing one thing at a time, writing a small stone.

If you’d like to join in, take a look at the founding fathers, ooops, founding couple: Fiona and Kaspa’s site here  They explain everything… And you can even get a lovely badge from their site for your blog. I will be getting one soon myself…

 .

Oh yes, I almost forgot, here is the distillation of today’s noticing in the form of a haiku:

. 

first day

the rootedness

of everything

.

See also NaHaiWriMo prompt: New Year’s day/beginnings

.

one year older
I learn to notice blades
of grass

.

1
New Year‘s walk
pampas grass plumes
rustle
2
so  much is clear
this year too in my purse
the tides tables

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: New Year resolution/review

1

packing tackle
the fishing line teasing
the cats
.
Inspired by Jane Reichhold’s ‘frayed rope’
.
2
a shape no other
than the humble horseshoe
four-leaf clover
.
Based on Cherie Hunter Day’s ‘a skull no bigger‘

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: Influence (another poet/haiku) This is the prompt:

Write a haiku based on/influenced by another poet’s haiku. I know, I know, we are always under someone’s influence, but still! Anything goes, except ‘old pond’

If you are stuck for choice, have a look at the link below, the Haiku Foundation’s Montage Archive, where the work of haiku poets is juxtaposed in relation to a theme, for instance, The Little Truths  or any other comparative haiku piece. Or, pull on the ‘frayed rope’ here
See you there!

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against loss
sewn into the mattress
gold coins

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: gold/silver/coins

.

what might have been
but for frangipani blooms
December evening

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: taking stock

.

oiling

the wheel of fortune

horseshoe

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: oil

.

peace and joy -
on the Christmas tree
a red felt heart

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: Good-wishes-ku

Happy Christmas and a Merry, Healthy and Joyous New Year!

.

This haiga, using my haiku, was created by renowned haiga artist  Kuniharu Shimizu. Kuni-san is also priest of Tenrikyo, advisor to the  World Haiku Association, and judge of their haiga contests. I feel most honored that one of my snowman haiku was included in his current series of Snowman haiga.

The haiga is accompanied by a lovely commentary on his own blog, seehaikuhere. Click and see.

.

1
tree of life
a stray gene from
Andromeda
2
olive tree
as blessed as it is
humble

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: Tree

December 23 prompt: All about trees. From frankincense trees, to olive and fig trees, Eucalyptus, Jacaranda, cinnamon, Christmans trees, take your pick!
I saw this piece of news re frankincense tree

.

cosmic cushion –
pulling the darkness out
pin by pin
.
moment of stillness
just before the light changes
direction

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: solstice. The actual prompt ran like this:

Solstice (what else?), cosmic time, longest/shortest day, cosmic light… .
.
A haiku I love by Svetlana Marisova:
.
incoming tide …
the writing fills
both sides
..
More of her poems in the recently created page here (The link takes you to the Haiku Foundation page with several of Svetlana’s poems. Go and see!)

.

1
funicular inner monologue bursting out in laughter (ku-ku)
2
snow storm
all the pigeons become
doves
(cuckoo-ku)
.
My haiku plays with the misperception that pigeons are grey and doves white. I came across a site with pictures that corrected me (at least) for good: here

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt runs as follows:

December 21 Prompt: Let’s have some serious fun. Pick a genre from Michael’s essay „ku-ku: Because You Can’t Have Enough Haiku“ and write a haiku in that genre. Please indicate which one you’ve picked, eg chai-ku.
See here

.

count-down to solstice
two cormorants dry their wings
in the sun

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: numbers

.

sheltering
under your wings
fly

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: refuge

.

melting
the snowman on the patio
now kneels

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: knee

.

avalanche
the sound comes before
the fury

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: snow

.

winter forest work
a hairdresser clips
his bonsai

.

In Gabi Greve’s World Kigo Database, under Ikebana/Bonsai (scroll down)

(first appearance in FB page: Joys of Japan)

.

layer after layer
the same old stink -
onion

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt (by Yours, truly): onion (s)

.

wild winter roses
the impersonal color
in your cheeks

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt:  Haiku involving color

I’d like to share a haiku I read today on the Haiku Foundation site Archive (HaikuNow! winning poem, First Prize for 2011):

.
Indian summer
mother dyes her graying hair
the color of straw

.
—Tom Painting (USA)

For more winning Haiku and an excellent analysis see the Haiku Foundation Archive

.

pines along the shore
and the sea unfolding -
so cold this winter

.

I hope this poem conveys something of the difficult situation that Greece is facing…

.

Today’s NaHaiWriMo prompt (by Yours truly) as follows:

You are/were on holiday in Greece and this is how your haiku senses sing about /remember it…

By the way, you may know Shamrock, #17 had a Greek focus, with several haiku translated by its editor, Anatoly Kudryavitsky. You can find it here:

From the same issue, I copy a haiku by Giorgos Seferis, transl. Anatoly Kudryavitsky.

empty chairs
the statues returned
to another museum

.

.

winter gusts
again the broken window
rattles

.

I copy below today’s prompt for NaHaWriMo that I posted earlier on their FB site. It occurs to me that I should have collected the prompts as I posted them over there in this site too – it is so exciting and an honor to be doing this! Anyway, at least today’s:

December 13 prompt: Write a haiku that tells a story…

Issa:
.
mopping sweat–
at his tomb I tell my story
then go
.
Trans. David Lanoue. See more here

Also, if you have the time, you might like to have look here

Curious? Interested? Wondering about tomorrow’s prompt? See  here.

.

reading room
the soft tapping
of laptop keys

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: Book(s)/reading

.

for a clear head
malt, hops, yeast, and water -
old brewer’s trick

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: recipe-ku

.

moonlight -
below the Acropolis
a man sells drachmas

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: place names

.

dissecting her heart
they find the sea and the crater
of an old volcano

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: heart

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

..

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driving rain

through the porthole

sight of land

.

painting by Maria Pierides (www.mariapierides.co.uk)

haiku by Stella Pierides

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: weather/painting by Maria Pierides: Driving rain

.

one-breath poem
cut short
by a cough

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: breath/air

.

a branch of pine
broken in the storms
Christmas tree

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: gift

.

lighthouse -
on the way we observe
the inner light

.

false log beams
I wonder who is holding up
the ceiling

.

NaHaiWriMo prompts (by Stella Pierides, by the way!) lighthouse/beam

.

suckling
at the mouth of the river
ocean

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: tongue, mouth

.

advent wreath –
wax spreading on the table
counts down the days

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: garland or wreath

.

slow stream

a heron stretches his beak

towards the sky

.

soft rain

how benevolence

works

.

I am very pleased that these two haiku were included in the inaugural issue of A Hundred Gourds, alongside contributions by many fine poets. A Hundred Gourds is a new international journal for haiku, haibun, haiga and more, edited by Lorin Ford and a team of distinguished poets. Congratulations to everyone on the team, and many happy returns!

.

weaver’s hut –
by the loom a goat chews off
threads

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: carpet

.

homesick -
a tree bends
towards the light

.

NaHaiWriMo November 2011 prompt: a photo prompt by Carlos Colon, also known as Haiku Elvis. You can find him on Facebook here and on twitter here.

.

soft afternoon light -
from behind open curtains
purr of a kitten

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: a 5-7-5 haiku

.

dance studio -
learning to ignore
wrong moves

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: dance

.

crisp
autumn
leaves
musical
chairs

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: write a five-word haiku in five lines

.

in synchrony -
only now her silver thimble
fits my finger

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: heirloom/antique tool

.

ten-week-old kitten
how the world calls out
to you!

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: relationships

.

breaking bread
the sound of glass clinking
against glass

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: thanksgiving

.

grilled sardines
beyond the pines
whispering sea

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: holiday food

.

knowing how we fail
I keep my eye on the ball
pilgrims

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: ball games

.

off the isle of Skye -
two whales break
the surface

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: joyous event

.

kindness -
collecting the acer
from the grass

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: weekend activity

.

once again
she inverts the hourglass –
Cinderella

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: deadlines

.

late grapes –
birds making a meal
of the vine

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: feeding birds

.

moving house –
my mother’s tea plates clink
inside the box
.

(I am finally moving house tomorrow! I did wrap those plates in extra paper!)

.

siesta
my sister and I peep through
half-closed shutters

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: childhood memory.

.

lunch
a fishbone swims down
my throat

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: bad luck

.

running along
the rim of the crater –
old soldier

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: veterans

.

weeping meadow -
every time love loses
its dream
.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: scene from a movie

.
Inspired by Theo Angelopoulos’ film The Weeping Meadow (watch the trailer)

.

volcanic ash -
the taste of the market
fallout

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: natural disasters

.

Mars swallows –
we beam them down
for winter

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: scifi ku

.

dark moon–
at the foot of the Parthenon
last throw of the dice

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: gambling

.

flowering–

on your face the ghost

of a smile

.

@CuentoMag #165, 5 November 2011

.

changing gear –
instead of inscribing
I tweet

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: social media

.

Rosetta Stone -
a life
in three languages

.

(Why is this not a senryu? It is, too!)

NaHaiWriMo prompt: ancient Egypt

.

cactus needle –
loneliness turned
inside out

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: tactile

.

under the red maple
red maple –
autumn’s harvest

.

NaHaiWriMo prompt: autumn foliage

.

ant lines -
weaving a pine needle
necklace

.

NaHaiWriMo extension; prompts this month by Carlos Colon: sweet indulgence

.

.

no-go area –
her recipe-book
on the top shelf

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: secret

.

on her tombstone dove
two snails
mating

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: cemetery

.

telegraph wires –
swallows too are waiting
for your news

.

Nahaiwrimo extension 2011; prompt: migrating birds

.

charred blankets -
the doll
still smouldering

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: consequences of war

.

chill wind -
remembering
the things I forget

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: frightening

.

winter’s beginning –
last year’s coat
two sizes larger

.

Or,

winter’s beginning –
last year’s coat
two sizes too big

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: beginning

.

when you blush -
the faintest shade of pink
above the horizon

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: dawn

.

squall –
learning to blow
against the wind

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: windstorm

.

as if the word for peace were war cloudy skies

.

cloudy lens –
looking without
seeing

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: peace

.

curling
against your warmth
ebb tide

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: place of peace

.

perfume wars -
her statement still lingers
in my study

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: scent

.

gut feeling –
blinking
the third eye

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: belly

.

nightfall -
losing the certainty
of youth

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: dusk

Two one-line haiku

.

the unrelenting waves under your pillow

.

portentous below the belt oracles

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: one-line haiku

.

hairline -
wading on the riverbank
terns

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: baldness

.

never too late -
listening to the silence
of the moon

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: late/too late

.

such innocence
the soft curve
of your lip

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: innocence

.

last kiss
i unplug
the telephone

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: kiss

.

rose-tinted clouds
in Broadstairs -
marshmallows

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

.

missing you -
on the ocean floor
conch shells

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: telephone.

.

on this spot
the sun has been –
moonshine

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: loss

.

balance -
perched on a wire a dove
and a crow

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt Pris Campbell: beauty

.

out of Ithaca –
a poem about
life

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: journey

.

moving house –
a snail and the same old
me

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: home

.

bamboo screen -
not a single
butterfly

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: butterflies

.

gnarled olive
the tenderness of human
love

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: courtship etc

.

coming home -
the garden has forgotten
my hand

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: sabi

.

sunrise -
the singular beauty
of a rose petal

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011. New prompter, Pris Campbell, prompt: awe

.

crocus-
cutting your first
tooth

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: beginnings

.

making ends meet –
I sew an extra button
on my waistband

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: ends

.

harvest festival
the last apples before
the Fall

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: celebration.

.
.
.
.
harvest -
so much food for
the soul
.
.
.
.
.

.

.

.

.
.
NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: harvest.
September challenge 19 Planets.

.

autumn circus -
keeping all her juggling-balls
in the air

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011; prompt: circus

.

so many bees
on the Autumn Joy…
Octoberfest
.
Autumn Joy = one of the sedum family (flower)

Oktoberfest: oh well…

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011, prompt: autumn flowers.

.

.

city life -

inside the belly

of the whale

.

Matchless Magazine 18 September 2011

….

.

.

.
setting sun -
I too let go of
attachments
.
.
.#.

Thinking about this haiku, hm, it seems better without the ‘my’. I’ve made the change in the haiku, but not in the haiga.

photo: Hermann Mueller; haiku: Stella Pierides.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011 prompt: sunset

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September challenge (almost there!)

.
.
.
.
.
growing up -
I learn to live
with the tides
.
.
.
.
.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011, prompt: beach.
Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September challenge.

.

.

.

your patience -
the way a river
cuts through rock

.

NahaiWriMo extension 2011. Prompter: Johnny Baranski, prompt: river(s).

.

what I know
each lake has its own
full moon

.

This haiku was written in response to a prompt for  a haiga using Margaret Rosenberg’s artwork. You can see the whole artworld + haiku (haiga) in here

.

through the fog -
mountains of orange
pumpkins

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: mountains

.

summer -
this bee
gets lost again

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: Haynaku

.

in this asphalt jungle
money grows on trees -
blood moon

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: prompt ‘asphalt jungle’

.

lucky charm -
on the crest of the wave
sound bubbles

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: luck

.

blood moon

how the light changes

direction

.

NaHaiWriMo extension 2011, prompt: moon viewing.

,

.

.

.

.

.

.

laying nets they beat
olives from the trees
merciful moon

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

this old city

a river runs through

its heart

 .

Taking part in Rick Dadario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days … .

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

..
..

..

.
angel
meeting the endless
light
.

.

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
……

.

.

.

.

.

.
.
.
.
.
.

.

….

.

.

.

.

.

..

.

.
blue moon
which came first the fall
or the apple?
.
(Leaving Ammersee)

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

.

waiting for the tide -
fishing boats line
the harbour

…

I was thinking of Wells-next-the-Sea, but please feel free to supply your own harbour …

NaHaiWriMo: vacation memories

.
school days -
counting sparrows
in the yard
.
NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: school days

.

waiting
for the fish to be caught
frying pan
.

The artwork in this haiga was originally a photograph taken by Hermann Mueller in Diessen am Ammersee, a small town on the shores of the lake. Diessen is famous for its Baroque gem of a Church, its community of artists and craftsmen, its yearly world-famous ceramic market, and its fish. Fish nurseries have been flourishing for a number of years here. The couple in the picture is a wood-carved sculpture on the lane leading to the lake promenade (I hope to find out the name of the artist or at least the owner of the sculpture and will be posting it here).

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Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …
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apple orchard –
on the picnic blanket
spilt wine
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NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: picnic.

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plain sailing?
once again we run into
trouble

NaHaiWriMo: games. Leaving Ammersee.

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

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between us

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between us -

this sunset is also

a sunrise

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NaHaiWriMo prompt: sunrise

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

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….

NaHaiWriMo prompt: weekend. Lake Ammersee.

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

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Having lived by the lake Ammersee for ten years, we are now moving further inland. These photos with haiku/haiku within a photo (haiga) are our way of capturing our last autumn walks by the lake.

(I will be posting them on Flickr too, set: ‘leaving Ammersee.’)

Inspiration also through NaHaiWriMo extension prompt: weekend.

Taking part in Rick Daddario’s 19 Planets September Challenge: A Haiga a day, or every few days …

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September drizzle -
on my wall calendar
the page for August

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NaHaiWriMo extension 2011/prompt: calendar

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leaving a trail
of crumbs for the way back
history lesson

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Prompt: photo of wine cellar, NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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shower of sparks
last year‘s pine cones
giving up the ghost

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Prompt: campfire. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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just because
the sky is navigable –
thistledown

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Prompt: just because. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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baring his teeth
the hobbling dog –
harpsichord

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This month’s prompter, Terri Hale  French, suggested we use a randomly generated haiku by the haiku generator (a JavaScript Haiku application) to work on our own haiku. I did. The result is the haiku above. You can see the original, software generated haiku below:
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harpsichord sickens
dense snowstorms hobbling dogs
wailing, formless

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car boot sale -
on schoolyard tables
grown-up divorce

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Prompt: second hand. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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Aegean heat -

in the animal shelter

an eery silence

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Prompt: natural disasters. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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a goldfinch
lines her nest
thistledown

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Prompt: Photo of thistle with cicadas. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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wireless
the quiet certainty of
old love

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NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: radio

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flying saucer
the wind carries away
my hat

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NaHaiWriMo extension 2011: flying

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star gazing
I leave my shadow
behind

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NaHaiWriMo extension 2011. Prompt: bad haiku (so, how can I write a good haiku without my shadow?)

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this moussaka
I taste the tomatoes
still ripening

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NaHaiWriMo:humour.

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flea market
in this light her pearls look
false

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Prompt: garage sale, NaHaiWriMo extension 2011

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wallflower—
slowly getting to know
your sense of humor

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Prompt: walls, NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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full moon—
a meteor flies past
incognito

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Prompt: space. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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fireflies–
reflected in her eyes
my childhood

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Prompt: daughters. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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this heart urchin shell half-buried in the sandbed

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Prompt: Write a one line haiku.

Terri Hale French, this month’s prompter for NaHaiWriMo extension 2011, suggested an article from Simply Haiku, to help us orient ourselves. Really helpful article, by William Higginson, can be read here.

For images of heart urchins click here. Pages and pages of them…

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on my doorstep–
this old city in flames
licking its wounds

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Well, even though I am not in London at present, as I live there for part of the year… a ku from my watching the news.

Prompt: front porch. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011

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frayed at the edges
this sunflower had too much
sun

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Prompt: sunflower. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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pale moon—
sugar crystals travelling
south

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Prompt: tired/sleep. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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Hot dog
when hunger gets the better
of me

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Prompt: dog. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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ruby wine—
the song of a canary
on my tongue

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Prompt: beverage. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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ebb and tide—
our holiday against
the horizon

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Prompt: driftwood haiga. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011. Written for photo by Terry Hale French.

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life’s journey
I count the years
in my neck

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Prompt: journey. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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beach combing–
amongst pebbles a muddy
Drachma

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Prompt: coins. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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corn silk—
still searching for the face
under all this hair

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Prompt: child/childhood. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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letters
learning the abc
of thanking you

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Prompt: gratitude. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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mockingbird
still I kept the Athenian
accent

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Mockingbird: Mimus polyglottos!

You can hear this amazing bird mimic other birds, squeaky gates, machines etc here

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olive press—
how else do you write your
haiku?

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Prompt: trees. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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spring morning–
bluebird, is that my hair
in your nest?

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Prompt: birds. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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cat nap–
on my desk the mouse still
on the mouse mat

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Prompt: cat NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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spring ephemerals—
now my roots need colour
often

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Prompt: spring ephemerals. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

Haystacks, Kochelsee

two haystacks--
in the fields the same
old story

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Prompt: New Year. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

Haiku by Stella Pierides, Photo by Hermann Mueller.

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waiting for the peach
I miss the blue of the sky—
summer harvest

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Prompt: soft fruit. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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vernal pool—
they trend on Twitter all
morning

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Prompt: pool, puddle. NahaiWriMo extension 2011.

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Aegean moon—
still hot the pebble shifts with
the tide

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Prompt: moon. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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wild goose chase—
even the duvet tries
to fly south

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Prompt: quilt. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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gale force winds—
I steer my desk through a dark
ink swell

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Prompt: wind/stillness. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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pins and needles—
sparkling stars
in my finger tips

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Prompt: stars. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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crisp snow—
I dream of a hunted
deer

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Prompt: Snow. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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shadow line
reaching across I catch
a crab

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Prompt: shadow. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

Murnau moor

..

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sea of green–

even my trike

warms to it

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Prompt: sea/seaside. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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word-smith—
on the anvil a haiku
slowly takes shape

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Prompt: haiku, writing, word. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

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Cretan knife—
picking wild mushrooms she pricks
her finger

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Prompt: indigenous/groups. NaHaiWriMo extension 2011.

Kaspa & Fiona have taken over my blog for today, because they need our help.

For their fantasy wedding present, they are asking people across the world to write them a ‘small stone’ and post it on their blogs or on Facebook or Twitter.

A small stone is a short piece of observational writing – simply pay attention to something properly and then write it down. Find out more about small stones here.

Whether or not you have a blog,  write them a small stone on their wedding day whilst they are saying their vows and eating cake, post it on your blog, and send it to them.

You can find out more about their project at their website, Wedding Small Stones, and you can also read their blog at A River of Stones.

They also have a July challenge coming soon, when they’ll be challenging you to notice one thing every day during July and write it down.

They thank you for listening, and hope they’ll be returning from their honeymoon to an inbox crammed with small stones, including yours.

So do it! Please…

The River of Stones project, organized by Fiona Robyn and Kaspalita, has now come to an end. In January, for a whole month, people from all over the world wrote a ‘stone,’ a polished thought/moment of experience. I wrote and posted mine in this blog, on my twitter stream and on my separate tumblr blog Stella’s Stones. Now that January (2011) is over, you can find more of my very short work in Stella’s Stones: on the right hand side of the front page, just below my twitter feed. A big thank you to Fiona and Kaspalita!

February (2011) is also a special month. Michael Dylan Welch of Graceguts organizes the NaHaiWriMo challenging haiku poets and others to write a haiku a day for the month of February. Can you do it? Can I do it? I will certainly try. You can follow my haiku progress in Stella’s Stones.

For well-writen essays on Haiku and other genres click  Graceguts

reaching for the sky

the Shard of Glass,

mast on a proud city

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This post can also be seen in Stella’s Stones here

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Pink-footed geese circling the fields,

 dot the golden sky

fill the air with their harsh calls

for home.

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This post can also be found in Stella’s Stones here

Sometimes, like today, with a chilly wind spraying drizzle over grey London, I feel that this city needs the Aegean to be closer.

This post is also in Stella’s Stones here 

Silence has lost its shape today.

A single carnation bursts into song.

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This post is also in Stella’s Stones here

poem–

the old soup bowl

filled with cream

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The moon is kind tonight, bathing the room in milk.

A breeze rustles the Eucalyptus and I realize I daydream.

.

This post can also be found in Stella’s Stones here

Picking fishnet tights, a shoe, and a pair of torn jeans, the wordsmith assembles her poem; plenty of time in her workshop.

This post can also be found in Stella’s Stones here

Night

Night

 As darkness falls over the Thames,

a liquid haze swims in from the sea

and the city steels its heart for the night.

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This post can be found in Stella’s Stones  here

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Flint

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flint: / wall or church / rise from the sea

…

See also in Stella’s Stones here

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London:

creeping fog on the Thames

reaches for my hair

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This post can be found here

In sun-bleached deserts, in mountain caves, on sea-sculpted rocks

the hermit slept, forgetting that the essence of being can be found in a single drop of rain.

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This post is also in Stella’s Stones

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When I started learning to crochet I thought of it as a relaxing, stress-reducing act, like counting the amber beads of a komboloi.

Now, looking at my hand holding the crochet hook, the wool, at the next stitch to pick up, the stitches I travelled and the one I have to travel to next, I think it is more than that. It is a process like meditation, without however the religious connotations and significance often associated with it: like counting prayer beads, but without the religion.

I was interested to see that, according to Wikipedia, there are two ways of counting the komboloi beads: “a quiet method, for indoors, and a noisier method that is acceptable in public places.” While crochet is quiet, knitting with two needles is not! I wonder whether there is a way(s) of knitting indoors that keeps the noise down!

http://stellasstones.tumblr.com/

blackbirds

pecking red rowan berries  

sing to themselves

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Read about the Rowans here. In the Wikipedia Rowan entry, mythology and folklore section: “It was said in England that this was the tree on which the Devil hanged his mother.”

This post can also be found here

By the river Lea and Hooks Marsh.

Swans

Yesterday’s photographs, today.  What is left of the walk, of the slow river Lea, of the smiling sun, of the day?

(Tapping on the computer all day today!)

See also Stella’s Stones here and  here

Hooks Marsh

And Aeolus, the god of winds, gave Alcyone seven days of warm weather to lay her eggs.

Halcyon Days in Hooks Marsh, Lea Valley, in the outskirts of North London.

This post also appears here

beached tree

Metamorphosing

Lying on its side, landlocked, this tree trunk dreams of being a frog, a fish, an alligator, a whale.

(In Trent Park, North London, in January 2011. For more pictures of Trent Park see here)

This post can also be found here

As darkness falls over London,

the thick, grey curtain of rain

that drowned the city relents,

leaving behind shimmering haloes

of street lights — the night’s rainbow.

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This post can also be found here

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waking up:

waves of traffic roll into

daylight

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This post appears here

cold wind sweeps the street, deposits leaves, sweet wrappers, a juice carton, and a chocolate box on my doorstep.

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 This post appears also here

dark morning –

Vivaldi pours into

waves of sleep

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This post can also be found here

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the eucalyptus

swishes and sways

singing in tune

with the wind

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This post can also be found here.

Spiritual Stones

behind the stonework

a spiritual space filled with

calm and stillness

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Isn’t this exactly what we are trying to achieve with our stones?

Photo:  St. Nicholas Church, Blakeney, North Norfolk.

This post can be found on Stella’s Stones

For more pictures of the area see here

Happy New Year’s Day!

Remember though …

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a river flows

into a new year

every day

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In a sense this micropoem plays on the theme of Heraclitus‘ Fragment 41:  ”You cannot step twice into the same river”

Δεν γίνεται να μπει κανείς στο ίδιο νερό του ποταμού που κυλάει δύο φορές.

From today on, though, I, along with others, will be entering the river of stones every single day for a month.

For Heraclitus the appearance of stability is an illusion, ”for as you are stepping in [the river], other waters are ever flowing on to you.”  However, consider the possibility of re-entering the river of stones: on the one hand, the river consists of the flowing moments of experience as represented by stones; on the other hand, each time we polish and share a stone, we ourselves change, grow through our attending to and encapsulating the moment of experience.

Happy New Year 2011!

This post also appears here

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old friend

the bus driver turning to look

at the lights

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See also Stella’s Stones

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whistling their own tunes

icy winds invade the city

clear the streets

rattle my door

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A lone raven

lone raven in Finsbury Park

symbolizing life and death

in one

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What is the link between the raven and the Solstice?

For more of my pictures of Finsbury Park in snow see my Scrapbook  here

Ammersee

The lake Ammersee puts in a pre-Christmas snow show; steam included!

In the foothills of the lower Alpine Mountains, the Ammersee, one of several glacial lakes, is a real jewel in all seasons — and a place to collect “stones.”

More pictures here

See also here

What is NaSmaStoMo?

A new and exciting “international project to encourage people to engage with the world through writing a short observational piece every day during January.” The project was created by Fiona Robyn of Planting Words and A River of Stones.

This is what is called a ‘challenge,’ and it is one for both writers and ‘non-writers.’

Why?

“Because choosing something to write about every day will help you to connect with yourselves, with others, and with the world. It will help you to love everything you see – the light and the dark, the happy and the sad, the beautiful and the ugly,” Fiona writes.

This idea reminds me of the concept of ‘mindfulness’ in Buddhist meditation and its attention to the present moment. It also brings to mind Haiku, capturing a moment of insightful openness to the world by an individual human being. A haiku moment from a mindful being. I have recently become fascinated by this aspect, as well as other possibilities, of haiku and have been trying my hand at it. (For Zen and the Haiku moment see here )

In this sense, writing down our observation of a moment of stillness in our daily lives, wherever we are, is an act of meditative awareness, of fully inhabiting our selves in the present and creating a mark, a polished stone.

I am going to be writing my daily stones, and collecting them in my ‘A Stream of Stones’ in this website and elsewhere.

For more information on the A River of Stones project, please see here

Why not join the fun and the mindfulness yourself?

Sharpen your pen, polish your keyboard, cream your hands, and then, stop, look and listen!

15 December 2010