haiku blog: 2017

Tuesday 12 December 2017

I poke the moon

with a stick

in the pond

Monday 11 December 2017

My mind

reminds me to sleep

my eyes ignore

lingering scent

of the night brings me

to sleep

Lighted bright

the night pretends

like a day

homecoming

my impatient shadow

reaches before me

the stars blink

when the moon kisses

the cloud

Despite the lamppost

The street longs for

presence of moonlight

that night when

tadpoles dance away

old frog’s final night

Near to the end

the old frog longs for

the tadpoles

Little red

Embrace the rain

fearless

I let go of

wind in my tummy

With last night rain

I arrange

A sound proof room for

a farting friend

night falls

heads on the pillow

ideas float

I make a frog

into a

haiku

frog haiku

my thoughts

Leap

eyes, half open

I replied your

messages

my pet frog 🐸

finishes its book today

in my pocket

after drowning

in the wine glass

the frog burps !

how shitty

my butt stuck at

the toilet bowl

haiku stream

choked up with

rubbish

a skylark

bathes in a puddle

naked

Saturday 28 October 2017

a rose
between the pages
a story untold

Shanghai

blurry like a

daydream

memories, like

drawings on the beach

carried away by waves of age

with happy bubbles

beer shows its happiness

on the surface

Thursday 19 October 2017

hands lifting weights
legs cycling and running
a busy gym

an evening
cloud show
with magic colours

Sunday 15 October 2017

when talk is cheap

I put my effort

In my doing

to be in harmony

my body is bribed with

food and sleep

chores of life

may I be excused

to follow my dreams

to catch
the flying time
I wear a watch

Saturday 7 October 2017

dear fog

I cannot see

the road ahead

Friday 15 September 2017

missing

the sips of haiku

in a glass of Gin

Gin or beer

not making up my mind

I stand at the bar

to warm my heart

I think of

brandy on the rock

sipping Gin

composed a haiku of

the smell of a drunkard

Monday 11 September 2017

left alone, two of us

followed the bird couple

heralds of the mountain

climbing Mount Kinabalu

I think of Basho

and cherry blossoms

up to the summit

today I hope to see stars

before the sun rises

from the summit

waterfall finds its way

down the alleys

covered up

under the wings

little moth sleeps

mountain flowers

shy away and hide

under the leaves

heavier steps

soaked in the cold rain

icy cold feet

Sunday 10 September 2017

Little skylark

welcomes us to

Mount Kinabalu

Tuesday 5 September 2017

tanka 1

keep in contact always

sharing moments of travel

streams of our words

in private virtuality

our friendship has begun

Thursday 31 August 2017

Ranka with Roger Watson

thoughts

like marbles under my pillow

steal my sleep

though blinded by stars

the gift of sleep comes

winter nights

even the lice on my cat

are awake

yet shooting stars streak

across the summer sky

my forehead

sparks with sweat

in summer nights

the chill wind blowing outside

rattles the icicles on my window

Saturday 26 August 2017

1. Stupas in Bagan
reflect their history
in silence.

2. a kind sunbeam
lets tear drops on her face
spark fearlessly.

3. among busy cars
children beg for money
on the road of Burma

4. Yangon
is painted red by
betal-nuts-eaters

5. the true face
of the clown is hidden
under his grin.

Saturday 19 August 2017

a tiny puddle

with pride,reflects the sky

while it lasts.

a strong wind

makes dead leaves alive

as it lives.

The grass

shares its morning dew

on my feet.

a cloud

shelters the mountain

atop.

Kite in the sky

the string in my hands

holds its fate.

the chimes gurgles

with the breeze

spit into the wind.

last night rain

like a talkative wife

disturbed my sleep.

the sun is up

my shadow

lies flat.

a busy bee

buzzing on for food

annoys my ears.

dusky skies

fireflies dancing

frogs croak.

Mustaches on his chin

move up and down

as he talks.

stupas in Bagan

reflecting their history

in silence.

waves giggles

at dizzy ships

barely moving.

flute whistles

at the old man's mouth

seagulls dance.

Alas! a vine

acting like a snake

stopped my running.

The grass shares

Its morning dew

on my feet.

madly

falling for silence

I am aged.

silence is gold

when everything is

in harmony.

celebrating

the silence

I make no sound.

the poet

celebrates little things

like a child.

my companion

the sound of my breath

in and out.

silence amplifies

the sound of dew drops

the loudest at night.

silent nights

her teeth grinding

I wish to be deaf.

like mirrors

his haikus reflect

upon himself.

basho

writes haikus

in my brain.

Monday 19 June 2017

with waving branches
The tree whispers to the wind
Good morning, darling.

Forgiving steps and shit
The grass still feeds the bird
With arms open.

with fading color
My shoes wait faithfully
For our next run.

Sitting face to face
Television is too shy
sofa waits and waits.

sky-touching buildings
start to sing a lively song
welcoming the sun.

feet grounded
the buildings stand in silence
for the sky has a black mood.

embracing dead leaves
the pavement whispers
may you rest in peace.

toilet bowl giggles
When urine drips into it
signaling the drain.