Haiku Master Basho

Matsuo Basho is the Japanese saint of Haiku. Of samurai heritage, he lived in the 17th century and had an enormous following. His complete works, consisting of 1011 haiku, have recently been collected and translated by Jane Reichhold and can be found in Basho The Complete Haiku (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2008).

It is my humble intention to also write 1011 haiku, one each day. I began in August 2009 and by my estimation, should finish in May 2012. Traditionally haiku was concerned with nature, but today our "nature" has changed. New technology has replaced the winds of nature as the force in our times. What was a rock is now a computer key. What was a cherry blossom is now a world wide web of information. What was light, is now the speed of light. Haiku is about finding an essence, thus these writings will seek to find the essence of our lives today.

A note for the reader: an important aspect of haiku is that the reader can put as much of herself/himself into the piece as the writer. If a haiku is good it will become your meaning not mine. Wish me luck! When the project is complete, if only one of the 1011 haiku approaches the skill and mastery of Basho, I will be satisfied.




Saturday, January 30, 2010

Nu Haiku 174

Seventeen degrees.
Ice on grass, white sky, no snow.
Dog's afraid of fire.

Nu Haiku 173

Opossum by back
door, plays dead. Gray hair on his
head like an old man.

Nu Haiku 172

Bonus Day. Banker
shakedown. Pay big taxes and
get out of jail free.

Nu Haiku 171

State of the Union.
People shake small change in their
empty coat pockets.

Nu Haiku 170

Dog runs through mud pond
in park. Doesn't care that it's
freezing. Owner shakes.

Nu Haiku 169

Fish heads boil in pot
with spine and tail. Stock of brain
and eyeballs ready.

Nu Haiku 168

Winter sky and the
furnace hums, on and off, in
time with season's pulse.

Nu Haiku 167

At the party A
loves the spring flowers, D the
stock, F the roses.

Nu Haiku 166

One hundred roses,
white and orange, make-up for a
lover's thoughtlessness.

Nu Haiku 165

Grumpy doctor turns
faceless as sour impatience
fills consulting room.

Nu Haiku 164

Winter park. People
gather close. One dog walker
dead. Jumped off a bridge.

Nu Haiku 163

There are some people
who just need a leader to
see the good within.

Nu Haiku 162

The little children
gather, so text for Haiti:
90999.

Nu Haiku 161

Those who have the least
live closest to the doors of
hell. Earth's back breaking.

Nu Haiku 160

Haiti crumbles. Heat,
concrete, and blood. Death has no
face in a dirt pit.

Nu Haiku 159

Line of fire-lights,
thirty-seven thousand feet.
Wound through cloud and fog.

Nu Haiku 158

Red-haired, synthetic
leopard-coated girl listens
to crazy music.

Nu Haiku 157

Laughing cousin, love
is peaking around corners
and looking for you.

Nu Haiku 156

Small town sister has
open smile that makes strangers
become friends. Deep heart.

Nu Haiku 155

In city between
the sea and mountains, seagulls
screech and eagles soar.

Nu Haiku 154

Old grannie's birthday.
Balloons, cake, candles, presents.
Her mouth sputters gems.

Nu Haiku 153

Girl loses tin ear-
ring in cinema. Strangers
join search. Littered floor.

Nu Haiku 152

Good captain and crew.
Water between two bridges.
The bobbing boats cross.

Nu Haiku 151

In between Granville
Street Bridge and Burrard Street Bridge
lights dance on water.

Nu Haiku 150

Security checks
gone wild. Honey closes an
airport. Sticky one.

Nu Haiku 149

We could choose to smile
at phone ringing in middle
of quiet yoga class.

Nu Haiku 148

Air travel torture.
Weather, waits, suitcases off-
loaded. Radar gone.

Nu Haiku 147

Good-bye to moon lamp
on sea, bright enough to make
shadows on the bluff.

Nu Haiku 146

Beige coral walls, black
wood furniture, ceiling fan,
lime planks. Wicker day.

Nu Haiku 145

Gracious New Year, start
of another decade, and
world is wide open.

Nu Haiku 144

Green gecko on chalk
coral walls of terrace stares.
Corner calls him in.

Nu Haiku 143

Tropical green tree
canopy, pink sand, azure
bay, deep blue sea rolls.

Nu Haiku 142

Old grandma who grew
up without phones knows how to
call distant cell phones.

Nu Haiku 141

Caribbean Sea
sends hot air currents high, plane
pitches in warm clouds.

Nu Haiku 140

Holiday wrapping
paper balled and stuffed in white
garbage bag by curb.

Nu Haiku 139

Last yellow leaf on
winter branch. Strength to hold on
while all others fall.

Nu Haiku 138

Cloud berries, thunder
snow, ice-storms. Wild abandon
gone. Constant struggle.

Nu Haiku 137

Christmas, this feast and
festival of colored lights.
Pagan history here.

Nu Haiku 136

White holiday lights
twinkle as we try to bring
the stars down to earth.

Nu Haiku 135

Limbs that are beggar
bones, plead for rest, cool bed, firm
pillow. To sleep now.

Nu Haiku 134

Tattooed masseuse plays
fingers across flesh searching
for tied-up muscles.

Nu Haiku 133

Snow banks along the
roadside hold the sadness of
suburbia in.

Nu Haiku 132

Winter blows her cold
breath. Out from frozen mouth comes
twisting ice crystals.

Nu Haiku 131

Another lucky
ladybug lands on my arm,
now, gently removed.

Nu Haiku 130

Frozen earth holds the
dead tight. Branch and leaf and soil
become one, contained.

Nu Haiku 129

Long Island Sound churns
up a ribbon of turquoise
bounded by brown hills.

Nu Haiku 128

Another being,
another universe, my
atoms lived there once.

Nu Haiku 127

Old woman. Coffee
shop, grey hair wet, red lipstick,
bad teeth, eyeliner.

Nu Haiku 126

Late at night only
the refrigerator speaks
to night's pock-marked face.

Nu Haiku 125

E-Mall. For spending
no circumambulation
required. Fingers walk.

Nu Haiku 124

Schizophrenic in
pink tights, orange bag, doesn't eat.
Coffee makes her sleep.

Nu Haiku 123

Friends walk behind high
mountains. Searching for passage
the deep gorge is blocked.

Nu Haiku 122

Blonde violinist
plays Eleanor Rigby, "...all
the lonely people..."

Nu Haiku 121

Sweet and sour noodles
slide down throat, ginger, chili,
lemon exploding.

Nu Haiku 120

Simon, Garfunkel
blared sounds of silence. Mayer
just waits on the world.

Nu Haiku 119

Eyelids become soft
when wounded by salt tears, wet
healers of the heart.

Nu Haiku 118

Restless hearts search for
something still unknown. Love lost.
Sparrow flies alone.

Nu Haiku 117

Sound of paper, like
leaves tumbling across water
surface, gingerly.

Nu Haiku 116

Kindle. Nook. Rook to
book, checkmate. Disappear now.
Trees smile in the woods.

Nu Haiku 115

Subjectivity
like mousetrap in a corner
sits waiting to snap.

Nu Haiku 114

Orange persimmon sinks
into itself, bitterness
gone. Sweetness on tongue.

Nu Haiku 113

Light through window shines
on Buddha head half hidden.
Hallway shadows shrink.

Nu Haiku 112

Blackberry thumb aches.
Tap, tap, fluid-filled, pain shoots.
Communication.

Nu Haiku 111

Ebay, pottery,
iridescent glazes hop
off the screen and shout.

Nu Haiku 110

Pumpkin pie, apple
pie, pecan pie, ice cream, cake.
Who's the turkey now?

Nu Haiku 109

Turkey gobble gob.
Wild birds camouflaged in brown
still run in wild woods.

Nu Haiku 108

Green chrysanthimum
sits like succulent, spongy
fingers in brown vase.

Nu Haiku 107

Grandmother's black shoes,
soft leather like the inside
of an arch purring.

Nu Haiku 106

Swimming through mud, stones
hit shoulder, branches slap chest,
feet search for bottom.

Nu Haiku 105

Black cat runs in front
of white car. Where is the bad
luck? Around corner?

Nu Haiku 104

Swine flu, bird flu, SARS.
Who's winning in this swill race?
Virus versus man.

Nu Haiku 103

Haiku holiday.
Where has the poet gone to?
Sunk in muddy pond.

Nu Haiku 102

Lady bugs turn black
as they die, decorating
their own funerals.

Nu Haiku 101

Blackberry propped on
buddha waiting to connect
to internet. Ping.

NU HAIKU !!!!! 100

One hundred haiku.
Less than one tenth of the way
to Basho's blossoms.

Nu Haiku 99

Expiration date
on soup can, date of your death,
single reminder.

Nu Haiku 98

Scent of snow. I long
for water airborne, for gown
of winter to fall.

Nu Haiku 97

Taxi driver. Grand
son has two teeth coming. Bites
Dad's hand. Brave boy grows.

Nu Haiku 96

One billion fifty
million Google hits for tweets.
Twitter "micro blog".

Nu Haiku 95

Yellow street light shines
through gold leaves, red taillights glow.
Azure evening sky.

Nu Haiku 94

Hunger. Pawing in
the belly, mauling back of
brain, opening mouth.

Nu Haiku 93

An elemental
rubicon. Where? What is it?
Point of no return.

Nu Haiku 92

Friend listens to friend
read twenty-four poems new to
world. Beyond duty.

Nu Haiku 91

Hippocampus map
reader. Use of GPS
creates atrophy.

Nu Haiku 90

Sound of snow whispers.
November and I can't hear
you yet, waiting here.

Nu Haiku 89

Orange leaf wet with dew.
By the time I bring it home
for you water's gone.

Nu Haiku 88

Office building, storm,
swallows travel fast toward plate
glass window. Swerve up.

Nu Haiku 87

Con men, white van, say
they have work order. Liars
drive slowly away.

Nu Haiku 86

Coyote, lush bronze
fur, come to eat my fat cat,
I bang pots, he stands.

Nu Haiku 85

500 trillion
synapses. Why then are we
so stupid sometimes?

Nu Haiku 84

Lady bug lands on
pocket, good-luck sign flicked off
with mindless finger.

Nu Haiku 83

Moon rises over
America, land barely
illuminated.

Nu Haiku 82

Folds of brain adding
more surface area, more
ideas. Deep wells.

Nu Haiku 81

Dead- Natalia
Estemirova. Shame on
Russia. Freedom dead.

Nu Haiku 80

Ice storm. No chance of
heated particles meeting.
Salt melts snow, bad taste.

Nu Haiku 79

Scowling woman can't
eat smile when smile meets her eyes.
Snake moves between stones.

Nu Haiku 78

Dow tops 10,000,
bell weather index smiling.
Stubborn mule he-haws.

Nu Haiku 77

Black ribbon highway
magnanimously wrapped in
autumn's flaming coat.