Tag Archives: haiku

Winter Haiku Strings

Tis the blog’s tenth anniversary and since we start in the dawn of the year, I would like to offer you a string of seasonal haiku penned within these past few years.

First light –
Two hooded crows
found breakfast at Fladdabister.
#haiku fae #60N #geopoetics

The edge –
samurai’s sword,
dawn redefined the horizon.
#haiku fae #60N #geopoetics

Crisp –
icicles clad every pavement,
Bressay bathes in pink & blue.
#haiku fae #60N #geooetics

Kirk –
an austere house biggit by man
to park their folk into one faith.
#haiku fae #60N

Happiness –
as magical as Geminids,
furtive shooting stars in winter.
#haiku fae #60N

Imbolc –
from indigo dawn to snowflakes,
Brigid’s spirit rises from ice.
#haiku fae #60N #geopoetics

Look at
our planet as a peach –
that wee layer right at the top
is where we walk…
#geopoetics fae #60N

——————

Ice Age

in absence of your human warmth,
I feel heart from wandering
wolf that
trudges through
silent snowflakes, still
framed icicles from a sky,
once forgotten
as they
touch down.
I
without
one
never makes 2.
Will be looking for
long shadows, howling echoes
around Yule, since I ran
away from the
pack.

Sandwick, 8 Dec 2013
—————————-

60N Yule

When sky awakes,
smell green of pine, cinnamon night,
Yule has its ghouls,
gales and gold
gifts.
#micropoetry fae #60N

———— Lerwick, 16 Dec 2013

Mother Night –
dreamer of
light,
clad inside lace,
whatever crescent of the moon.

-//————————– 20 Dec 2013

Upside down world –
icicles inside Everglades,
power from the polar vortex.
#haiku #geopoetics fae #60N

Arctic vortex –
Stalactites downtown
Manhattan,
the latest trend in media world.
#geopoetics fae #60N

Polar vortex –
16 km up in air,
where jet streams yield to 60N
#geopoetics fae #60N

—————–/————- 8 Jan 2014

WonderWorld

Who wants a world filled with silence and
empty
chairs, where
shadows hang coats on
slate roofs, and bold
divas sing to
slugs,
snails and
sniggering starlings on
starved snow?

Don’t tell me twice,

winter wanders like a brother
without socks, shoes or
wooly hat.
He’s
just aware of
my glowing green
solitude you too can glean on
every blade in a garden
left to wild gales.

——-///———–

Come to
Mareel when all is dark;
its gentle light
shines
through the surface of raindrops,
slides against panes of
icy glass,
as
music
feeds high moon and
tide – as she keeps
her voice in
a jar…
Cette
conversation de
l’absurde.

——————————- 8 Jan 2014

Winterlight 60N –
in between first light & pale blue,
fire Phoenix above Mousa.
#haiku fae #60N #geopoetics

—-11 Jan 2014

Bressay sprinkled with icicles,
blackbird hides –
a little closer to Norway.

— 17 Nov 2016

With seasonal greetings fae Nordicblackbird at 60N.


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talisman 

   They say Gertrude has fingernails ready to slash through waves & land…
Whatever the colour of warning, putting a name onto a storm personifies eyes from the sky.

  
I don’t particularly like purple in such context. A storm’s coming.

For the first time, have dressed my neck with an ancient binding rune from the viking world. The one that’s said to fulfil your wishes. It has its place between Wunjo & my angel. I hope it will bring good fortune.

Meantime, 

a haiku de rigueur, as my dreams jigging with gale gusts.

Veillée d’armes. 

Every storm has its own paraphernalia of bullets… Tonight, the sky turned a sniper.

  

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Filed under 2016, 60N, Arcania, blogging, earth, geopoetics, haiku, images, life, north, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, snow, spirit, verse poetry, winter

full

  
I can only imagine it, as clouds forbid me from such sight.

So, in a haiku,

wolf moon – 

there, in the claws of January,

           blackbird preens at the moon. 

#haiku fae #60N

#geopoetics 

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Filed under 2016, Arcania, geopoetics, haiku, home, poetry, shetland, shore, spirit, verse, winter

mathematica-poetica

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Who said mathematics was void of poetics?
I dedicate this triptych to Mademoiselle Wuscher, my most human teacher of maths, back in Pertuis, Provence (1983-84) – as well as my peerie African sister, who embraced them as poetry 🙂
Thales & Pythagoras deciphered the mystics with flair.

Here, as shared with both the Westside Writers & then my peerie sister from the heart , as well as in anticipation to tomorrow’s Higher Mathematics’ exam for all pupils: (as inspired from a recent Prelim)

dreamer

blue morning light on
Bressay Sound,
cheery starlings chuckle
in style,
pupil’s
eyebrows
wrestle with pi,
between questions,
rippled silence –
eyes wander
through
parallel worlds:
wired cherry trees for Japan,
leaning giraffe,
shelved
boomerang,
red Australia…
through sashed
window,
my
Nordic
world –
Leirna’s
constant
criss-crossing
game
through
stretch of
blue dividing isles,
rolling backbones on green
hillsides, where stones
shelter wrens
from gales,
storms;
as
time
holds your
heart with two hands,
I’ll frame Friday through that window.
In true spirit,
Je suis l’enfant de Claude Roy,
celui qui battait la
campagne.

Note:
Claude Roy: French poet & essayist (1915-1997)

———————– 18/4/2014

Prelim –
algebraic world from
deeper space,
stikkit mist,
nebulae –
so many sighs in a cold room.
#micropoetry #geopoetics fae #60N

——-

Mathematica –
too many letters,
squared or
hugged
inside
parentheses,
let loose around
numbers…
x + 3
a factor of cubic expression.
#micropoetry

With renewed thanks to Shetland Times‘ Columnist Doug Forrest for the kind words below:

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