Haiku
blackened cabbages
like babies heads beheaded
no food for winter
Haiku
blackened cabbages
like babies heads beheaded
no food for winter
Distant ghosts breathe closer
Departed mist filled mouths
Dying to kiss. Again
Do you feel cool air close
Down the back of your neck
Distracting you, forming
Delicate, dark vapour
Pleiades
This titled form was invented in 1999 by Craig Tigerman, Sol Magazine’s Lead Editor. Only one word is allowed in the title followed by a single seven-line stanza. The first word in each line begins with the same letter as the title. Hortensia Anderson, a popular haiku and tanka poet, added her own requirement of restricting the line length to six syllables.
Haiku
the sky used to be
pools, puddles, different hues of
yous, mes; now just blues
Haiku
dry rust smell of ground
multi-colour litter crush
blew across our faces
Haiku
recording sound on
phone forgetting to look up
see waves listening
Haiku
white bread soaked in milk
plume stroke, tilt warble-throat back
worm substitute pap
Haiku
impossible blooms
irises – glitter behind glass
impenetrable
Haiku
the idea of stars
flints stuck in unbearable
infinite softness
Haiku
demented semi-
circles on golden pond she
floats, stops, waves, then drowns