NaHaiWriMo November prompts (abodes)

“Welcome to November NaHaiWriMo! The posts this month will deal with creations, starting with a week of dwellings. Let’s try something different this month. Perhaps write a 3-5-3 haiku, or a monoku (single line), or write a poem that deals with the prompt without using the prompt word. Enjoy exploring the options. Please post your poems inspired by this prompt as comments in response to this posting.”

Visit the website too as I tend to fall off the wagon, and not stay the distance of the month. It could be because writing haiku tends to bore me silly. Maybe I should switch to haibun, to haikai or renga.

The NaHaiWriMo prompt for Nov 1 , 2023: CABIN

AUTUMN ARRIVES LATE

leaves scuttle and dance 
Smoke rises from a cabin in deep woods
woodpecker resumes his carpentry.

11/3/23

I lived in an old cabin

abandoned walnut orchard

slumps back into the mud.

11/3/23

Old walnut orchard

Cabin keeps vigil for signs

Still praying for rain.

11/3/23

DELUGE

Trees thirsting for rain

Cabin keeps an eye on things

Clouds weep in the orchard.

11/3/23

July NaHaiWriMo, 30-something haiku

31. Papyrus

30. Pulp

29. Apple

28. Sugarcane

27. Hydrogen

26. Oak

25. Kenaf

24. Wheat

23. Banana

22. Oxygen

June NaHaiWriMo, haiku

Playing catch-up on haiku prompts, I only just discovered this Facebook NaHaiWriMo site on July 5. There are also May prompts. (I’ll stop here for now). Since I injured my leg June 28, it’s been hard to think about writing, but haiku is feasible.

30. Summer's end 

BRÓN TROGAIN, SUMMER'S END

Lúnasa dances 

with the coming dark season. 

Winter's cold music.

29 seashells

BEACH GOSSIP

Listen to seashells—

long distance conversations 

with tide, wind, and waves.

28. ocean

ANOREXIA

The ceaseless hunger 

of the ocean nibbling 

on towering cliffs.

SPRING, AND ALL short poems, not quite haiku

Spring arrives with convicts
dressed in orange jumpsuits,
picking up the detritus of our lives
abandoned by the side of the road.

The hawk hunkers down on the powerline,
waiting for the foolish optimism of mice.

Two days of sunlight after weeks of rain,
the spine of the drought is broken,
and the pale hills flash their family jewels.

The wind laughs at the years
as if he were listening for something
from the great beyond.

Mornings, the words take their own time coming in. 

You have to be ready to rearrange the parts. 

     —With thanks to David Melzer. 

4/3/23

GREAT WHITE HUNTER, FOOLISH HEART, NaPoWriMo Day 1 haiku

GREAT WHITE HUNTER

Oliver the cat
tiptoes over the wet grass 

then sits on the bug.

He slinks down the path 

flat-eared and round-eyed, he chatters, 

but the birds are no fools.

Foolish cat lays low 

thinking he’s invisible. 

The birds know better.

………….

Last night’s storm damage 

is measured in increments 

by the sheer number 

of utility trucks 

parked by the side of the road

hoisting up cables.

………

Driving any old way to work

So much depends on

the SUV in front of me, 

which way it turns, 

thus mapping my path 

leaving the day’s route to chance.

The road least taken.

………..

Unlucky rabbit 

by the side of the road, split 

like a BBQ chicken.

………..

The marmot was right

Winter didn’t let go 

its hold until April arrived 

rolling up its trousers, 

ready for business.

4/1-3 (I counted syllables all day, but didn’t commit to print)

NaPoWriMo. Haiku & American looons.

FOOLISH HEART

Foolishly, I thought you’d love me forever.
Foolishly, I put all my eggs in one basket.
Foolishly I waited 21 years to seal the bargain
before I had enough of all this foolishness with you.
Foolishly you thought it would all blow over.
Foolishly you hedged your bets. And assumed much.
But when the promissory note came due,
there was nothing left, but your foolish pride.
Foolishly, I believed everything you said.
Foolishly, I believed that forever would last
at least for a half-life of forever and a day.
Foolishly, I believed in the fairytales.
I believed that love was forever today.
But my moth-eaten pride was in tatters,
my heart was dressed in Cinderella rags.
My heart harbored pestilence, rotted from the inside,
because foolishly, I took it all in and blamed myself
gaslighted by your foolish pride.

2023 April PAD Challenge Write a foolish poem.

Here are all 30 of 2022 poem a day prompts. Knock yourself out.

AFTER THE STORM haiku

AT THE KOA CAMPGROUND 

Canada geese take
a spa day in the runoff 

ditch after the storm.

ADAMANTINE LIGHT

The sun burns the eye

reflected in the puddles

of a thousand fires.

2/6/23

PAST THE LAKE

The cursory notes 

of a black bird still singing 

in my memory.

2/6/23

AFTER THE STORM

After slaloming 

so many potholes the road 

crew offers respite.

2/6/23

SINE CURVE 

I swerve to avoid 

a redtail hawk brunching on

a rabbit in the road.

2/6/23

SIREN CALL

Anxiety is 

an ambulance careening

down the road of regret.

2/8/23

PSALM LINES

In the beginning
was the word, a flightless dove
In the psalm of your hand.

The candle guttered, 

the wind reads the blank pages 

of a book unwritten.

1/3/23

RECYCLE haiku

Thoughtful cat barfing
In her food bowl, saving it
For later. Repeat.

Cat regurgitates

breakfast in her food bowl

saving it for later.

 12/23

…..

Cat moons my zoom class, 

flashing her tail, covering 

the lens with her love.

Writing down the bones, 

she strokes the iPod, claiming

my words with her scent.

12/28

SALTIRE SKY (3 haiku)

Yesterday’s sky stretched

over taut coastal ridges 

was a vast saltire. 

Against a saltire sky, 

dusk flagged the coastal hills

with a catch of the day.

Mackerel skies 

crisscrossed with saltire jet streams

and billowing hills.

11/30

THUNDER MOON 3 haiku

In the sky’s pale arms

wind whispers secrets to the pines,
gibbous moon rising.

Thunder Moon spreading

a shimmering quilt of stars,
disturbs night’s dark song.

Buck Moon’s throbbing heart

sings a song of silvered light

& adamantine stars.


GOAT & DEER haiku

Piebald nanny goat
squats on a berm, morning pee
steams in the sunlight.

Must be a theme

eight does on the horizon

taking turns to pee.

Tule fog rises

from the dew laden winter 

grass, jeweled sunlight.

BEGIN AGAIN AFTER THE STORM (3 haiku)

BEGIN AGAIN AFTER THE STORM

A deluge of rain,

lost salmon return to streams,

nosing natal beds.

Creeks roil and churn, froth

a muddy milkshake of foam

and new beginnings.

 

Fish traverse rapids,

seek natal pools they build redds.

Storm scours them clean.

 12/30/21

MoSt challenge 1

FULL SNOW MOON haiku

FULL SNOW MOON

A grey fox crossed the road
in front of my headlights—
his tail erasing his shadow.

2/28/21

MY AMERICA haiku

My America 

is a hummingbird hovering 

at an empty feeder 

crawling with ants.

2/23/21

RECYCLED coronavirus haiku

RECYCLED

Turkey vulture collects

sins of the dead, resurrects them 

in guano time.

Coronavirus 

lays siege, our homes, battlefields 

are strewn with the dead. 

We seek refuge 

in houses, too small to shelter 

us from the world.

Our world shrinks 

exponentially as we shelter in place, 

this plague no one can see. 

We count the dead 

indiscriminately not 

wanting to know the score.

The tally is 

always the same, us zero, 

the grim reaper won.

Turkey vultures 

Line up on fence posts waiting

for their next meal.

5/29/20

ALLERGY SEASON haiku

Allergy season.
I grabbed Visine for my nose—
It can see clearly now.

4/20/20

AT THE LAGUNA 3 haiku (photo)

AT THE LAGUNA

Though the park is closed
father & son cast off their lines
while fish ignore the bait.

They will remember
this day stolen from the book
of time—if they live long enough.

Egrets patrol the floodplain
lost angels stitching the sky
to remnants of the shore.

Quarantine haiku with Chad Sweeney

GLOBAL TAKEOVER (pet haiku)

Truck screeches to a halt, honks,
but the chickens are unflappable, they know
they own the middle of the road.

3/24

AMARYLLIS (home haiku)

Each day I turn the pot
so the forced bulb will straighten up.
But the bud prays toward the light.

3/25

LOVE IN A TIME OF CORONAVIRUS

Ex-lovers, the kind
I once wished dead, forward emails
on how to beat the plague.

3/25

SPRING AND ALL

Alpha rooster proclaims dominion over his flock
The hens ignore him, go about their business
Young cock discovers he too is part of the ritual.

3/26

ESCAPE ARTIST

Amaryllis stem
grew another foot last night—
but still can’t leave the pot.

3/27

ON THE WINDOWSILL

Old beveled hand mirror
reflects a patch of grizzled sky
a soft Irish day, said my gran.

3/28

FRIENDSHIP HAIKU

The best thing she said:
something like 50-plus years later
I still have her back.

3/29

STORMFRONT

Knees and stairs creaking
together, life’s ups and downs—
one step at a time.

3/30

Tuesday Haiku (Basho style)

( setting)             Drinking tea in bed
( subject)            Waiting for it to kick in
( sudden             Why? Still on lockdown.
perception)

3/31

SUN CLOAK

My Gran never said
our freckles were kisses stolen
from the Otherworld.

3/31

WHAT THE TURKEY VULTURE SAID

I don’t mind waiting
but it’s stiff competition
from the politicians.

3/31

MEASURING TIME

You ask why I write
haiku in a time of plague
Baby steps. Baby steps.

3/31

SHOPPING EXPEDITION

Each time I have to shop
my virus exposure meter resets to zero.
Still, the nightmares continue.

3/31

SODA ROCK WINERY, AFTER THE FIRE

Wine barrel cooperage behind a facade
a giant game of ring-toss gone wrong.
The warthog’s rusted kingdom.

3/31


WHAT MOTIVATES YOU, GRATITUDE OR FEAR?

Born in late November, at the edge of autumn,
the diminishing light & encroaching darkness motivates me
call it fear, call it death—but I am driven by it.

4/1

PATTERNS

She said, Silent & listen
are anagrams. I must be bored.
I said, Careful, poetry is a gateway drug
to the road to perdition.

4/1

DOOR TO DOOR SERVICE

According to yesterday’s headlines.
Drinking is up by 41% in the Bay Area.
I’ll drink to that.

4/1

HICK’S VALLEY ROAD

Driving down backroads
the odor of meadowfoam
vernal pools flood the eye.

4/2

NATALITY

Another passage
around the sun, still breathing.
How we count the days.

4/3

WRAPPING THE PRESENT

I give to the self
this day, a gift wrapped in light
the breath of laughter.

4/3

CANCELED

Sat in the front seat
watched the sun cross the driveway,
Hey, I’m still alive!

4/4

FEEDING TIME

The chickens circle,
they know I’m inside the car.
At least they’re not vultures.

4/4

NOWHERE TO GO

I sit in the car
sipping coffee and writing.
Window to the world.

4/4

WHAT MY MOTHER TOLD ME

I was made at sunset
in the back seat of a Ford.
Now I wait for the night.

4/4

SOLIDARITY

West county was late
Getting their howl on—the dogs
too joined the chorus.

4/4

FOWL GODDESS

They see me coming
When I step out of the car
Chickens gather round.

4/11

CLEAN UP CREW (haiku)

CLEAN UP CREW

Bald-headed vultures—
Death Star congress recruiting
in the hinterlands.

Poem was

Two turkey vultures—
Death Star captains recruiting
on a country road

NO RESERVATIONS

Turkey vultures line
up at the roadside cafe
for raccoon special.

UNDER THE MADRONE, OLD OBSTACLES, MoSt poetry challenge #1 4 haiku

Many challenges
A year of indecision
Obstacles melted.

Under the madrone
Old car settles in, dreaming
Of the open road.

Settling into
A new life without rancor
Myriad choices.

New digs deepen roots
When the past becomes a dream
Old tree bears new fruit.