Saturday, December 13, 2014

Floating in freedom - haiku

water birds peck at
broken floating shards of sky
rippling freedom


Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Flutterby song

flutterby wings
folded in prayer or song
ode to a leaf


flutterby wings
open in benediction
ode to a flower


Friday, December 05, 2014

December the 5th

had you your body
I would have called to say
“Happy Birthday”
your ‘Thank you”
would have come
with the deepest of love.

But only bodies are born
and then die

you live on

a spirit gentle
a presence warm and tender
a smile guileless

in some place
where dates don’t matter
or even words
and when thoughts fall away
your presence comes as
a soft fragrance
a gentle footfall
a touch soothing

On this day
what can I do
but be present to your presence
be mindful
of your unconditional love
my heart brimming
with utmost gratitude


Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Words - haiku

the page waits
the ink in the pen waits
to meet and make love

I, the matchmaker
the celebrant, the midwife
or just a witness
thus, words are born
and then set free like winged seeds
on a carefree wind

will they fall into
hearts made pure with silence
and bloom into joy?


Sunday, November 09, 2014

Come unto joy - haiku

come unto me
in this vale of birdsong
let us lose ourselves

let us lose ourselves
the body is but a shell
the ego a lie

the ego a lie
the mind has been making up
let us let go

let us let go
of the mind, put it down
succumb to stillness

succumb to stillness
in this vale of nothingness
come unto joy


Wednesday, November 05, 2014

Birds rise from trees - haiku

birds rise from trees
in a symphony of song
winged arias

birds rise from trees
a trembling twig waves farewell
till dusk we part

birds rise from trees
carrying bits of tree spirit
rooted and flying


Saturday, November 01, 2014

Forget-me-nots - haiku

forget-me-not, please
said Day to Night, in passing
the moon rose, rotund

solitary owl
calls out to a day unseen
forget-me-not, light

between the pages
turning into days and nights
pressed forget-me-nots

waves write parting notes
on the gently yielding sand
forget-me-not, shore


Monday, October 20, 2014

Bedecked - haiku

a bride bedecked
awaits bee consummation
flowering wattle


A letter in October


Dawn comes later and later now,   
and I, who only a month ago
could sit with coffee every morning   
watching the light walk down the hill   
to the edge of the pond and place   
a doe there, shyly drinking,

then see the light step out upon   
the water, sowing reflections   
to either side—a garden
of trees that grew as if by magic—
now see no more than my face,   
mirrored by darkness, pale and odd,

startled by time. While I slept,   
night in its thick winter jacket   
bridled the doe with a twist
of wet leaves and led her away,
then brought its black horse with harness   
that creaked like a cricket, and turned

the water garden under. I woke,   
and at the waiting window found   
the curtains open to my open face;   
beyond me, darkness. And I,
who only wished to keep looking out,   
must now keep looking in.


Wow!!! I mean, awesome!

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Monday, October 13, 2014

Wistful - haiku

the night drapes silence
on trees still agog with the
echoes of birdsong


Friday, October 10, 2014

Pots of colour - haiku

My tulips have all bloomed and are gorgeous :)


pots of colour
painted by earth, air, rain
the sun's pleased




by Douglas S. Jones 

The spider living in the bike seat has finally spun
its own spokes through the wheels.
I have seen it crawl upside down, armored
black and jigging back to the hollow frame,
have felt the stickiness break
as the tire pulls free the stitches of last night's sewing.
We've ridden this bike together for a week now,
two legs in gyre by daylight, and at night,
the eight converting gears into looms, handle bars
into sails. This is how it is to be part of a cycle—
to be always in motion, and to be always
woven to something else.


Wednesday, October 01, 2014

a bird dives - haiku

a bird dives
wings scattering light
a worm dies

a worm dies
turns into bird wings flight
earth meets sky

earth meets sky
hurtling through a space field
a pulsing orb

a pulsing orb
that appears and disappears


Friday, September 26, 2014


Ok, so I started another blog -



Thursday, September 25, 2014

An awesome way to make kids less self absorbed

We teach children how to measure and how to weigh. We fail to teach them how to revere, how to sense wonder and awe. --Harold Kushner

An awesome way to make kids less self absorbed


Sunday, September 21, 2014

World Gratitude Day

Today is World Gratitude Day and I wrote a post on my new blog dedicated to all things Earthy ...

Down to Earth Life

Note to myself : now I must keep up the posts :)

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Dances with trees - haiku

the wind scatters
leaf tunes, birdsong and moth wings
I dance with trees


Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Spring - haiku

spring comes stealthy
sap surging up bare branches
bud burst and bird song

in my heart core, words
break their long winter of soul
on page, blood spills

Spring strides susurrus
tossing mane of green
tinkling flowers

I welcome the sun
in joy, my heart keels over
old lover



Friday, September 05, 2014

Life and death

a moth crosses paths
with a roving blackbird
life and death

A  few thoughts I wanted to add to this haiku I posted yesterday.

Sometime ago, I was in the beans patch and something, quick as a flashing sword, flew past me, dived into the bean bushes and flew out. Much to my surprise, it was a blackbird with a struggling moth in its beak. It perched itself in the fence and proceeded to flick its head vigorously from side to side, perhaps in an attempt to hasten the moth’s demise. I don’t exactly know why it did this, but it seemed, to my human reasoning, that if it opened its beak to gulp it down, the moth, sensing release, would fly away. Then, when the moth stopped fluttering, it vanished down the bird’s throat in a series of gulps.

I must admit to being disturbed by this drama of the moth’s death. To gardeners, moths are important pollinators and are considered beneficial. But that is human reasoning, flawed as always. After I wrote the haiku, I looked at the scenario a bit more detachedly.

The moth died, but in death, did it not give life to the bird? Because of its death, the bird continues to live. So, life itself hasn’t ceased, it has just been transferred from one form to another. The cycle of life didn’t break, it just kept going, the moth living on as the bird. It is because of our human attachment to form and its apparent separateness that death causes us so much grief.

The other human fallacy that I harboured was the classification of ‘living’ and ‘non-living’ things. Science’s definition of ‘life’ is the ability to ingest, digest (as in food) and reproduce. By this definition things like water and sunlight are ‘non-living’ things. But without them, all life would cease to exist. We take in water (as part of out ingestion and digestion) and a hefty percentage of us comprises water, and while it is in us, it is considered ‘living’ but as soon as it exits our systems, it goes back to ‘non-living’. A bit unfair, from water’s point of view :) Not that it cares...:(

You wouldn’t consider a piece of iron ‘living’ yet small traces of iron is utterly essential to human life. The sand on the beach looks ‘non-living’, yet silicon in the human body contributes to health. So, could science’s definition of ‘life’ be called accurate? Or, is such a classification even necessary?

Life goes on seamlessly, with forms disappearing into one another, elements getting in and out of systems. From this point of view, the illusion of separation tends to get hazy. What emerges is the view that the whole universe (living and non-living, seen and unseen) is a vast, seamless, unending ocean of intelligence, in which waves arise, dimly seen as forms, they ride the crest and dissolve back into the ocean. A moth wave rises and melds into a bird wave. Human waves arise and dissolve. The whole is alive and is Life itself. In this scheme of things, there is no death. There is only Life and it is infinite.

And yes, we are that intelligence, not separate, but One. Briefly self-aware, as we ride the human wave.


Thursday, September 04, 2014

Morning rituals – haiku

birds alight on trees
all wing and feather and song
expectant air

on a pale peach sky
wings draw hieroglyphs
God’s words

a moth crosses paths
with a roving blackbird
life and death


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

The unbearable urgency of life - haiku

words, weighted down
burdened with life's urgency
waiting to fly

maybe I should 
jump out of life's speeding train
into nothingness

caught as I am in 
this tale of my own making
like a moth

bedazzled by the 
illusion of light and life
flying towards death

as silence waits, 
still, underneath all things
warm and welcoming


Thursday, July 24, 2014

Waiting for the sun - haiku

slivers of sunlight
melt snow into springs, dancing,
warbling light

calling, calling forth
sleeping kowhai buds
pastor bird

the buds must know
when to burst forth and blossom
quench thirsty throats

spring stirs lazy
in the sleeping earth’s loins
waiting for the sun


Sunday, July 20, 2014

Dreamtime - haiku

scraps of desires
surface unbidden in sleep

unwilling, blind
I walk through life’s dreamscape
wanting to waken

who is dreaming?
who is the watcher of dreams?
I and not I


Thursday, June 26, 2014

This being alive

This being alive
is a thing to celebrate

notice how
the heart marches
beat by pounding beat
regardless of
dusk or dawn
calm or storm
an unseen
unstopping soldier

notice how
the breath pulls us
stride by stride
inhale by exhale
a spectral charioteer
horses unseen
this carriage temporal
sometimes weary
sometimes strong

notice how
each heartbeat
is a milestone
a silent victory
exulting in us
every second
each breath a stitch
and stitch by stitch
a life is sewn

how can we not celebrate?

knowing that
bits of stars
abide in us
waiting to reveal
celestial light

knowing our home
this blue jewel
is hurtling through space
in the company of giants
nestled in a galaxy

this being alive
is a thing of pain

notice how
dreams shatter
life crumbles
people leave
and people die
you fail and fall again
but this you know
at your very core
you are unbreakable

how can we not celebrate
when life waits within
to express itself
as love, as light
as grace

sit still
feel the life force
the inexplicable joy
that waits beneath
for the blossoming

this being alive
is a rising up, a setting out
a triumph over ennui and death
a casting off of darkness
a revealing of light


Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Stars - haiga

(photo taken - Wellington, 27th April 2014)

Monday, April 28, 2014

Poem of the Day : Rain

by Kazim Ali
With thick strokes of ink the sky fills with rain.
Pretending to run for cover but secretly praying for more rain.

Over the echo of the water, I hear a voice saying my name.
No one in the city moves under the quick sightless rain.

The pages of my notebook soak, then curl. I've written:
"Yogis opened their mouths for hours to drink the rain."

The sky is a bowl of dark water, rinsing your face.
The window trembles; liquid glass could shatter into rain.

I am a dark bowl, waiting to be filled.
If I open my mouth now, I could drown in the rain.

I hurry home as though someone is there waiting for me.
The night collapses into your skin. I am the rain.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

The show

(100-word flash fiction)


The lead guitarist was missing and the crowd was getting restive. Jerry, frantic, was about to improvise when there emerged an elderly man carrying a guitar case. He slowly walked over to Steve’s place.

“Steve couldn’t come.” He quietly answered Jerry’s angry, questioning glare. “I am his father. I’ve come to take his place. The show must go on, shouldn’t it?”

That night the guitar sang of pride, childhood, loss and triumph. It was spellbinding.

After they closed, Jerry invited Mr.Faulkner over for a drink.

“What happened to Steve?”

Mr.Faulkner’s tired face crumpled.

“He had a heart attack. He’s gone.”


Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -

Copyright - Bjorn Brudberg

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Poem of the Day : Earth Day


I am the Earth
And the Earth is me.
Each blade of grass,
Each honey tree,
Each bit of mud,
And stick and stone
Is blood and muscle,
Skin and bone.

And just as I
Need every bit
Of me to make
My body fit,
So Earth needs
Grass and stone and tree
And things that grow here

That's why we
Celebrate this day.
That's why across
The world we say:
As long as life,
As dear, as free,
I am the Earth
And the Earth is me. 


Tuesday, April 22, 2014

On the rocks

Today is Earth Day. Hope the Earth is happy with the way we are treating it.

(Akatarawa Forest, Wellington, February 2013)


Monday, April 21, 2014

The fading light

(shot at Canberra, Australia, Nov 2013)

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Poem of the day : Christ Human

Descending Theology : Christ Human


    Such a short voyage for a god,
and you arrived in animal form so as not
    to scorch us with your glory.
Your mask was an infant’s head on a limp stalk,
    sticky eyes smeared blind,
limbs rendered useless in swaddle.
    You came among beasts
as one, came into our care or its lack, came crying
    as we all do, because the human frame
is a crucifix, each skeletos borne a lifetime.
    Any wanting soul lain
prostrate on a floor to receive the poured sunlight
    might—if still enough,
feel your cross buried in the flesh.
    One has only to surrender,
you preached, open both arms to the inner,
    the ever-present embrace,
which props one up, out reaches every grasp.
    It’s in the form embedded,
love adamant as bone. The miracle is not just
    you became us but also
those breathed-in moments allotted to us each
   (even poor Brother Judas),
when one relinquishes self and will and want.
     Then you're laid bare in us,
and for some briefly gentle eyeblink
    we bloom and are you.


The fitting - haiku

I try on poems
like clothes to see which fits
my soul


Saturday, April 19, 2014

Music – haiku


angel dust, rain song
the beat ‘neath butterfly wings


Friday, April 18, 2014

Nature - haiga

Thursday, April 17, 2014

The spinster

(100-word flash fiction)


She finds the abandoned baby one dark evening in the bushes outside her house. Her orphan, spinster heart overflowing with love she herself has never known, pours it into his tiny life.


Like a tidal wave, his ‘real’ parents crash land, accuse her of ‘kidnapping’, threaten to get her arrested, finally leave with him, leaving her lost, broken and crumpled like a wasted ruin. She picks herself up and plods on.


She is late returning to an empty home from her retirement party. As she pushes open the gate, a young man steps out of the shadows.

Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -

Copyright - Douglas M. MacIlroy

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Dead locks - haiga

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Monday, April 14, 2014

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Flight - haiku

brown and dusty
the ground erupts on the wingtips
of sparrows


Saturday, April 12, 2014

Rain - haiga

Friday, April 11, 2014

Homecoming - Friday Fictioneers

(100 word flash fiction)


He stood alone on the dusty little railway platform. The train, having sucked people into its metal belly, had rattled off. Where was his father?

Disappointed, he climbed into the solitary taxi. It was night when they reached his remote hamlet. When the driver stopped unexpectedly in the village square, he began to protest.

Suddenly, the place burst into light. Festooned with dried rice stalks, the square erupted with fireworks and the cheers of the entire village. His father stood beaming and his mother rushed forward to embrace him.

He had returned after 10 years, the hamlet’s first qualified doctor.


P.S. Wanted to write something positive this week after all the sad stories I’ve been writing :) but it seems it has come out rather flat :(

Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -

copyright - DLovering

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Autumn - haiku

scorch marks
from a long ago summer
autumn heals


The tree
must want to kiss the earth
autumn leaves



Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Blackberry picking - haiga

Tuesday, April 08, 2014

Monday, April 07, 2014

Sunday, April 06, 2014

Birthday present - haiku

we stopped the clocks
and slept for an extra hour
birthday present

the trees shake loose
their autumn leaves on me
birthday present

passing years
bestow hard won wisdom
birthday present


Saturday, April 05, 2014

Prelude - haiku

nights glide in
their cloaks trimmed with cold
prelude to winter


Friday, April 04, 2014

Autumn sonata - haiga

Thursday, April 03, 2014

Lights! Camera! Action!

(100-word flash fiction in poem form) 

Lights! Camera! Action!

How ardently she wished
to shut out those words
that followed her everywhere,
into the bath, into her dreams,

that pecked at her brain
like a cerebral woodpecker,
from age 3 to age 18
from child-star to super-star.

So, first she invited over
a deadly little virus,
it took with it her hearing
and most of her voice.

But she was too famous,
her mother too ambitious
the voices didn’t stop
the roles kept coming.

Then came the fall-
it cut up her face, broke
some bones, nothing
plastic surgery couldn’t fix

Finally, the fire did it…..


This week’s entry for Friday Fictioneers, that amazing group led and prompted by Rochelle :) The prompt is the following image -

Studio Lights from Kent

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Dawn - haiku

light breaks through night's curtain
peeping Tom


day breaks
night unfolds its embrace
a seedling sprouts


melting darkness
shows you that too much light
will hurt


Tuesday, April 01, 2014

April the 1st

I read somewhere
that time is a trick
not at all linear
or orderly
like soldiers would be
in a march-past,
but is rather like a sheaf
of pages piled up on top
of each other
our tomorrows stacked
on our yesterdays
like heavy burdens
of possibilities.

I dived into that buried pile,
assumedly accessible,
and surfaced on the page
of an yesteryear me,
all blush and innocence,
with a heart that had not yet
learned to distrust,
whose smile still seeped
into lucid eyes
and who is clueless
about how to shape
possibility into reality.

What do I tell
this past version of me?

I then wonder
of all the possible futures
I could have had
why I choose the page
I am now on
and if I had chosen differently
would I be in another sheaf?

or did I even have a choice?

Is it time that tricked me
or is it life?

I stand outside
and gaze at the stars
sliding slowly across the sky
and time trips me up again.

The light that I see
is not the star
but a mere memory of it,
the light that left it
so many light years ago,
by a trick of time
reaching me now,
a ghost, nothing else,
a faded celebrity,
a beautiful echo
that chose to fall
on today’s page.

And then,
everything shifts
and dissolves
like illusionary shadows.
Time is nothing but this moment
and life is happening nowhere
but in this moment.

And April the 1st
is just a label.


Sunday, March 30, 2014

Parasite tales

Behavior control, Nature's way ....

Thursday, March 27, 2014

The trees

(100-word flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers)


The trees have taken over the earth. The humans thought they were on top of the pyramid. But all it took was one storm. Unknotted by lightning, unrolled by thunder, and rain. Unrelenting rain. The humans got buried under their own debris. The earth had turned into water, a liquid tomb, which softly sucked at all that flesh.

When it stopped, there were worms everywhere. In eye sockets that once had dreamt dreams, chest cavities where had throbbed hearts, pelvises that had borne generations. The trees had eaten the rest.

Their trunks are now beginning to look like human limbs.


100-word flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers at Rochelle’s. Written for the image prompt below.

Copyright-John Nixon

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Poem of the day - Up on top

by Olav H. Hauge

After stumbling a long time over impossible trails
you are up on top.
Hardship didn't crush you, you trod it
down, climbed higher.

That's how you see it. After life has tossed you
away, and you ended up on top
like a one-legged wooden horse on a dump.
Life is merciful, it blinds and provides illusions,
and destiny takes on our burden:
foolishness and arrogance become mountains and marshy places,
hate and resentment become wounds from enemy arrows,
and the doubt always with us becomes cold dry
rocky valleys.

You go in the door.
The pot lies upside down in the hearth,
it sprawls with hostile black feet.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Wind - haiku

the flowers bend
the plants bend, the tree, alas!
gets uprooted


footprints tremble
up the surface of the lake
mischievous wind


gusts of memories
run amok in the present


russet, brown, orange
chase each other on the grass
autumn windfall


Friday, March 21, 2014

The latticed window

(100-word flash fiction)


She stood on the road and looked up at the latticed window, seeing it for the first time from the outside, thinking how beautiful it looked.

She had found herself on the inside one bleak, moonless night, a child bride at 13, an elderly man’s fifth wife. 16 years of hell had followed.

She had been imprisoned in the house, not been allowed to step outside, not even when her father died.

That’s when she had decided to escape. The others were fellow prisoners, all married to the jail-keeper. He had to go.

All it had taken was a pillow.


100-word flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers at Rochelle’s .  Written for the image prompt below -


Begonia - softly lit

Thursday, March 13, 2014

(100-word flash fiction)


As she walks over the wooden bridge, the planks creak. It seems they are trying to say something, but she puts that thought aside, as she recalls the time, when as a child she had dived into the deep end of the pool. It had been so beautiful underwater, so quiet. She could have stayed there forever. But they had pulled her out, made her breathe again.

This time she hopes no one finds her. That she can stay underwater forever, having to breathe no more. When she realises with a start, the planks are saying, “no, no, no ….”

Friday Fictioneers prompt by Rochelle. Write a 100-word flash fiction piece based on a photo.
Photo copyright - Adam Ickes

Sunday, March 09, 2014

I am a wild woman


I am a wild woman
I know, inspite of myself
and in spite of what I've been told
that there's beauty in every age
no matter how old

I am a wild woman
I've learned what it means to be a life bearer
to bear children
to create art
to plant seeds of love

I am a wild woman
from the depths of the dirt underneath my fingernails
to the height of my very soul
I am one with the Earth
the winds from the four directions whisper through my skin

I am a wild woman
and the spirit of every wild woman coalesces in me
for we are each wild women
and we are all the spirit of the wild woman
I will follow the voice in my heart

I am a wild woman
I sing from my heart
I dance with the stars
I howl at the moon
I love uncontrollably

I am a wild woman
from the deepest, darkest, most sacred part of me
I am fearless
I cry in strength
I open my arms to the sky and welcome the rain

I am a wild woman
I nurture, love and protect
I stand, strongly, silently, sweetly for my brothers
I walk dutifully, prayerfully, joyfully upon the mother
and I will not be stopped

I am a wild woman.



Every Day We Are Dancers


It begins with the lewd macarena
each of us performs in the shower,
then the modified twist we are hip to
with that ever-absorbent partner, the towel,

and on to the funky chicken of stepping into underwear,
the shimmy of stretching into hose.
There is no music, none that anyone
can hear, yet no one can escape the boogie.

Outside beneath the disco ball of the Sun
no one is a wallflower, not even the two lugs
in the crosswalk lugging a huge mirror,
one at either end pressing his cheek

into the cheek of his own reflection, arm
extended, hand clasping his own hand in a tango
more about control than passion, one couple
leading himself forward, the other slide-stepping

backwards across the intersection made double
by the infinite burden they shoulder together.
At the entrances of buildings even those afflicted
with two left feet find grace with a stranger


Friday, February 28, 2014

Creative February 28 - Ode to summer

Today is officially the last day of summer. An ode seemed the best way to say goodbye...


Spreading, sparkling, sunlit
Seduces me into her simmering haze
Until I rise
A glittering mote
Into her expansive golden arms
Her warm pulsating heart

It is easy to lose myself
All sense of identity lost
In the frenzied heart throb of a season
Where all things rise to greet the sun
In one unending exultation

Summer, queenly, majestic.
As though Spring, that debutante princess
having strutted her freshness
Of tender leaves and sprouting seedlings
has ripened into a delicious woman.
Who has wrested the secrets of life
From harsh Nature and
having won the battle wears her success
in medals of ripening fruit
lush dresses of deepening green
her hair adorned with flowers,
and tiaras of butterflies, bees and birds

And, brazen and wanton,
laughing at her celestial lover.

when Nature breaks the cold cruel curse
of winter and offers a blessing
a reward for patience
a medal for forbearance
pinned to Earth’s breast
throws upon it
a congratulatory cloak of verdancy.

The season of the cicada
who shedding its shell
Rises in the hundreds
Its ululating mating call
Frantic and fervid
The ultimate ode to summer