Haiku sixty two.

Hello all! Another day and the haiku keep coming. However bad they may be, well by my standards anyway. So here goes.


shadow walking

season heralds

summers approach



shop decors

sense of lost dignity

fluorescent pheasant



band of ochre

enshrines the dwelling

spiritual trespass?



the building

long gone the facade

still stands



fluoro tradesman

tenderly caresses

welcome mat display



some snow remains

mountain slopes misty haze

in spring twilight



the awkward peaks

of the Glass House mountains

in humid sunlight



this slow river

flooded the streets

and my dreams




drunk too quick

no need for rack



shadow walking

season is here



So there you have it another mixed bag. The last one being a revision of one of them. I feel compelled to give a few contextual notes on a few of them so here we go.

1 & 10 is from not only my discomfort from the extreme heat of summer, as I’m an excessive sweater, but also from my observations of predominantly asian women; who shade themselves with umbrellas, walk in as much shade as possible, and sit on the shaded side of buses, lest they get a tan!

3 comes from my memory of a cleaning job I did in Kakadu national park in the Northern Territory. I was living in a small town called Jabiru. It’s in the heart of the park, which is a vast floodplain in the tropics. I was working for a cleaning company run by a couple nearing retirement. I had previously worked in a lodge in the town and normally had no trouble finding people from there to work with me on jobs for the cleaning company. They were mostly delightful Korean girls who made kimchi from scratch for me, and introduced me to the delights of peanut butter, tuna, and sweet chilli sauce on crackers! Now there came one particular job which was half an hours drive out of the town, in the middle of nowhere at the rangers station. The dwelling had lain vacant for a few weeks after the previous occupant, an aboriginal park ranger, had died in a car crash in Western Australia. He was a cousin of TV personality Ernie Dingo. According to the customs of his people (cringe, I never know how to put that, tribe? Never sounds less racist/condescending) there was a continuous band of red earth painted on the building. I knew this as I walked the perimeter to check. The band is supposed to stop the spirit from either entering the dwelling, or leaving it. The house was full of dust and the kitchen had a huge spiderweb, replete with one of the biggest spiders I have ever seen! I had this enormous sense of spiritually trespassing, as the time period of when an aboriginal persons name, image, house, can be spoken, seen, entered, is very flexible and unknown to most uninitiated. So I had no idea if the decision to clean the dwelling was purely arbitrary, or the time had sufficiently elapsed. Lets not forget I was alone, to a larger extent isolated, as the rangers could be anywhere in the vast park. When I was cleaning one of the days (it took me about 3) I heard the sound of glass breaking! I went to check in all the other rooms and found nothing that could have resembled the noise! Needless to say I was scared out of my wits! However I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits. I persevered and finished the job. It was the most frightened I have been in my adult life. I often look back at my time in Kakadu and shed a tear. That land really grabbed my spirit, memories of which I carry in my heart where ever I go.

6 is from a poem by Iio Sogi, presented in two different translations, from the book: The classic tradition of haiku. An anthology edited by Faubion Bowers. I simply amalgamated the two translations together using the parts I liked from both. The book is a bargain by the way, it’s a Dover thrift edition and it’s 3 dollars on amazon.com at the moment.

Well sorry for the novella today but I hope you enjoyed my recollection.





About El Norto

I write haiku. This is my haiku journal.
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