Better Than Starbucks
Poetry and Fiction Journal
. . . if you love diversity and creative writing in any and every form, then you’re in the right place . . .
November 2021
Vol VI No IV
Published quarterly:
February, May, August,
and November.
Haiku
with Kevin McLaughlin
The Quiescent State
Haiku is purest when written in a quiescent state. Haiku is not a poetry of passion, excitement, high emotion, or revolutionary zeal. Haiku enables the poet to encounter their true nature in a serene state by perceiving an image as ‘the-thing-in-itself.’ Quoted in Tai Chi Ch’uan and Meditation (Master Da Liu, Shocken Books), “Lao Tzu says all things appear multitudinous and varied, but eventually they all return to their common root. The state of quiescence is called the fulfillment of life.” Taoism postulates the well-known yin and yang. The haikuist joins the two disparate elements effortlessly.
Golden orb weaver,
Perfectly still in its web,
In the mangrove swamp.
Kevin McLaughlin
TM (pen name) has written a verse entirely consistent with that serene, quiescent state.
New nests in the trees,
Old torches sure to be passed.
Wind sighs its regrets.
(Relax into the spirit of those new nests, so artfully created.)
TM
M. T. Williams is currently living among the corn with his wife and stepdaughter and way too many cats. (Impossible to have too many cats and dogs.)
birds fall down upon
weighted wings they choose to fall
blindly into night
M. T. Williams
Amy Van Duzer is a lifelong writer and an MFA candidate at Mt. Saint Mary’s College in Los Angeles.
In winter the sun,
A distant star,
Still shines.
(This has a subtle feeling of reverence for the source of our planet's life force.)
Amy Van Duzer
Joan Fingon of Ventura, California, likes to write, and to read poetry to her cat in her back garden and enjoys screen time with her three grandsons.
sitting on the bench
wisteria winds on wood
purple waterfall
(How remarkable . . . a quiet vision of a purple waterfall.)
in the bird feeder
sudden summer storm
hailstone crescendo
Joan Fingon
Shai Afsai lives in Rhode Island, a haven for sunsets and beavers.
sunset —
red-haired beauty
readying for sleep
(May each early evening have this spirit.)
pond beavers flood
my favorite hiking trail —
their right, I suppose
Shai Afsai
Taofeek Ayeyemi is a Nigerian lawyer who has been published in numerous publications, including Frogpond and Modern Haiku.
sitting in the sun —
the temple bell tossed
by a stray bird
First published in Akitsu Quarterly.
strumming violin . . .
the garden sweeper
adds to the melody
First published in Cold Moon Journal.
(A layer of sounds. All sounds become One in this haiku.)
a second look
at the rainwater . . .
dusty roof
Taofeek Ayeyemi
Obinna Chilekezi is a Nigerian writer who introduces an appealing mystical element into his haiku.
I plucked this wild rose
Mystical as she gets into my skin
And I am left with scar
(A scar to be treasured.)
Obinna Chilekezi
Mona Bedi from India honors tradition and spirituality in her beautiful work.
harvest festival
we dance to the music
of cowbells
cuckoos call
anniversary bed tea
in silence
zero gravity
the silence around
meditation
(Experienced meditators recognize this zero-gravity stillness Bedi describes. But few have ever made the connection with zero-gravity.)
Mona Bedi
Ernesto P. Santiago, born in the Philippines, now resides in Greece. He writes that he is too small for his ego. Such a fascinating self-insight.
finally touching
my father’s ashes
tumble in the wind
a catharsis?
in the warmth of sunlight
wet butterfly
(So clean. Butterfly blesses Mr. Santiago.)
Ernesto P. Santiago
Gerald Friedman grew up in Cleveland’s suburbs and now teaches physics at Santa Fe Community College in New Mexico. A collaborative synthesis is developing between physicists and haiku. Such people see deeply into the world’s components.
mayfly in the house
released to light and air
of the day
(Joy for a mayfly.)
sunflower field
a gray moth lands on one
for a rest
(Such an affinity for feeling rather than intellection. This is poetry!)
dry June spadeful
a spadefoot toad falls out
not even woken
(Plop! This haiku resonates throughout time.)
garden rock glitters
sun was brighter
on its mountain
Gerald Friedman
Kelley Jean White is a pediatrician who has worked in inner city Philadelphia and rural New Hampshire.
first snow
the withered field
more withered
this shortest night
you wake me
fireflies
(We would all like to view White’s fireflies.)
Kelley Jean White
Dianne Moritz’s children’s book 1,2,3 By the Sea is a bestseller. She also writes beautiful, enjoyable haiku.
sudden rainstorm
running barefoot through the grass
raindrops on our tongues
hydrangea bushes
show off their big, blue blooms
praying mantis rests
(The praying mantis is the haiku’s cutting word (kireji), its essence.)
field of sunflowers
faces lifted to the sky
sun bathing
Dianne Moritz
Paweł Markiewicz has learned the mindfulness that makes haiku the proper state of mind. His pictures would stir any subtle reader’s imagination.
the lone bumblebee
more lonely — I dreamer
most lonely — moon
the baffling cat’s eyes
the dear star dust is falling
in the meek calyx
the last vernal snow
having fallen at the morn
an epiphany
Paweł Markiewicz
Jon Wike practices law and teaches English in Nashville, Tennessee.
Lightning in winter,
flashes in heavy clouds —
neither old nor young.
(Note these clouds are neither old nor young. These clouds catch life as it flows.)
Red on a bird’s wing,
red along the western hills —
peace in a tired mind.
Jon Wike
Sherrell Wigal desires to write poetry that inspires and challenges. Read these carefully.
Frogs vesper evening
the quiet darkness settles
stay awake till dawn
Vultures tilt and glide
clouds calligraphy the sky
pen scratching paper
(The perceptive eye easily follows these vultures riding the thermals.)
Sherrell Wigal
Alexandria Ibarra of California is passionate about her native ancestry. Would that all could embrace their heritage.
Mud brown eyes reflect
Mountain ranges old, burning
Ancestors reign, lost.
Alexandria Ibarra
Steven M. Smith lives in North Syracuse, New York, a wonderful place to study the cold.
Arctic winter air
stampedes across the Great Lakes
Snowplows are trampled
Cardinal singing
in our flowering dogwood
Aubade for breakfast
The Big Dipper spills
summer meteor showers
Midnight’s floor is soaked
(This is yet another superior third line, gently arising from the two previous lines.)
Steven M. Smith
Riham El-Ashry is an Egyptian poet, artist, and an English teacher. She writes, “It is the simple yet profound aspect of haiku that attracts me to this art.”
swaying twig
a steady dove
balance
(Only nine syllables . . . yet they convey spiritual and physical balance. All can admire this dove.)
Riham El-Ashry
Matt Dove offers that rare piece, a haiku that also contains a vivid simile.
Moss covered rocks are
Attractive and dangerous
As unguarded minds
For generations
Oak trees witness silently
Freshly fallen leaves
Matt Dove
Sarah Mahina Calvello produces her work using an association of ideas, an old Japanese technique.
Anticipating
Flowers become cold
Under the hazy moon
Finding secrets
Left in the new grass garden
Stolen shadows
(Stolen shadows might be an absence of light, the darkness beloved by Taoists.)
Walking down the path
Leaves turn to color
Waiting for the sun
Sarah Mahina Calvello
Melanie Weldon-Soiset makes her home in Washington, District of Columbia. She is a #ChurchToo spiritual abuse survivor and former pastor for foreigners in Shanghai.
Temple incense —
a fragrant diadem crowning
my memory.
(A memory never to be forgotten.)
City lake stirs,
furry face emerges-beaver?
How wild!
Osmanthus blooms
perfume gardens and sweeten wine
so faraway.
Melanie Weldon-Soiset
William Cullen Jr. of Brooklyn, New York, is a veteran and works at a social services non-profit. He embodies haiku’s universality.
catacombs
the quiet of old bones
in dim light
(Such peaceful imagery in a place of reverence.)
carpenter bees
very fine sawdust
shows a faint breeze
(Superior connection between the bees and the sawdust . . . admire the oneness.)
old beaver dam
beams of dusk light
slipping through
William Cullen Jr.
Strive to be alert to a haiku moment even when your mind might be otherwise occupied.
“Form is emptiness,
Emptiness is form.”
—The Heart Sutra
Kevin McLaughlin
Yet once more I encourage all haiku writers to share their work, their insights into the nature of all things, with fellow poets and BTS readers.
For those interested in haiku, I recommend you cast back into the BTS archives and reference the September 2016 column. It provides a pretty thorough explanation of the basic format.
—Kevin Mclaughlin
Haiku Archive
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