fragile cherry blossoms
cover the backyard of the mansion
tears rolling down my cheeks
© Chèvrefeuille
advent of spring
that old apple tree
pubescent buds
(c) Tournesol’16-05-13
Category: Tournesol dans un jardin
5th Japan-Russia Haiku Contest : Guidelines (English Version)
A wonderful opportunity to participate in this Japan-Russia Haiku Contest!
英語版の募集要項を掲載いたします。
皆様のご応募を期待しています。
Here is a present from a Russian haiku poet.
The 5th Japan-Russia Haiku Contest
(Guidelines for Submission)
April 30, 2016
Akita International Haiku Network
INTRODUCTION
In 2012, the 1st Japan -Russia Haiku Contest was launched with the help of JAPAN CENTER IN VLADIVOSTOK as one of the links with the cultural exchange between Japan and Russia, wishing to provide an opportunity to mutually share haiku related to the theme of “the sea” (The Sea of Japan) which connects Japan and Russia.
The organizer hoped that the contest would serve as an opportunity to deepen mutual understanding among people, to promote the interaction of people’s views on Japan and Russia, as well as to convey the enjoyment of reading or composing haiku.
The organizer also hoped that it would serve as an opportunity to strengthen and develop the sister city relationship between Akita and Vladivostok, as well as to…
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running wild (haiku ~ shadorma)
(haiku)
they ran wild
through fields and woodlands
serving themselves
serving themselves
legends of these horses
wild and free
wild and free
hard to believe they’ve been around
for centuries
(shadorma)
running wild
from another time
long ago
wanderers
shipwrecked many years ago
trusty survivors
(c) Tournesol’16-05-02
Old Pond (Tan Renga)
old pond
frog jumps in
sound of water
© Basho (Tr. Chèvrefeuille)
splashes on his robe
the old monk smiles
© Tournesol’16-05-01
Y is for Yelp (haibun)
The sound of chanting Hail Mary’s in different tones echoes from the bedroom. They are all kneeling around the bed of their dying father. The antique clock on the old sideboard ticks. Soft moans turn gradually into anguished cries.
missing his master
lying under his bed
the spaniel yelps
©Tournesol ’16/4/29
awakens (haiku)
Skilful tease
stirs her ardent needs
butterfly kiss
budding heart,
responds to silken strokes
with heavy sighs
such reveries
throughout the night – and,
quickened gasps
pulsating
painting rosy cheeks
radiant
awakens in shortened breaths
ah, such momentary bliss!
© Tournesol ’15 (originally written April 2015)
wakens to the touch,
runs a finger on the curve
of her lips
© Tournesol ’16/04/27
V is for vernissage (haibun – haiga)
The artist was excited as she hung her last canvas for her vernissage at the local public library. She was always impressed at the amount of people who showed up on weekends, rain or shine for these humble viewings. Under each canvas she went around to tape on the wall a haiku her niece sister had written , adding subtle and thoughtful meaning to her art.
light of day fades
fragmented promises
slip away
light of day fades
thoughts that once, seemed important
seem to disappear
fragmented promises
never had
the time of day
slip away
unfulfilled promises
just can’t turn back time
©Tournesol’16/04/26
Blogging from A to Z Challenge
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
daily moments ~flowers for mom (troibun)
She had rented a car for the weekend. Rather than get her usual economical car like a Hyundai Accent or Nissan Versa, the manager offered her a Fiat because she mentioned how she missed her old Renaud V and this was about the same size. But, the Fiat was rented already and he offered her the VW Beetle. She thought of the first car her sister drove in the early ‘70’s. Yep, they had had good times in that are driving in snowstorms to go shopping or get to a hairdresser’s appointment in a town 30 km away. She remembers fondly a photo she has of her sister and nephew in front of the dark blue VW Beetle with a lime green flower painted on the front hood. Yes those were the days of flower power.
Three hours before returning the car, she drove to a mall to look for running shoes, but with her large feet she could not find anything that fit comfortably. She stopped at a florist and picked a bright orange flower and added green flora and leaves since it was her mother’s favourite colour. She looked at the arrangement and was pleased with the finished product until she arrived at the cemetery and saw such beautiful flora arrangements. She made a mental note to choose larger flowers. Mom would have liked to stand out more.
She went to fetch water to pour into the vase, hoping the flowers would remain beautiful for a week or two. On Mother’s day, she thought out loud, she would rent a car again and bring her a lovely arrangement.
As she placed the flowers in the vase over the gravesite, she noticed one green flower kept pointing towards the highway away from the front. She chuckled at that thinking that her mom was probably giving her a message. She had chosen this plot facing the highway going towards her favourite shopping mall. Her mother DID love to shop until we all dropped and she was still going.
Maybe it was the sunny day or all the beautiful flowers at different gravesites, but she felt sadder than other times she had been in the other visits here.
filled with budding love
empty heart
missing her mama
filled with budding love
green petals
her favourite colour
empty heart
one day they will meet
fulfilled shall she be
missing her mama
loving was second nature
‘til death shall she feel
© Tournesol’16/04/24Na
NaPoWriMo’16/04/24
Q is for Quack (troiku)
wobbling in a queue
one by one
quacking all the way
wobbling in a queue
with webbed feet
following mother
one by one
splish-splashing water
heading home
quacking all the way
cute ducklings
sail down the river
©Tournesol’16/04/20
P is for poem
life is what she writes about,
liaisons and love affairs,
rife of erotic passages,
relations…some, short-lived,
brief encounters lost too fast,
she’s wept so many salty tears
grief stricken beyond her years
yet, memories of lovers lost
beget in her sweet moments
where pain and suffering will exhaust
and only images
that burn her cheeks
and warm her heart
shall trickle into heated
words in love poems.
(troiku)
first kiss – after,
a decade of solitude
stuff to write poems
first kiss – after,
too many years
like riding a bike
a decade if solitude
spiritual cleansing
looking within
stuff to write poems
always a good tragedy
love, lust and heartbreak
© Tournesol’16/04/19
Blogging from A to Z Challenge
Tournesol dans un Jardin 