Sunsets are more beautiful than dawns. I assert that boldly. Maybe that is because, for many of us, our day’s work is over and we have time to stop and look. Many an evening I have neglected a favourite TV programme or the next chapter of a book just to watch until I can no longer see the back-scatter of sun on the near-horizon clouds. I appreciate the wealth of the day when it is fully realised.
That is why I announced that I wanted jisei – life’s final poetry – in this Showcase. I didn’t really get what I asked for. I got what I got. Oh, there are late October suns, days, dawns, whatever… and do you know what? That’s fine! The wonderful thing about haiku and in-the-moment poetry is that they bring the wealth of the moment in which they were conceived.
I am still looking for new talent to keep the zen space going, by the way. That includes new artwork. This time round, having received nothing, I have gone with images of sunsets. You know why…
Marie Marshall
editor
the zen space
Apology: The vagaries of the platform sometimes create typesetting/formatting problems. In the following Showcase, WordPress has caused some of the spacing marks to show up, despite my having taken all the right steps to correct this.
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Ellen Woods
:
sitting close to you
listening to Vivaldi
heat steams rainy panes
:
flat tire halts movement
you step in to fill the need
I’m dizzy with awe
decades self-sufficient
Calla unfolding, late spring
:
first flowers you gave me
now embraced by compost bin
heat stirs and transforms
:
guards discharged for good
I open the gates for you
heart pounds – hips unleash
:
image framed
honey man grips catch
chinook gasps
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Gerard Sarnat
:
i. On 53rd Wedding Anniversary haiku
At times it’s truly
simple as you are my girl
and I am your guy.
:
ii. Peets’ French Roast Half Decaf haiku
Not petering out
so far, my first regular
recurrent mailorder…
:
iii. My Net Net Non-Yiddish haiku
Flix plots that turn on
your deus ex machina
oy can disappoint.
:
iv. Tel Aviv’s Alexandria Hotel haiku
I’ve reservations
starting 6Nov24
if Trump’s elected.
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Nicholas Klacsanzky
:
trail stones . . .
I count
my identities
:
adding a verse
to the Heart Sutra . . .
mosquito wings
:
spotted orchid . . .
the vows recited
a second time
:
sun shower . . .
my shadow a shadow
of its former self
:
sedge warbler
thanks for letting me feature
on your album
:
closing my eyes
on the subway . . .
the unknown dead
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Shai Afsai
:
stomach knotted tight,
head full of ache –
a workday begins
:
we run about
like dogs,
fouling the earth
:
halls fill with faces
of excitement and worry –
middle school, week one
:
branch-perched owl –
I meet its eyes and walk on,
our heads rotating
:
napping thoughtlessly
in afternoon sun,
pencil and paper put aside
:
tucked in a bed
of snow
the apple orchard sleeps
__________
Roberta Gould
:
In praise of her smile
It equaled sun rise I said
she’s died – where’s morning?
:
A red shouldered hawk
surveys the expanse
little birds stay away from
:
The tree’s festive leaves
tried to enter the parlor
A window stopped them
:
Old man how ardent
and handsome you were
when the alarm clock sounded
:
I eat two suns and potatoes
from an oval plate
at a bus stop
:
Was her mother rich
throwing out mice traps and all
or squeamish like me?
__________
Bengt O Björklund
;
late October sun
feeds the last flowers with light
the garden fire dies
:
raindrops on my face
as I watch wild geese fly south
I’m on my way home
:
there’s a hidden truth
singing in the morning light
frogs and birds hear it
:
so many seagulls
calling the cold rolling waves
by another name
:
suddenly the wind
makes the dry bamboo rattle
a dragonfly soars
:
bending morning light
I can tell the difference
of two men walking
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Michelle V. Alkerton
white sun glows—
her final breath
d i s p e r s e s in air
:
single tear pools
on the edge of her life…
sudden stillness
:
speaking of the dead
our breaths blanket
cold fog
:
empty parking space
the boy spikes his football
off her memory
:
just that
a remembered fire
sparks in her eyes
:
polished stone—
smooth curves of her memory
rubbed in my palm
__________
John Valentine
Language
Hold on to the center.
– Lao-tzu
:
Isn’t it like running
headlong
into an early morning
spider web
and the more you
try to shake it loose,
the more it clings,
binds itself to your being?
Begin by doing nothing.
Does the wind rattle its bones
in desire?
Everything eases.
Take comfort in the spider who
weaves the silken strings
only as a means
to things themselves
and sits all day at his lyre
unencumbered
by the music of the wind.
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The next Showcase at the zen space will be Spring 2023 which will be released, subject to karma, on 1st April 2023.
Please note that the copyright of all written work and images used in this Showcase and elsewhere in the zen space is held by the creating author/artist, even when not explicitly stated, and may not be used elsewhere without permission.
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