Haiku
Traditional Japanese haiku follow a formal structure of 17 syllables divided over three lines that capture an illumined moment in time. My haiku are ‘modern’ in the sense that they are do not follow a strict form, instead attempting what to me has always been the essence, the distillation of poetry – to express as much as possible with as little as possible.
© James Magill
1972:
“I’m dead serious”, I said
and fell out of the chair.
2003:
long after the tornado
a rising midnight wind
still snaps me awake.
2013:
trumpeting geese…
my breath moves their wings
2018:
patter of forest drip
grateful applause of trees
after rain
——— ≈ ———
the rain dreams
of the ocean
2021:
new paper
fresh ink
await first blossom
2022:
winter wind
new titanium knees
walking
——— ≈ ———
bear in the back yard
warm winter
——— ≈ ———
a boy, a girl,
plain-featured
with youth’s beauty
——— ≈ ———
fallen petals
from the Valentine’s bouquet
——— ≈ ———
summer evening
silence of distant fireworks
——— ≈ ———
hot tub steamrise
falling snow vanishing
——— ≈ ——–
cosmetics label in French
made in Milwaukee
ooh la la
——— ≈ ——–
the meeting cancelled
shifting my feet
in snow
——— ≈ ——–
rain-spattered page:
words open
to the sky
——— ≈ ———
hummingbird
snail
the pace of life
——— ≈ ———
a stick
clears my window’s
winter cobwebs
——— ≈ ———
roadkill on the sidewalk
feeding crow lifts its head
no, a buzzard!
——— ≈ ———
cat’s whiskers
in morning sun
they’re so long!
——— ≈ ———
much from little
haiku big bang
.
moon at dawn
bright smudge
behind pink clouds
——— ≈ ———
azaleas
full-bloom
while I wasn’t looking!
——— ≈ ———
after the reading
empty room still full
of poetry
(for Gary Snyder)
——— ≈ ———
flowering pink dogwood:
slow explosion of life.
——— ≈ ———
blustery day
surf pounds, wind chimes crash
again, and again
——— ≈ ———
the tiny child
speaking Portuguese
humbles me
——— ≈ ———
from the tallest tree
a beetle falls
bounces, walks away
——— ≈ ———
absent father:
the singing toddler
kisses his photo
——— ≈ ———-
on the hood
after the carwash
waterbeads tremble in the wind
——— ≈ ———-
sunbeam
sends this moment
into the universe
——— ≈ ———
doing my taxes
I look up:
cardinal at the window
——— ≈ ———
on the balcony
toasting her ‘meteoric’ rise
falling stars
——— ≈ ———
fresh-cut grass
smell of wild onions
——— ≈ ———
spring snow flurries:
tiny stars
against my shirt
——– ≈ ———
mama and cubs
in our yard
the bear-way freeway
——— ≈ ———
galaxies’ ancient light
the Beginning
made visible
——— ≈ ———
hiss of falling flakes
on the snowdrift
stillness
——— ≈ ———
spring leaves on
the backyard maples
shade after bare winter
——— ≈ ———
writing,
striving for melancholy,
succeeding
——— ≈ ———
sick and tired
——— ≈ ———
distant galaxies
wheel in
a dewdrop
.
jogger passes my bench
her ponytail bounce
——— ≈ ———
crow-jabber
in distant trees
so much to talk about!
——— ≈ ———
midnight lawnchair
Milky Way
shivers in the dark
——— ≈ ———
dozing with
a cardboard sign
horn-tap brings him running
——— ≈ ———
birdsong rising
the morning chorus
——— ≈ ———
after the argument
smell of ozone
2023:
new year’s
snowmelt
off the christmas lights
2024:
before the bow
touches strings
vast silence
——— ≈ ———
new moon
in a branch-bower cradle
——— ≈ ———
head in hand
my skull smooth
as the coming dawn
——— ≈ ———
silence
moves
then music
——— ≈ ———
the natural world
is all things.
what is unnatural?
——— ≈ ———
solar eclipse
that night a half-moon
returns the favor
——— ≈ ———
breath discarded
through the flute
lives again
——— ≈ ———
festive wings
on grim pavement
the crushed butterfly
——— ≈ ———
the curve of flesh…
promise
and mystery
——— ≈ ———
flame-edged clouds
cauterized sky
above wounded mountains
(after Hurricane Helene, 2024)