Starting a new series, the Feast of the Senses. Submissions for this series are still open and the deadline has been extended till 20 June 2023. Send us your finest.
Check the submission guidelines HERE
Haiku by Barbara Anna Gaiardoni (Verona – Italy)
the dive
Into spring colors
soft macarons
summer nights …
shapes reminiscent
of marine corals
Reminder – submissions are open for the Feast of the Senses. Deadline – end of May. Check the submission guidelines HERE
Feedspot has listed the 25 best haiku blogs to follow in 2023 and your own Cafe Haiku is on the list.
For your convenience, all the major sites are listed in one place so that you can check them out. They say they ranked the sites by ‘rankings, social media followings and freshness’. The list is comprehensive so do book mark the page and keep it handy.
The link is here – Top 25 Haiku Blogs To Follow
Pre-moon
Our poet’s collective has never attempted a moon-gazing and group write before. And the flower moon seems perfect. Understandably there are doubts… Everything that had to be written has been; will mine cut it; what if it’s cloudy? (our Chennai based members, faced with the rare spectre of a summer cyclone). Add a viral flu that has swept Mumbai and all my dreams of taking a sleeping bag to Rohini’s terrace by the sea are shot.
I leave it to the benevolence of the Buddha, who smiles on any who wishes to bask and immerse in the light.
orange zest
too soon the
melt into memory
Forbidden Flower
D night arrives with the news of a lunar eclipse until 1 am, followed by the Buddha Poornima flower moon.
‘It is bad joss to look at the eclipsed moon. Only astronomers are permitted. You need to rest.’
When eyebrow shimmies don’t cut it, I subside, warm in the knowledge that the moon will look exactly the same the following night.
Buddha chants
my mind’s leap
from orange to lapis
Hallelujah
There she is, larger than life itself. Flying low on the horizon, ducking in and out from behind trees, a step ahead of every traffic light. How I could embrace her, devour her with every pore, every sense. She must know how I have ached and waited just to behold her. And when I reach the diner at journey’s end, there she waits, gorgeous in orange-gold. How I wish I could take her home.
garden lamps
the warm glow
of quiet grass
Dr Brijesh Raj
buddha moon
this quiet heartbreak
of losing
a father to his
ageing heart muscles
flower moon
this May breeze has no sense
of romance
secondhand moon
hoping the flowers last
one more pooja
yellowing the puja flowers thrown away at moonset
ripe yellow
among the jack-leaves
morning moon
night three
the moon and the flowers
both wilted
Raamesh Gowri Raghavan
flower moon
the shaven head
of an elderly widow
balmy night-
a flower moon adorns
the hilltop shrine
Chitra Pournami
Day long pujas and the hum of Vishnu Sahasranam and the Shanti Mantra reverberate in the tiny temple. The palanquin is readied with strings of jasmine, tulsi and pink oleander. And then, as the night deepens, amidst a blaze of flaming torches and fireworks, the Lord descends down the steps of the hill. In the village below, the households make offerings of ripening banana bunches. Finally the palanquin crosses over the river bank for the ritual dip.
midnight –
the river longing
for the flower moon
Chitra Pournami: The full moon celebrated in the Tamil month of Chitra.
Vidya Venkatramani
I scour the sky-
to spot the flower moon-
lunar eclipse
in the stream-
his bald pate
and a flower moon
Sandra Martyres
snagged
on the power lines
thick clouds
and perhaps, a moon
imaging an absent moon satori
Geethanjali Rajan
Reminder – submissions are open for the Feast of the Senses. Deadline – end of May. Check the submission guidelines HERE
The Spring Issue of the World Haiku Review is out – a feast of haiku and haibun. Its been a long time coming but here it is — a big issue for your reading pleasure. Enjoy.
You can read it here – WHR Spring 2023 Issue
Reminder – submissions are open for the Feast of the Senses. Deadline – end of May. Check the submission guidelines HERE
Micro Haibun by Dr Brijesh Raj
Debridement
Layers are excoriated with the deliberation of a Guasha expert. Each step releasing a memory, until crumbling brick and inflamed iron lie exposed. Do the workmen know what they have set out to cure?
fallen trunk
cobwebs hold
the bark together
Somnolence
The leveller runs down the spine of the freshly cemented, old column. I almost hear a sigh. My gaze turns to the sticker of Goddess Laxmi, still resplendent ten Diwalis post abandonment.
childhood home
if only
and yet…
Cost of Loving
A wry smile accompanies her choice of long sleeved t-shirt. The scratch marks on her arms are too fresh and livid, and the job too new. Hopefully, he will grow up soon and the claws will become less sharp.
hickey
a familiar flaming
of lies
Wintered Warmth
She marches up to me, purring precedence over Netflix. We touch noses, twice. Her signature mock love-bite later, she tastes the air for my scent. Subsides for a leisurely wash.
decades later
the aroma
of mother’s cooking
Hourglass
The masseuse’s probing fingers only find bony prominences. The once mighty muscles have long made way for memories.
migrant sunbeam
a teaspoon of time
with a pinch of salt
Sunbeams and Shadows
He unfailingly calls out ‘good evening uncle’ to me each time I visit, regardless of the hour. It’s as if his earnest eyes and thoughts are frozen in time, when I had first treated his puppy.
toy soldiers
his thoughts
his militia
Reminder – submissions are open for the Feast of the Senses. Deadline – end of May. Check the submission guidelines HERE
Micro Haibun and photos by Geethanjali Rajan
Ayutthayya
The headless Buddha statue sits in Padmasana. What gesture were his hands holding when the marauders had chopped off the arms?
the teacher speaks
of balancing the elements
Dhyana mudra
Centuries later, still exposed to rain, wind and sun, the idol rests in meditation.
Ibaraki
I am in a state of complete amazement as we enter the tallest standing bronze Buddha, the Ushiku Daibutsu (around 120m), in an elevator. We look outside at the landscape of the Kanto plains from inside the idol.
all-seeing
a benign smile
from the old monk
Bangkok
On the Chao Praya river, the evening cruise brings a welcome breeze to the stifling heat. Slowly, the city begins to twinkle and suddenly, the majestic temple of Wat Arun appears, lit in golden resplendence.
oohs and ahs
in unison
the cameras flash
Bylakuppe
At the Nandroling monastery, we enter the hall of the Golden Temple to pray to the 60-feet tall and bejeweled figures of Sakhyamuni, Guru Padmasambhava and Buddha Amitayus. They smile benignly at a car-sick, dizzy and dehydrated me.
sphatika prayer beads
a hint of coolness
in the noon stillness
Cafe Haiku 