Frankly, the ides of August have found haikuEsq and dagosan mired in the sloth of summer — poetry has been as difficult to birth as punditry. To no one’s surprise, however, our energetic Honored Guest and haijin friend Ed Markowski has returned from a haiku vacation as inspired and productive as ever.
It’s a lot easier to nap-in-peace with guys like Ed on deck or at bat. Here are some of his recently-penned one-breath gems:
thunder
the black lab’s bark descends
into a whimper
lightning
i lose control
of the jigsaw
lazy afternoon
i even toss the keepers
back into the stream
summer night
two moths flutter down a moonbeam
to the porchlight
summer sunset
my grandson’s right hand
popsicle orange
crows
the buzz of electricity
surging through the power lines
loneliness
a fly circles
& settles elsewhere
Of course, baseball is never far from Ed’s mind in
summer — and, in this year of the miraculous
Tigers — perhaps even well into fall.
little league
the third baseman
distracted by his mother
beer league softball
a pitch down the middle
brushes the batter’s stomach
hazy moon
a cloud of dust drifts from third base
to the pitcher’s mound
. . . . by Ed Markowski
f/k/a‘s Baseball Haiku Page is always available, if
you need to connect to your inner shortstop. You’ll
find a couple dozen baseball haiku and senryu by
Ed Markowski, along with a selection from quite a
few members of the f/k/a Haiku Team. For example:
bases loaded
a full moon clears
the right field fence
the foul ball lands
in an empty seat
summer’s end
. . . by Tom Painting
“bases loaded” from the haiku chapbook piano practice
“the foul balls lands”- Modern Haiku 35:2
empty baseball field
a dandelion seed floats through
the strike zone
score tied
both team jerseys look the same
in the August twilight
. . . by George Swede from Almost Unseen
behind in the count –
“Skip” spits and stares
harder
my nephew’s fastball –
I hand back his glove
and keep the sting
. . . by Barry George
“my nephew’s fastball” – bottle rockets #11
”behind in the court” – tinywords
sting
of the old man’s
fastball
my so-called friends
send in my sister
to pinch-hit for me
. . . by John Stevenson
”extra innings” – Quiet Enough
“sting” – Upstate Dim Sum (2005/II)
yard sign punditry