Paperclips

In 2001, the Haiku North America conference was held at the Boston Conservatory in Boston, Massachusetts. In the introduction, we wrote the following: “A sheaf of haiku may be held together by a paperclip until the clip grows rusty and stains the paper. But age stains do not accumulate on words containing the images and energy of a well-lived moment, nor does age touch the poet who can consistently find words to illuminate the unseen or the overlooked.” See the Press Here page for this book. Here are twenty-four sample poems, including two translations, from the book.

spring sun—

the carriage horse shakes off

a cloud of dust

                A. C. Missias

                Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

under and over

the creaking pier

a pair of swallows

                Angelee Deodhar

                Chandigarh, India

mall about to close—

from each store the clatter

of clerks counting coins

                Carlos W. Colón

                Shreveport, Louisiana

Good Friday service

A branch of pussywillows

throws spiky shadows

                Carol Purington

                Colrain, Massachusetts

mammogram waiting room

she rips a page

from a magazine

                Carolyn Hall

                San Francisco, California

autumn equinox—

child of my child racing past

without training wheels

                Claire Gallagher

                Sunnyvale, California

the rusted paperclip

has stained my old poem

wind in the eaves

                Cor van den Heuvel

                New York, New York

the puddles they run thru—

the part of the sky

that shakes

                Gary Hotham

                Laurel, Maryland

furuike no kawazu oiyuku ochiba kana

                Buson

     the frog of the ancient pond

grows old—

     fallen leaves

                Haruo Shirane, translator

                New York, New York

Sezannu / iro nusumarete / shiro ajisai

                Himeyo Kamiyama

                Koyama, Tochigi, Japan

Its color stolen

                        by Cézanne

                                           white hydrangea

                Hiroaki Sato, translator

                New York, New York

peeling paint

she sorts the letters

from her youth

                Ion Codrescu

                Constanta, Romania

first warm day—

two old women bring daisies

to a gravesite

                Jim Kacian

                Winchester, Virginia

July swelter

in a paint store

rumba of the mixers

                Judson Evans

                Holbrook, Massachusetts

evening shower

a lightly clothed woman

holding her breasts

                Kaji Aso

                Boston, Massachusetts

heat lightning

the dampness

along her hairline

                Karen Klein

                Cambridge, Massachusetts

away from the party din

Jupiter’s bold shine

among black boughs

                Larry Kimmel

                Colrain, Massachusetts

wild cherry blossoms

the ritual adjustment

of her short skirt

                Lee Gurga

                Lincoln, Illinois

sidewalk sale—

a corner bent over

in the used paperback

                Michael Dylan Welch

                Foster City, California

the NASDAQ plunges—

a dark shadow

between her breasts

                Paul David Mena

                Cochituate, Massachusetts

narrow path

a streak of pollen

on one sleeve

                Peggy Willis Lyles

                Tucker, Georgia

that path again

snow over

last night’s footprints

                Raffael de Gruttola

                Natick, Massachusetts

the rice-planting girl

raises her head

like the heron

                Shokan (Tadashi) Kondō

                Nakano, Japan

the cat’s eyes

     so wide

          for a gnat

                Tom Clausen

                Ithaca, New York

fire in the treetops

the truck races down the street

trailing its hose

                William J. Higginson

                Santa Fe, New Mexico