I finished reading "Just Kids" by Patti Smith. A nice feeling lingered.
I had an empty box of chocolate (my friend in San Francisco had given it to me). When I threw it away, I tore it in pieces. The torn edges caught my eyes, retrieved the pieces, arranged them and scanned them. (image 1 & 2)
On Photoshop, I cropped the scanned image, filled in the right side white space with dark blue (image 2 & 3)
I changed the hue and enhanced color saturation to the maximum (image 4)
At this stage, Patti Smith came to my mind and decided to make a haiga for her. I searched online a right photograph of Patti and her life long partner Robert. (image 5) Then I pasted the photo on the image (image 6).
I then transported the image to Adobe Illustrator, and added color bars and haiku text (image 7)
The night cityscape is that of SF, but resembles that of Manhattan where Patti's story mainly took place. In the letter "San Francisco", only "France" is legible. Patti's preferred poet, Arthur Rimbaud was a French.
21 comments:
the wind is gone -
silence is complicity
fallen petals ...
morning breeze -
bows to the ground
the humble bamboo ...
windblown
and scattered by the wind -
every cloud ...
I think there will never be
at any time
a cold like this ...
drizzle:
colder than ever
a bowl of soup ...
the porch -
sometimes a beetle
sometimes the moonlight ...
wait! wait!
the mist will pass -
behold the milky way ...
before sunset
every cloud
lose their shape ...
after rain
on the lawn
puddles of moonlight ...
morning thrush
sings and tells me -
get up ...
aimlessly -
I could be a star
not for the drizzle ...
now I know -
my journey is shorter
drizzle that ...
step by step
among the gulls
I walk ...
***
white clouds
bring black clouds -
storm in sight ...
***
sleepless night:
goes until the morning
the croaking frog ...
***
sleepless night:
neighbor's dog barks
pace without any ...
***
in recent days
time moves heavy
and a different tone ...
***
a boat
twilight -
many eyes ...
***
is listening to the wind
howling out there?
loneliness is cold ...
older pedestrians
old on the sidewalk -
old pigeons ...
***
on dry land
beyond the leaves -
clouds are dry ...
***
ah! how long!
only now I realize
this slug in the door ..
this world
there is another life
other than this ...
***
the spider weaves
inside the bromeliad
new ways ...
***
whitish grass -
now she crawls
the shape of the moon ...
***
every late afternoon
back and spend the night
northeast wind ...
ah my friend!
I can understand how
this chrysanthemum?
***
offshore wind -
the scent of green corn
takes care of the beach ...
***
hence the balcony
I see many beautiful flowers -
girl's dress ...
***
at daybreak
all flowers in the square
sparkle even more ...
***
all with charm
waiting for the end of the day -
herons spread ...
there is silence
inside man -
only he can hear ...
***
evening -
everything seems so calm
behind the plum ...
***
contemplate the heron
that majestic stretches -
there in the pond ...
incessant -
on new year's eve
fireworks ...
***
also incessant
the end of the old year -
gutters on the porch ...
***
are so many stars -
how can I find them
this fog?
***
green rice field
following the road
is breathtaking ...
***
night watch -
dragging on the pavement
the slug alone ...
***
there in stone
something that enchants -
a dragonfly ...
opens the door
and the look of the girl
has the color of the sky ...
***
unbearable
this wind and also
the lack of it ...
***
rays and more rays -
lightning Hide
all darkness ...
***
hopefully-that-falls
with all the flowers
girl's dress ...
***
as will be
the way I do
during this trip?
makes sense
the shaking dog -
thunder outside ...
***
lakeside
the heron stretches and spy
my arrival ...
***
outside noise
day and night
heavy rain ...
***
useless
with all this wind
the work of dustman ...
***
acacia cut -
in its place was
the starry sky ...
***
the fog
a ship docks -
suddenly the heron ...
***
thunder outside -
here in the night
is the mosquitoes ...
***
now we'll see
the drop of dew
the milky way ...
Thank you for so many of haiku, Iuiz san. The way you write haiku is something new to me.
(-) and (...) in a single haiku make me puzzled about the cutting, for both signify the cutting. Cutting, as I understand, exist only one time in a haiku.
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