Nearly Spring Haiku

nearly spring

Most likely I am guilty of slaughtering a venerable form of Japanese poetry. But I must admit to loving the simplicity, the challenge and the possibilities for humor and juxtaposition that Haiku provides.

It is Nearly Spring here in my little part of Canada, that aching time of seasonal limbo when we hover between the lingering cold and the coming green. A lot of snow has melted, yes, but certainly not all. The ground that has appeared again isn’t green but grey. The trees still look bare except if you examine them closely, then they reveal their humble bud beginnings.

These Haiku poems I share today are a form of therapy for me during Nearly Spring. I confess to eagerly awaiting True Spring with only tiny shreds of patience. These humble lines of five syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables help me cope.

Nearly Spring Haiku 2018

Spring ready to leap
But winter will not release
Its icy talons

Have you every thought
Spring sprung in February?
Poor befuddled fool

Snow post March twenty
Feels like a wet soggy slap
Across your bare cheek

Brownish greyish gunk
Never looked so beautiful
As on a thaw day

The snow blanket goes
Revealing the plows scrappings
Suburb detritus

Melted mini-lakes
Make some of the sidewalks seem
The place for canoes

Tiny buds appear
At the tree branch fingertips
Peeking at the sun

Spring surprise party
As things hidden for long months
Grin at us again

Green will soon o’er take
Winter’s ice-blue dominance
Time guarantees it

by Ronald Kok, March 24, 2018

A Year of Creating Dangerously, Day 68: Winter Haiku

A couple of years ago, after the coldest February in Ottawa ever recorded (daily low average temp was a frigid -21 c) I posted this article containing Winter Haiku. As we endure winter’s last gasps here in Canada, I thought it appropriate to share these pithy poems again…

Haiku is a Japanese form of poetry, three lines of unrhymed verse, normally in the pattern of five syllables, seven syllables, five syllables respectively. There are many ways we try to keep winter at bay in this part of the world but perhaps poetry is the least prosaic way of all. I have included a few written by my wife Monique (noted in the text). The rest are my own.

May these simple lines assist you to awake from your frozen slumber to a Spring that will undoubtedly dawn… sometime… we hope.

Winter Haiku

Shovel snow today
Shovel tomorrow; repeat
Sisyphus digs it

Frozen face and hands
Imagine how cold I’d be
If I was outside

Groundhog is sleeping
Just leave him alone already
He knows nothing
(Monique)

Hundred words for snow
They say the Inuit have
They only have four
(Monique)

My butt is frozen
How’s that even possible?
It’s insulated
(Monique)

Chickadees thrive here
Tiny feathery fluff balls
Without furnace heat

Too cold for the geese
Though Canadian they be
Is too friggin’ cold

The lake is ice hard
But soon we’ll cut through it with ease
Doing the backstroke
(Monique)

We skate on a lake
Where just a few months ago
We were swimming
(Monique)

Layers of flannel
Wool socks, three blankets, too
Makes making love hot

Winter’s grip is hard
Its breath is sheer bitterness
It needs to chillax

We gripe and complain
Yet without Jack’s Frostiness
There’s no Great White North

When comes the icing
The ponds and lakes and rivers
Become hockeyland

My cold car won’t start
But it’s tough to get upset
It needs a day off

You can see my breath
The only visible sign
That I’m still alive

The days get shorter
While frigid nights get longer
Sun is so precious

Shimmering display
Nature crowned with white glory
Beauty can be cold

It’s hard to believe
Beneath the snowy stratum
Lies Spring awaiting

Winter Haiku

We just got through a February in Ottawa that was the coldest ever recorded in this part of the world. Our daily average low temperature was a frigid -21 c. It seemed appropriate to me to put a long, cold winter in its place with a terse form of verse. I chose Haiku. Haiku is a Japanese form of poetry, three lines of unrhymed verse, normally in the pattern of five syllables, seven syllables, five syllables respectively. There are many ways we try to keep winter at bay but perhaps poetry is the least prosaic way of all. I have included a few written by my wife Monique (noted in the text). The rest are my own.

May these simple lines assist you to awake from your frozen slumber to a Spring that will undoubtedly dawn… sometime… we hope.