Haiku by Voice Readers

transcendent laughter
echoes of an absent friend
smile indelible

ice on an east wind
armorer of branch and stem
murderer of birds

courageous dreamers
at liberty’s golden door
welcomed as vermin

big wheels big engine
defiantly sucking fuel
on road to nowhere

lion behind bars
onlookers too fat to run
too timid to fight

carnage on youtube
flags forever at half mast
guns as solution

evil ascendant
forging fear into hatred
ignorant of time

raging on paper
sophisticated screaming
punching at shadows

Michael Brandt, Arena


I would love to learn
To write Japanese haiku
Perhaps tomorrow.

William Robichaud, Barneveld

White turns to copper
as syzygy completes the
mysterious orb

Full moon in shadow 
appears like a jelly fish
swimming through sea clouds

Movement in tandem
choreographed flight and dive
two pelicans fish     

With one leg outstretched,
balanced, beak pointing to sky
pelican yogi

Whirling, twirling dance
like dervishes in the sky
tree swallows in flight

A whale’s silver fin
pierces the calm blue water
we practice patience

Milky white breakers
Come charging in like lions
manes of ocean spray!

Like Gemini’s stars
we revel in our kinship
twin sisters, best friends

Carolyn White, Mt. Horeb

On the River Seine (A Haiku Journey)

Our flight to Paris
the bearlike man in a wool cap
most frightened of all.

Sunrise in Paris
our boat moored near Eiffel Tower —
strong hot black coffee.

Eiffel Tower tourists,
and seven French soldiers poised
with cold black machine guns.

Van Gogh’s mill at Galette,
we crane to view gardens — blocked
by a beer truck.

85 degrees in April
on the boat deck on the Seine
breathing with Buddha.

Irises in early bloom,
climbing the steep narrow path
to Van Gogh’s grave.

Sleeping on roof ledge
above a small Montmartre café,
tournee du chat noir.
Monet’s water garden
ignoring the tourists —
deep red water lilies.

French café singer
Non, je ne Regrette Rien,
an old woman weeps.

White cliffs above the Seine
even brighter on the water
seven white swans.

Light rain falling
at D-Day Memorial —
boys play war games.

In a pasture near Caen
riddled by bomb craters,
Normande cows eat spring grass.

Honfleur harbor
moored near the fish market,
scent of lilacs.

Fishing village café
before noon, an old woman
sips Bordeaux Petite Verdot.
Free wine in the bar,
an old man can’t find
his way back to the boat.

Late afternoon bottle
of Syrah, she tells the same story
three times in an hour.

Long bus ride to Paris,
as passengers snooze,
tour guide savors a macaron.

Escargot in garlic and
wine sauce — one woman
eats just buttered bread.

Fields and fields of yellow
canola flowers, but not
a single red poppy.

Lost in Roissy,
we walk past a cemetery
and through a Japanese garden.

Last night in Paris,
walking from the pizza café
under a full moon.

Jerry McGinley, Waunakee