Inner Sanctum

Leaf 361 – Reflections

 

To my mind at least, magnolia trees bursting into bloom herald the true onset of Spring each year. The magnolia in the two accompanying photographs is in Hampstead, near Keats Grove. Curiously, due to their longevity as a species, magnolia trees are pollinated by insects, such as beetles, rather than bees.

 

 

An ant in its

inner sanctum

– flowering magnolia.

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikuchallenge writing prompt: sanctum.

Photographs by Tim Chamberlain

Jet Trails

Leaf 360 – Reflections

 

I was recently reading Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat (1889). And there’s a sentence in it where he describes sailing fast on water as feeling like flying, or at least “the closest we’ve yet come to it.” – It’s hard to imagine now what the world would have been like before contrails constantly criss-crossed our skies.

 

 

Jet trails

                chasing

each other

                across

the sky – 

 

well-worn paths.

 

Photograph by Tim Chamberlain

Skywards

Leaf 359 – Art Inspired

 

Carl Holsøe - Interior with Cello

A haiku as homage, inspired by Jacqueline Du Pré’s famous interpretation of Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85.

 

 

Sound

of a cello –

soaring skywards.

Jacqueline Du Pré’ - Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85. 

(first movement), 1967.

 

Amber

Leaf 358 – Looking Back

 

Amber was named for the colour of his tummy fur. If I slapped my thigh, one-two, he’d come running like a dog. But he was more of a pal than a pet. The same age as me, he always slept on my bed. He passed away very peacefully at the grand old age of twenty-one, lying curled up on the lawn in the summer sun with his eyes closed – purring until the last.

 

 

Closed eyes –

feeling the soft hum

of a cat’s contentment.

 

 

 

Starry Night

Leaf 357 – Art Inspired

 

Vincent Van Gogh - The Starry Night (1889)

I remember reading somewhere once, a theory that the reason some of Van Gogh’s paintings are so vividly coloured may have been due to his habit of drinking absinthe – the enchanted and enchanting, psychotropic fluttering green fairy of Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Moulin Rouge!’  (2001). Van Gogh painted the scene from his bedroom window at the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in June 1889, after a severe mental breakdown. The stylised nature and exaggerated elements of the painting have prompted all sorts of speculation: astronomical, psychological, theological, etc. However, Van Gogh himself told his brother, Theo, that he thought the painting was a failure.

 

 

Overhead –

the starry night’s

absinthe-tinted glow.

 

 

 

Hospital Horrorfest

Leaf 356 – Art Inspired

 

Following on from the excursion of Leaf 355 into the sub-genre of ‘Sci-Fi-Ku,’ this Leaf has taken a distinct wrong turn into another little-known, twilit backwater of the modern English haiku world – the fright fest of ‘Horror Senryu!’

Until I first stumbled upon this phenomenon on Bluesky, it was an aspect of modern haiku of which I was wholly unaware. And I have to confess, I am not a huge fan of horror films or novels per se. It’s not a genre I follow. But, like all hapless curious souls, I sometimes succumb to a morbid curiosity and can’t help wondering “what’s in the box?” – and so I take a quick peek, only to find my squeamish faintheart regretting it and beating a hasty retreat. But game for the challenge, I decided to see if I could pen a ‘horror senryu’ of my own. Taking my inspiration from an advert for a ‘Fright Fest’ horror film season which aired a few years ago on Film4, much to my surprise I found myself scribbling the following freaky Friday-ish linked verse. A series of horrific-haiku, cold-filtered from my single greatest fear (hospitals!), pooling itself like a fresh puddle of blood beneath the operating table. Read on with all due caution, especially if you are at all of a nervous disposition …

 

CLOSED WARD

 

A white lab coat

and surgical mask

– two smiling eyes.

 

A syringe held by a

latex gloved hand –

over the stirrup chair.

A lungful

of laughing gas –

to gag the hurt.

 

Waking up

woozy –

touched by the nurse.

Who closes the curtains

about the bed –

and tightens the straps.

 

She whispers –

it’s time for some

more medicine …

 

Photo Credit: Marianna Bukowski - Film4 FrightFest (2012)

Red Planet Rescue

Leaf 355 – Art Inspired

 

When I was very young I used to enjoy watching old, classic science fiction movies on television. It was all part and parcel with my early abiding fascination for astronomy and human space exploration, both of which have remained undiminished with me to the present day, serendipitously furnishing me with plenty of material for many haiku, as a fair number of the leaves already posted here on ‘Shinobazu Pond’ will clearly attest. But it wasn’t until I began posting my haiku on Bluesky that I discovered there was a distinct sub-genre of this kind of writing in contemporary English haiku – aptly and affectionately known as ‘Sci-Fi-ku.’ So in an attempt to emulate the seasoned experts piloting this fast, flourishing satellite orbiting the haiku home planet, I thought I would try to pen a poem or two about one of my most favourite sci-fi movies, ‘Robinson Crusoe on Mars’ (1964). Very quickly it expanded into the following linked verse renku.

 

 

MAROONED ON MARS

 

Monkey business

amid the wreckage,

salvaging smarts.

 

Boiling rocks to breathe

underground beneath

wandering fires.

 

A mind foggy with

phosphorus and sulphur –

Robinson Crusoe on Mars:

 

Breaking bonds to

rescue what’s left

of one’s humanity.

 

Solar horizons

expanding with

each orbit.

 

Electron bolts,

blasting red

scorched rock.

 

Stranded

beneath the stars,

encircling an inner sun.

 

Radio waves crackle,

returning

distant voices.

 

Escaping the thin

air of Mars –

Earthlight dawns anew.

 

Crusoe, Mona and Friday –

each taking their turn

at finding a rescue.

Photo Credits: IMDb & Retrozap