Excerpt for 47 Haiku by Tiel Aisha Ansari, available in its entirety at Smashwords

47 HAIKUS


by

Tiel Aisha Ansari


Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011, Tiel Aisha Ansari


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The cover image is adapted from a public domain image supplied by Wikimedia Commons. The original is located at http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blackboard_TH.jpg




47 HAIKUS



obsessed and homeless

standing awkwardly in line

at the soup kitchen


salt seaweed perfume

eager fishermen pull nets

caught fish flash in sun


deep-wrinkled willow

shallow sun-sparkling water

fickle wind loves both


bored naive soldiers

at every duty station

gossip about home


tomorrow my breath

will be wind through scattered bone

i will be distance


yearning for cherries

sweet flesh collapsing into

purple-staining juice


random scrawls record

ebb tide's negotiation

with the weight of sand


willow leaves carried

on wind-spoken sentences

flying green serifs


weary survivors pick

bloody glass and steel shards

from still pulsing wounds


brass gleaming like sweat

Dizzy plays bebop changes

in key of B-flat


quarter past midnight

clock hands at ninety degrees

thermometer too


ochre-tinged shadows

the sun's a tarnished penny

in a bowl of milk


a brash redneck saint

at the lube and muffler shop

holds forth salvation


on a busy street

a moment without traffic

the soft hum of bees


mannequins dressed in

sumptuous yet kicky clothes

fondle sleek torsos


mourners ring the graves

to the sound of muffled drums

flags blanket coffins


black velvet ribbon

wrapped around day-blossom stems

held by silver clasp


whispering like silk

spring rain falls all around me

i look up, startled


neglect offends graves

wind and lithe willow branches

sweep the headstones clean


bamboo windchime knocks

winter weather's initials

scratched on my front door


vague enemy glimpsed

in now-shattered windowpane

robin sings triumph


ignore falling fears

orbit weightlessly above

brilliant blue orb


edge of limpid pool

stark with vitreous debris

after winter storm


in warm safe waters

the toad king guards his treasure

nine strands of black pearls


average height, thick neck

long arms and heavy muscle

face scratched, bruised and scarred


jaded tourists view

night-blooming cactus flower

delicate and rare


gentle ocean waves

caress jagged coastal cliffs

ruthless erosion


parallel brick walls

echo mysterious sound

unseen balls bouncing


the water's so clear

pebbles kiss reflected stars

like distant lovers


patrons leave the bar

darkness weakening to dawn

like ink in water


seagull shadows glide

over the snow-dappled sand

and leave no traces


from factory walls

broken windows stare and blink

as pigeons fly out


in dim-lit back rooms

gamblers chainsmoke cigarettes

they cannot afford


the first northbound geese

wedge-shaped trace against the sky

splits winter open


half-erased traces

across an empty meadow

dog's pawprints in dew


radio racket

skipping stations in search of

original ads


framed against black rock

a single dead branch contains

a thousand poems


strings of glass wind-chimes

tokens of unasked questions

silent empty bells


from damaged canvas

saints gaze righteous and lucid

waiting for salvage


half-hidden in grass

a dead crow lies wingbroken

exiled from the air


wind redrawing sky

feathered brush-strokes of white ink

on clean blue paper


wind stroking sagebrush

painting fragrance into sky

above bony hills


crusader banners

shed gloom over kneeling ghosts

transparent victims


handful of dead grass

clutches at pale crescent moon

earth clinging to sky


empty exit ramps

ignored by highway drivers

frame desolate towns


glossy black feather

resting on the hot sidewalk

nearby crow caws twice


grey river flooding

Mississippi holds Memphis

in fathomless arms



About the Author

Tiel Aisha Ansari is a Sufi, martial artist, and data analyst living in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has been presented in print, online, and on the radio. She is the author of the collection Knocking from Inside, available from Ecstatic Exchange. You can visit her at knockingfrominside.blogspot.com


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