my father's funeral
at last
I meet him

—Petar Tchouhov
        

About the author: I live in Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, in Eastern Europe, where I write poetry, short stories and novels, music and lyrics, and play guitar for various rock bands. My haiku are published in Frogpond, Haiku Presence, Ginyu, World Haiku 2006, Simply Haiku, Full Moon, Roadrunner, Haikuworld, and Mainichi Daily News. I like comic books, rodents, traveling, and beer.

contact: cheshoboy at yahoo dot com

 

Responses to the haiku for 8 June 2006 by Petar Tchouhov

  1.  
    2006-06-08 01:37:20
     

    I enjoyed this haiku very much. Mine has a different slant:

    the rain
    almost a friend
    this funeral

    This was initially written about my father's funeral, but has been adopted by others.

    Thank you for your haiku and I look forward to seeing more.

  2.  
    Angelika Wienert
    2006-06-08 06:54:48
     

    a sad truth


    with a sigh,
    Angelika

  3.  
    Bill Kenney
    2006-06-08 08:37:01
     

    Suggests a story and a world, Petar.

    old photo
    who is the baby
    my father holds

  4.  
    p bodhi
    2006-06-08 12:15:51
     

    on the money. hits the bulls eye.


    eulogy...
    a golden crow sits
    on the chapel windowsill

  5.  
    Gerald Hodge
    2006-06-08 13:59:56
     

    Thank you, Petar
    It evoked my own memory:

    my father died:
    this is the month
    robins depart.

  6.  
    Kujtim
    2006-06-08 16:16:47
     

    Petar, everywhere the heartache is bitterly.

    the mother's death
    fallen star
    eternally...

  7.  
    sylvain moret
    2006-06-08 18:17:28
     

    kujtim,
    always a pleasure to read your comments.
    what is the national dish of albania?

    peter, provocative, well drawn.

    p. bodhi, brilliant. the eulogy really is
    nothing more than verbal stained glass, a
    distortion of the facts.



    nightsnow
    i edit the text
    of father's eulogy

  8.  
    Petar
    2006-06-09 09:59:33
     

    Thank you all for your kind comments.
    Best regards from Bulgaria.

    Petar

  9.  
    b. m. richardson (orgbob at webtv dot net)
    2006-06-10 09:54:33
     

    the ancient
    gnarled peach tree--
    now fallen by the worm

    ---


    issa-

    i, who outlived him
    in the dewy
    field

  10.  
    Judith Ingram
    2006-06-14 10:34:40
     

    My father died when I was 12. He was 44.


    In his coffin,
    I see my father
    breath.

  11.  
    b.m.r.
    2009-06-18 19:50:09
     

    death, in some way the end of a day, though some end at noon, while others leave off at dawn; comes midnight, the cross-over time, i peer through the partially closed blinds...

    -

    her hello
    day before summer
    turns to winter's farewell

  12.