Summer is winding down here in the northern hemisphere and tinywords 20.1 has now ended with Ann K. Schwader’s haiku “in the space”.
The submission window for tinywords 20.2 opened on August 1st so if you haven’t yet, you still have about half of August left to send us your small poems, haiga, or brief haibun to be considered for our next issue: tinywords 20.2.
Sending work to tinywords is a simple two-step process. Just check out our Guidelines?and click on the?Submissions Page?from Aug. 1 through Aug. 31, 2020. One month window, as usual.
To keep things lively while we work on the new issue, we present a new writing prompt. This image of a green oasis between apartment buildings was captured in Beirut, Lebanon. One thing this image might say is that nature is adaptable. These trees seem to be in solidarity with one another. But you might see something else entirely. Be sure to share it with us. Why not pen a tiny original poem or two in response to this glimpse of nature in the midst of an urban landscape?? ?Leave your best efforts in the comment box below and the tinywords editorial team will share the best of the best in tinywords 20.2, due out in late September 2020.
Thanks again for dropping by. We look forward to reading what you?have?to say.
In solidarity,
The Editors
Constrained yet reaching
always for the light – courtyard
tree breathing thru concrete
sunstripes
a child weaves
into the forest
Alan Summers
alley breeze
a leaf finds its place
on the sidewalk
apple pie…
the journey comes back
to my childhood
Trees kiss between buildings…
They don't care.
global warfare
if only we had
a spare
Beirut the leaves that remain still trembling
Beirut / the leaves that remain / still trembling
Solidarity
branches entwine
in an arc of strength
Through the looking class
Life with love enshrined in
bits and pieces
lockdown …
two trees holding on
to their leaves
.
all my secrets
whispered
to one who cares
in a thousand years
saplings
or rubble?
greenery abound
senior citizen homes
uncared for corona fears
among all the grey the cedars of Lebanon
back in the city crunch of granny?s apple crumble
remembering
our formative roots
buried deep in the past
alone in the city
the leafy green embrace
of sidewalk trees
six trees
flaring green
against concrete
we promise to stay
in touch—
thirty years later
our cheeks brush
a shade lifts
in the shadow
of buildings the shadows
of trees
Through the green class
Life with love enshrined in
bits and pieces
corona time
true green provides
umbrella shield
empty sidewalks
the sound of a soft breeze
shushing the trees
sun bleached canyons
an albizia grove scents
the city
how quick we forget
explosions of malfeasance
trees roots dig deeper
leaning in
to a kiss . . . the lucky ones
still able to touch
linden scent
through a window
the echo of riots
I gave this a thumbs up right off the bat. And am surprised it doesn't have more. This is a wonderful haiku that could easily get accepted into a journal. Linden scent is often used to relieve stress, so the juxtaposition with the last line is especially powerful. I love it.
Beirut explosion
sheltered between buildings
a huddle of trees
I realized this needed an em dash:
Beirut explosion—
sheltered between buildings
a huddle of trees
touching you is wonderful
I am still tingling
all over
leaning into
the meshing of our roots…
pandemic
shuttered windows
trees stand together
in prayer
evergreen. . .
adjacent rooms
in the care home
geometric grey
measured by scale
burst of green
cityscape
trees soften
our fears
deeply rooted
the memories
of survivors
grey canvas …
the creator dropped
some paint
solidarity
the courage
to stand together
rushing headlong
into the day until
the trees
I love how the momentum of the haiku is arrested in the last, unexpected line
Bowing trunks, extending branches
Glossy green leaves like love notes
Touching hearts a world apart
running for miles
the roots of trees
hold their ground
city trees–
the roots of peace sunk deep
in the shaken ground
shaky ground…
held together
by the roots of trees
high-rises
that small window
of sunlight
take your kid to work day
we project-manage
roly-polies
piano at sunset
a caterpillar straddling
trees
one a white canvass green shares life
Oops–I noticed the typo after submitting this. Sorry! Will submit the corrected version.
Karen
on a white canvass green shares life
By Karen O'Leary
isolation ?
in the distance between us
trees holding hands
.
locked down –
to breathe
or not
.
gang warfare
playground secret-sharing
of conker tactics
skyscrapers
muted talks
blossoms transmit
apple pie…
the journey circles back
to childhood
Alan Summers
his smile lost
in the alleyways of mind
leaf shadows
compromise
both sides
reaching out
geodesic dome
the concrete
encroaching
Twin trees…
even memories cannot recall
their frame
its burning
drenched by late rain
smoulders in the debris
Huddled together
against man-made destruction
God-made still standing
Huddled together
amid man-made destruction
God-made still standing
scent of bread
a little bit of green
daily needs
leaning in
for a kiss
care home window
balancing the gray…chi of green
a green line
through the stones
finding a way
at the heart
of a concrete jungle
a yin tree a yang tree
steeping
in our green tea
high-rise shadows
broken skyline
fragments
of birdsong
under the city
old growth
roots
in the back alley
whispers
of trees
rooftop garden
a farmer's daughter
cracks the ceiling
urbanisation –
shadows lost
under the skyscrapers
between gray walls
the green touch
of a stranger’s smile
oops, I seem to have "liked" my own haiku. I didn't mean to and can't seem to remove it.
(It seems to happen automatically -my apologies)
big city
the soothing shade
of twin trees
a tentative smile
on her firm face
green leaves
cracking
the urban grey
green threes
interlocked –
artificial versus
natural beauty
but for the breeze
through friendly trees
urban desert
tree
a green comma …
city skyline
I really like this idea/image.
What about making it into two segments (rather than three) – something like:
green comma
a single tree
on the city skyline
nature finds a way
new life sprouts
in the concrete desert
building trust shared leaves
unbroken shadows. unpeopled streets. greener greens
green pressing close
amid glass and steel jungle
we're all family
the red horizon
in a puddle
darkened street
listening to
forty shades of green
earth day
This is a really nice haiku. I think if you had posted earlier on in the exercise, you would have received many more points.
under my window
singing birds
behind green leaves
thunder rumbles
through the canyon
quivering leaves
hiding
in plain sight
the resistance
heaven . . .
inward
not upward
oasis kissed leaves
in lieu of trim offer
sunshade solace
Michelle Kogan
Thanks!
age before beauty
a short walk
on the bright side
split ends…
that powerful realisation
that leads to love
colourblind
dog paints walls and trees
darker grey