day moon —
the poem sounded better
last night
(originally published in ko 27.4, autumn-winter 2012)
Author: Stanford M. Forrester
Stanford M. Forrester is a past president of the Haiku Society of America as well as the editor of bottle rockets: a collection of short verse, which boasts its 14th year in print. Stanford has had poems published in many journals and anthologies worldwide. He perhaps is most proud of his haiku being included in Haiku edited by Peter Washington in the Everyman's Pocket Poetry Series published by Knopf and American Zen: A Gathering of Poets published by Bottomdog Press. In 2004 he took first seat in the 57th Annual Basho Anthology Contest in Ueno, Japan and in 2012, one of his haiku won second place in the International Robert Frost Poetry & Haiku contest.
November walk —
settling for what’s left
of the bittersweet
(2nd Place Winner of the 2012 Robert Frost International Poetry Contest)
not getting my joke
but he smiles anyway—
the stone buddha
deep snow …
the acorn
up to its cap
summer rain …
the frog pees
in my hand
Zen retreat–
i awaken
with a cup of coffee
closed
before i get there …
morning glory
art studio …
an ant’s shadow
traces the peony
morning downpour . . .
only the sound
of the temple bell stays dry
thistle field nothing sticks to the stone buddha
windless afternoon –
at the temple gate
the Wind God’s stare
moon viewing party –
the moon
arrives late
jazz singer’s solo –
the length
of her blue dress
playing army . . .
the little boys fight
over who’s dead
first snow . . .
the spider is evicted
from my boot
forgotten temple —
a yellow flower
offers itself
Temple of Zeus —
in bright light
a stone-carved flower
Athens wind ~
the fish market
the incense vendor
spring morning —
the breeze
in her one curl of hair
x-mas ornaments . . .
a jolly buddha
bends a branch
end of autumn —
finding myself
in a field of thistle
gray autumn sky —
the blackbirds
turn and turn
summer afternoon . . .
the first drops of rain
on my bare feet
backyard sun shower . . .
the windchime song
changes with each cloud
temple bell ringing
one thousand times. . .
winter rain
summer drought-
the Zen garden
in bloom
writing a haiku
in the sand. . .
a wave finishes it