Wednesday, April 12, 2017

011

My father or my father the vicar. My mother or my mother (reluctantly) the vicar's wife     clouded mirror     questions it's too late to ask 
    

Thursday, March 30, 2017

010

We wait. The oncologist has just been brought an omelette
 

009

At the jazz musicians' it's all daisies
 

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

008

A horror of being the centre of attention. Must be why I've not (yet) had a wedding. Or a serious illness
 

Saturday, March 25, 2017

007

Life is trying to kill us. Often as not, our own bodies are trying to kill us
 

Friday, March 24, 2017

006

The tree contained in the seed. Somewhere in pear blossom, the gibbous moon
   

Thursday, March 23, 2017

005

reflected in

the shaving mirror

a cactus
 

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

004

retrospective

the gallery's creaking

floorboards
 

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

003

spring equinox

a groundsman marking

out his lines
 

Monday, March 20, 2017

002

hood pulled tight

freezing rain among

not yet daffodils
   

Sunday, March 19, 2017

001

Haiku is that moment when, across all that is going on, you and the universe catch each other's eye. 

Welcome to Beachcombing for the Landlocked. The new one. I don't know why I decided to discontinue the old one and start again from scratch; I'm sure I had good reasons at the time, I just can't remember what they were. Anyway, it's done now. We are where we are.

Here are a few ku that fell down the gap between BftL incarnations.


1. a christmas ku


shrugged off

my jacket ate

a satsuma



2. a building site ku


holiday weekend

shovel stuck in

a heap of wet sand



3. a drive-by ku


rip at the knee

of her jeans

& a tattoo there



4. a car park ku


through ivy

"... heel clamping

in opera ..."



There you go. Up to date. Seamless continuity :-)