Thursday, March 30, 2017


We wait. The oncologist has just been brought an omelette


At the jazz musicians' it's all daisies

Wednesday, March 29, 2017


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


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

Friday, March 24, 2017


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

Thursday, March 23, 2017


reflected in

the shaving mirror

a cactus

Wednesday, March 22, 2017



the gallery's creaking


Tuesday, March 21, 2017


spring equinox

a groundsman marking

out his lines

Monday, March 20, 2017


hood pulled tight

freezing rain among

not yet daffodils

Sunday, March 19, 2017


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 :-)