Christina Nguyen
A Selection of Haiku and Senyru
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outside the cemetery
the utility worker digs his own hole the van touting car wash equipment dirty black boy his Nike t-shirt says “you’ve been owned” |
pink party hat
the silver streaks in daddy's beard magnolia blossoms his hands move to the deep south April 1st making a wish on Jupiter |
children's museum
only one diaper changing station getting to it after the dishes writer's block |
Three Line Haiku...
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Solstice: A Haiku Triptych
winter solstice the last day of chemo winter solstice he signs the divorce papers winter solstice the long howl of the black dog |
school bus stop the park swings left swinging who are we to each other chickadee blogging on attachment parenting the Buddhist mom mountain lake blue eyes clouded with glacial dust |
yogini all the monks bend their vows winter stars the sharp wind through Orion's pants Christmas day the abandoned house unopened |
One Line and Three Line Haiku...
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low-hung clouds touching Monday's underbelly
ambulance siren she whispers a loving-kindness meditation the harbor seal's eyes gathering clouds dubstep bass lines coiled around both feet |
garden mint
seemed like a good idea at the time amethyst dusk crosses the lake broken garage door spring the expensive sound of hail after meditation just the dishes |
broken pieces
of robin's eggs postpartum depression harvest moon pulling a weed from the empty garden I wait to say goodbye to the automated voice |
Three Line Haiku...
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the minute
she mentions it sudden downpour suddenly the sails fall flat-- hecklers Halloween night extra garlic in the sauce |
dusk unasked
fixing the neighbor's fence first snow boots too big this world frantic search for the cell phone in my pocket snowstorm plowing the suburbs before the city |
shooting star...
I still remember her hunger moon a round cracker in each little hand match smoke... and he kissed me good-bye |