Huanchaco III - Huanchaco VI

1.26.11
Furious waves crash
The deep black sea overwhelmed
afterwards: stillness

1.27.11
A small dusty room
A vault into ancient days
painted pots tell stories

Marveled eyes stare at
five balls in he air and he
knows there is a God

She plays guitar
to pulsing ocean rhythm
and quiet breeze

1.28.11
City underground
The past dug up and sentiments
brought to the living

1.30.11
Little feet scurry
Red orange hue covers the sand
I ask, ¨Whats the rush?¨

Fat dead sea lion
Two red-headed vultures sit
atop her smooth spine

Mar y arena
Sol y viento. Todo
tacan mi alma
(for Todd. I hope you and beth are doing very well!)

Lima IV, Huanchaco I, Hunchaco II

1.23.11
A lazy sunday
with hot cloudy skies outside
inside: food and cheer!

1.24.11
Waves pound the beach-drums!
And tumbling rocks allpaude
Crabs join claws and dance

Waves of change crash on
my soul like a sandy beach
and a shifting wind

1.25.11
Graceful pelicans
weave between clouds and blue sky
traveling together

The shy sunset hides
but her splender is reavled:
a soft purple hue

Lima III

Tear drops fall to form
an ocean in the bottom
of a Dreamer's well.

"Not all who cry are sad". I think I heard that somewhere. But I think this is more true, "Not all who don't cry are not sad" I said that right here. But then there are always smiles, real ones, the ones that come from the face of a grandfather gazing down on a seven month year old bundle of beauty! And tears come and the well swells and dreams are recognized.

River, Tear, Ocean.
Brook, stream, lake and emotion.
Children, life, motion.

The Preacher man seemed sure.

Lima II

I imagine that
somewhere out there is a tree
with leaves turning red.


Upon contemplating the imagination's pupil I was gladden with the realization that I can be anywhere I have already been or can contrive in my head :)

This is not to say I am not happy where I am, but with a sore ankle and no where to be this is my second day in a row indoors. I think this is the longest I have ever gone without going out doors.

Lima I

Tears wiped and cries hushed
warm milk from generous breasts
calmness overtakes

Smile spreads across
a mother's weary face, as
her baby nurses.

Hot, humid, dust, and
a never fleeting smog but
inside we forget.

Introduction

Haiku is a short Japanese poem. It consists of 17 syllables: 5 in the first line, 7 in the second line and 5 in the last line. Haiku generally has a seasonal reference admits it's content. I am so fascinated with Haiku because of their simplicity and connection with nature. It is a liberating feeling to express a grand idea (which all ideas are) in a few words. This is how I hope to capture my travels in Peru and Bolivia these next couple of months. To understand Haiku in more detail visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haiku, but please know the poetry I attempt to make will not follow these rules to their fullest. Also at times when I am not able to confine my thoughts, emotions, and observations to 17 syllables it is the opposite of liberating, and can be very frustrating, therefore this blog may very well be scattered with ramble.

I look foward to hearing your Haiku and thoughts!

With love.