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All Poems

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How admirable

© Matsuo Basho

How admirable!
to see lightning and not think
life is fleeting.

What fish feel

© Matsuo Basho

What fish feel,
birds feel, I don't know--
the year ending.

Moonlight slanting

© Matsuo Basho

Moonlight slanting
through the bamboo grove;
a cuckoo crying.

Stillness

© Matsuo Basho

Stillness--
the cicada's cry
drills into the rocks.

A snowy morning

© Matsuo Basho

A snowy morning--
by myself,
chewing on dried salmon.

Taking a nap

© Matsuo Basho

Taking a nap,
feet planted
against a cool wall.

Awake at night

© Matsuo Basho

Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold.

Winter garden

© Matsuo Basho

Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.

A cicada shell

© Matsuo Basho

A cicada shell;
it sang itself
utterly away.

Autumn moonlight

© Matsuo Basho

Autumn moonlight--
a worm digs silently
into the chestnut.

Winter solitude

© Matsuo Basho

Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.

The oak tree

© Matsuo Basho

The oak tree:
not interested
in cherry blossoms.

First day of spring

© Matsuo Basho

First day of spring--
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.

The dragonfly

© Matsuo Basho

The dragonfly
can't quite land
on that blade of grass.

The old pond

© Matsuo Basho

Following are several translations
of the 'Old Pond' poem, which may be
the most famous of all haiku:

A bee

© Matsuo Basho

A bee
staggers out
of the peony.

What Do You Do About Dry Periods In Your Writing?

© Richard Jones

When the writing is going well,
I am a prince in a desert palace,
fountains flowing in the garden.
I lean an elbow on a velvet pillow

Letter Of Recommendation From My Father To My Future Wife

© Richard Jones

During the war, I was in China.
Every night we blew the world to hell.
The sky was purple and yellow
like his favorite shirt.

How Did You Meet Your Wife?

© Richard Jones

Swimming the English Channel,
struggling to make it to Calais,
I swam into Laura halfway across.
My body oiled for warmth,

Tree

© Richard Jones

When the sun goes down
I have my first drink
standing in the yard,
talking to my neighbor

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