Guest Post From The Masters: Matsuo Basho (happy new year, everyone)

Year’s end, all
corners of this
floating world, swept.

(secrets)

I do not want you
to sleep with her I want you.
What it means to tell. 

(I am sick and listening to Sufjan Stevens)

Most amazing grace:
That hunger is beautiful.
That emptiness fills.

(that woman)

She's a dry cookie.
Lacerates fingers and throats.
No bend, but will break.

(bow pose on top of the bed at midnight [reprised])

Roll left, and then right.
Pillows beneath me, and still
I'm afraid to fall.

(christmas evening, walking westward)

such highs and such lows.
that He martyred him for this.
it must mean something.

(it has been a long year and I am grateful)

fingers scented orange.
warm bread. my brother laughing.
always, there is joy.

(in the meantime, please)

In the meantime, please.
Know that patience comes hard; know
God, that my heart aches.

I am filled empty. 
Nothing left but silence. And
Memory. Too much.

(Arjuna, worried, speaks to Krishna before battle)

It needs to be done.
The right thing for its own sake.
Try; do what you will.

(better luck to Dylan Thomas' dad)

I am Anger me.
Rage, rage on the pillow case
Wretched morning's light

(how to walk across the water)

It is with lilies:
From one pad to another.
My darling, slowly.

(it is our messiness that holds us together, OR this is how a heron builds its home)

"A newly built heron nest is nothing more than a few dozen twigs arranged in the crotch of a tree, a platform about 18 inches wide and so flimsy one can count the eggs from the ground. Over the years, as the birds add sticks that become glued together with gallons of guano, the nest grows into a massive structure solid enough to hold a man."


First: Gathering Times.
Tree's limbs spreading for the tribe. 
Shit, the glue that binds. 

(what it would be like if I could talk and feel like that)*

Get it for yourself.
I ain't gonna bring water.
Man go, death of me.





*inspiration attributed to Joe Purdy

(thank you for reading)

To the "plus one-er":
Thank you. My inspiration
Thrills to your mouse clicks.

(I have taken to drawing a bath)

Friend says: Your own filth. 
You're sitting in it. And so
isn't it, in life?

(upon listing items for sale on Ebay)

I want your money.
It's a cold dog I've become.
Split my hairs; I'll bite.

(I saw a man biking)

Middle-aged and sure.
Bible pressed to handlebars.
Carried him uphill.

(I do not thrive in the suburbs)

Bored, paranoia.
Empty lawns and long commutes.
Few people, much want.

("wanting things is a form of sadness" --Isaac Pressnell)

Sugarplums. A doll.
Good health. Mother's happiness.
Mostly, to feel loved.

(journey to the museum of the absurd)

"A black." Flamingos.
I'D RATHER BE PRUNING!
Oh Meg. We are dropped.

(the desire to give thanks, and other things) [in three parts]

Want fills to the deep.
For so many things; mostly
To give all away.


Why then this clinging!
Mistakes, mistook, mistaken:
Love is letting go.



Lately I am love.
I am the wanting and, yes
I, the salvation.

(Tiny/Miraculous Series, 2)

That the door opened.
That he opened it, smiling.
Simply to have knocked.

(upon which I understand why people love the Grateful Dead)

Magic stereo!
No place I'd rather be, but
Tennessee-- oh, me!

(Tiny/Miraculous Series, 1)

Hundreds of feathers.
Seagulls rest in fallow fields.
Soft breath-waves of white.

(lessons learned while swimming underwater)

Under waves, she knows.
It will be necessary
At some point, to breathe

("Miracles do not, in fact, overcome the laws of nature" --C.S. Lewis)

Turkey buzzards glide.
Something once alive has died.
Hope it was happy.

(the best of things)

Kiss: She planted one.
He tore it up by the roots.
From dirt, gardens grew.

(calligrapher's want)

Clandestine handshakes.
Covert touch on cobblestones.
Dark, secret groping.

(and isn't it so age-old that it almost makes you puke)

I want to; I want--
But of course I cannot make
Manifest: write great.

(Musical Mash-ups VII (I haven't seen in several years))*

Hours perched in the dark.
Waiting for the skies to clear.
Flowers in the park.



*thanks again, Cotton Jones Basket Ride

(who the fuck comes to a water park at 9am on a sunday)

Lifeguards could die here.
I save myself by counting,
backwards alphabets.

(once a young married couple built a play structure for their children. they all grew older.)

Threadbare yellow slide. 
Lichen gobbles wooden ramps.
Quiet. Still standing.

(i do not want to be happy all of the time)

i do not want to
be happy all of the time.
it's enough to be.

(the janitor, the doctor, and me)

Everyone's scared.
What the hell do I hope for?
That you think good thoughts.

(it pays to pay attention during grammar class)

Fully, Will, I ran.
Will Fully ran? I wonder. 
I ran, willfully.

(i can no longer remember the shape of your biceps)

So little is left.
Maybe, your knees. You were smart.
Blue swim trunks in June.

(follow through)

Start me up, start start
me up i'm ending.

(thus far it has covered all of the roots)

From the ground, upward.
Ivy doggedly growing.
Trees slow-motion drown.

(soidisant)

Captive(ate) by(i-) lines
Do you appro- (dis)appear
I aim to kill (please)

(Musical Mash-ups V (our fearless crew was not prepared))*

Keep it together.
Can we keep us together?
Sing a new song, now.


*with thanks and attributions owed to Guster

(Musical Mash-ups IV (i like you mostly late at night))*

hold tight hold tight hold--
slide it back you can be me
raining in my room




*thanks again, Life Without Buildings

(Musical Mash-ups III (the time it takes to change))*

don't trade, don't I don't
if I lose you in the street
break my mind, break it




*with thanks and attributions owed to Life Without Buildings

(this is the sound alive makes)

Truth: I am breaking.
Mid-night: I am re-forming.
Sound of violins.

(it is his birthday he is young and full of promise)

He blows out candles. 
I don't know that dreams come true.
Still we wish, light flames.

(oh absent muse i am sorry for my absence)

Sometimes wells dry up.
Quite often they run again.
It can take a while.

(all that i am is borrowed)

The cat grows hungry.
The cat eats. I fed the cat.
The cat grows bored, leaves.

(rotating)

You did not read them
Illiterate directions
You walked anyway

(creek sunlight water God)

Water bouncing, Green.
Light streamed fluid Heart-fingers.
You crept toward Sun.

("Tell me, Sona," said the Buddha, "when the strings of your lute were too taut, was your lute tuneful and easily playable?") (in two parts)

Certainly not, Lord. 
And when the strings were too loose?
Certainly not, Lord. 


But tell me, Sona,
When born at an even pitch--
Oh God. Such singing.

(Musical Mash-ups II: you were on a stage)*

Swinging your guitar
Around the world they wanted
What you did not owe






*with thanks and attributions owed to Cat Power

(Musical Mashups I: and you see that they're beautiful)*

Birds can fly so high.
"What are you talking about?"
She said. He said, "You."






*with thanks and attributions owed to Kate Nash

("redecorating")

Everything fake.
Empty vase, candles unlit.
A show. Bought. Paid for.

(somewhere between the nascence and the peak)

It is not the edge.
Rather the wind that scares me,
Tearing hands from holds.

(oh holy)

oh music move me
oh move swell burst not-quite burst
oh filled, feeling

(Hanuman (1))

Low son of the wind--
Thinking light a mango, ripe
Eats, and binds the day

Blog update

Hello dear readers,

With great regret-- and with great apology for the time lapsed-- I must inform you that Lunch Break Haiku (if you hadn't deduced it already) will unfortunately be on temporary hiatus until (most likely) the end of the summer. While I was supposed to have regular internet access during my summer employment, it turns out that in reality I have virtually no internet access. I will continue to post updates if and when an opportunity arises, but for the time being regular posting will be an impossibility. Daily haikus will recommence-- with great jubilation!-- at the end of August. Thank you for your patience. Please do come back.

Light and love,

L.V. Newc

(desire means always wanting more than you once had)

I was in with you.
You came into, out of me.
Once filled, not sated.

(with pleading sincerity directed to the inner critic inside of my head)

Pester me no more.
I struggle to build something.
I mean it, this time.

(lifeguarding- #1)

Sunshine. Kids paddling.
Two docks bob by the shore.
Sound: water splashing.

(passing a beautiful woman on the sidewalk)

Her breasts: full bursting.

I crave touch such succulence.

He grasps her hand. Damn.

(the end of the day)

Bowls placed in cupboards.
Late-night kitchen, dim light, still.
Woman sighs, softly.

(reasonable questions with indeterminate modifiers)

The moon shines so bright.
Do you think there's a heaven?
Is it made of cheese?

(great medicine)

Laughter carries us.
To the sea, and tears. Mountains.
Up and over them.

(a study in digraphs)

Breath churns acrid smoke.  
The scent of chilies burning.
Charred wet eyes implode.

(I have searched for you in a thesaurus and I did not find you there)

All "y's" well-reviewed:
"You" yields no equivalents.
I love then, nameless.

Blog update

Dear (dear dear) readers,

As of today (Friday, June 10), Lunch Break Haiku will, most likely, be updated during the weekdays only (this means 5 posts-- or 85 syllables-- per week, instead of the usual 7). For the next couple of weeks, the timing of these weekday posts may stretch the bounds of what could reasonably be called "the lunch hours," as I sort out a new lifestyle in a new environment. That said, I look forward to continuing the (fledgling) tradition of haiku writing on this blog, and I so very much appreciate everyone's readership and support.


With light,

L.V. Newc

(moving to Maine)

Cold city living.
Now rain, light. Now earth rising.
Mountains call me home.

(American Spirit)

I drag cigarettes
For the reminder of you.
Kisses fire, then smoke.

(entomology for beginners)

Each thing meaningful.
See ant as image angel.
Bee, the face of God.

(wading horses suppose no inhibitions)

Sip slow peacefully.
Soft curvatures, sun demure. 
Hooves clink cool creekbeds.

(double entendre question mark)

You come then you sleep.
You came through fear/lonesomeness.
You wake still coming.

("Finish this sentence with a metaphor: I feel like...")

One thousand balloons
Lost from the painted clown's fist.
Up high, air's tighter.

(she pools sad petals)

She pools sad petals.
Kneels head bowed, white weeping draped.
Mountain of flowers.

(New York City bird)

Sparrow, cry so loud!
Do you hunger? Thirst? Need sleep?
Or are you lonely.

(listening to children on the train to New York)

I'm six. Garbage! Grass!
I saw an elephant. Cows!
Let's look for some more!

(returning to Pennsylvania in summertime)

Peas sugar snapping.
Berries, rhubarb cakes and pies.
Hills. Forests. Leaves. Green. 

(spring storm)

Thunder, my top hat.
Lightning pinstripes slick-sheened limbs.
I am dressed with rain.

(she has seen men die)

She has seen men die.
He turned to light. Then I knew. 
We are of the same.

(lest ye be judged)

Do not judge that man,
Who falls deep asleep in church.
Perhaps he dreams God.

(Inanimate Metaphor Series 1)

I'm a laundry bag.
You fill me. Spin, make me wet.
Cycle back to dry.

(the night before they put me to sleep)

Please. I am so scared.
Small alone in this wide bed.
Hoping to wake up.

([bi]polarity)

Boy you toy with me.
Douse me in warm-cold water.
Watch me gasp, dripping.

(unintentional vehicular homicide)

All this was darkness.
Soundtrack of mutilation.
Bodies by Blood Rd.

(first roots, then)

Looking down, walking.
Saw roots, beginnings of trees.
Saw, and raised her head.

(bring everywhere)

Bring everywhere:
A right approach, Sight, paper.
Pens. Your heart. Some snacks.

(in this I see)

There's a part that sheds.
And a part that's there, after.
In this I see God. 

(marries the wind)

Her mouth, hands were leaves.
Fluttering shaking, dance. Fall. 
Wind picks up, she's gone.

(you mar yourself)

I am stuck angry.
Can't sleep, breathe, or let it go.
Gone, still you mar me.

(young professional eating a granola bar while listening to music on the subway)

He chews, listens, nods.
Peels the wrapper further down.
Bites, listens. Nods. Chews.

(lessons learned by listening to Blues Traveler)

You'll get no answer.
Alone (goes on forever).
Mountains always win.

(number 28)

Say what you mean, please.
No more caterpillar lies.
Unwrap them. Let fly.

(walking in public)

Men's eyes possess me.
Change my gait, shy, grow smaller.
Still they undress me.

(spring dropping)

Death swells the water.
Trash flows putrid-hot thru streets.
And flower petals.

(cliches taste better in haiku form)

Don't say that you can't.
Knock. Knock again. Try the knob.
Try another door.

(tire metaphors)

Rubber heart deflates.
Patches, plugs, inner linings.
Dealing with punctures.

(eight years old)

She is small, trying. 

A man sits in a lawn chair.

She tries to please him.

(stepping off the subway during rush hour)

Suitcase slams hard shins.
That trav'ler's a tyrant--  No.
Such weight. He's struggling.

(the painting above my bed)

Eye table nose chair. 

Red flower lips lie alone.

Green is the color. 

(late learning)

I ran so hard, then.
Hurt my legs, my lungs, it all.
No choice, now, but slow.

(you)

Yes, child, chaos reigns.
Still this boundless sky's contained.
See? You are the frame.

(the seeds that I am planting)

They will become-- Strong.
Bright. Lush. Green, ever-changing.
Lilies. Wildflowers.

(what it is to believe it)*

Unbearable weight.
She says, I am loved, she says.
Then sinking, then light.





*Thanks, Mae :)

(written on a pink post-it note in blue ballpoint pen)

A grocery list:
Yogurt. Hummus. Rice. An Orange.
Is the poetry.

(Spring. Night.)

Dark. Courage walking.
In warmth I'm invincible.
... A feeling, only.

(small things)

Burned hand-- cold water.
What if I had no faucet?
Today I'm grateful.

(we're in it together, even when we stink)

Bus brims with people.
Good: I wore deodorant.
Man beside: did not.

Sunday Seconds

Ink on my fingers.
Mud on my hands. Sweat, dripping.
I work. Struggle. Build.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. On May 1, let's remember that it continues to happen

Memories evade.
He yelled, he hit, I was fear--
This, I remember.

(I believe in this)

I believe in this:
There are infinite beliefs.
All fine. This is mine.

(with gratitude to Robert, last I heard in Juvenile Hall)

You create this world.
What color are its tree leaves?
Do you love, often?

(environmentalism can be fun)

I'm a stealth ninja.
Any lights on that could be
Off: dart in. Switch them!

(for kind Frank)

He said, "Hi there stars.
And they were gone."  Yes, ache, but
He spoke up. To stars.

(words. so many words. everywhere.)

Poems spill from me.
Body-glass cannot contain.
Try, gather, frantic.

(bird watcher)

Long time: hated birds.
Now I think, I was jealous.
They can fly. Me too.

(let's pretend that "violet" is a two-syllable word)

Spring walk. Sun. Thinking.
If I should have a daughter
She will be: Violet.

(any time is lunch time on a Saturday)

Pine needles grown hard.
Thin scent fills cracks in the door.
Christmas, though it's spring.

"Homecoming"

Rooms familiar, strange.
My parents' house is not home.
The dog sleeps, grows old.

The inaugural (April 21, 2011)

Tea, water lukewarm.
Sachet twirling up, and down.
Mud brown dust settles.