tiny haibun

3 Pieces by Nicholas Klacsanzky

jshb32, 1 Comment

Subway Window

The best time I had was when I forgot myself. I don’t know why I ever came back.

the subway car window
shows only darkness . . .
and my reflection

.

Dervish

I can’t figure out if mysticism is ecstatic or a sham. I go between Sufi dancing and wanting fame. Not everyone can sleep in the sand.

emptier
than emptiness:
our first name

.

Idealism

I have never been on hard drugs, but it seems like I am. The cacophony of conversations in the cafe melds into my thought process and my mental silence. I thought I was high on meditation this morning, but I guess coffee can cut through inner calm, despite our idealism.

rain or snow?
I remove myself
from myself

 

Nicholas Klacsanzky

 

 

3 Pieces by Nicholas Klacsanzky

3 tiny haibun

jshb32, 1 Comment

through the silence clicks from the central heating ticks from the clock

black against black
in the car park a crow
pecks at the frost

*

strings and a bow that’s all it takes though maybe a hand would help and a shoulder to cry on

snowman plays Bach
a scarecrow Vivaldi
who cares

*

all my best work thrown out with the rubbish this sea of troubles

corrugated iron
a crow silhouetted
perched on a wave

 

Diana Webb

3 tiny haibun

3 miniatures

jshb32, 1 Comment

miniatures: 6

a flush in the hand you are holding still enough to compensate for the death that waits due north of this death

your pulse
syncopates—
scag clouds

–

miniatures: 16

taking the chance the thrill the not knowing the him the her the me or any of this dank matter held together by the weak forces that will inevitably cause our decay

twilight—
waiting to be picked up
by the blockchain

–

miniatures: 30

anyway take my trade tiny cop imposter and mute the bond yet smelted warm to the slob touch of a grasshopper

midnight sun—
grooming the coats
of roadkill

 

Brendan Slater

3 miniatures