THE SEA AND ITS HARBOURS ARCHIVE
I - L

 

# / Author
Haiku
I
Hugh Bygott
The moon in hiding —
dreaming out of loneliness,
I hear the wild sea.

On February 18, 2004 Hugh Bygott and Zhanna P. Rader started a series of non-linked haiku on subject of the sea and its harbours.
II
Zhanna P. Rader
Sea oats
swaying in the wind —
loud cries of gulls.
III
Hugh Bygott
Misted in the dawn,
the distant harbour colours
merge with harbour shapes.
IV
Zhanna P. Rader
Calm bay waters —
a little rocky island hidden
under cormorants.
V
Hugh Bygott
Sea-fire clouds fading —
these mysteries of the mind
etch'd by autumn light.
VI
Zhanna P. Rader
No people around —
flocks of sandpipers probe
the tidal pools.
VII
Hugh Bygott
The restless sea —
I watch the ancient stars,
the moon and I alone.
VIII
Zhanna P. Rader
A beach walk —
in the dried-out puddles
dead medusas.
IX
Hugh Bygott
Dawn solitude:
Spring light enters the Coral Sea —
another floating world.
X
Zhanna P. Rader
Churning waves —
pelicans dive-bomb
into the water.
XI
Hugh Bygott
As I scan the sky,
the dawn moon conceal'd in mists
slips into the sea.
XII
Zhanna P. Rader
Ebbing tide —
an elderly bicycles
in the warm wind.
XIII
Hugh Bygott
Still the rusting steel —
plovers cry in the summer dusk,
searching the tidal edge.
XIV
Zhanna P. Rader
From a crow's beak
a crab falls on a rock —
its heart still beating.
XV
Hugh Bygott
This black winter sea —
the throbbing of the engines
breaks the night's silence.
XVI
Zhanna P. Rader
Waves rock the boat —
I climb a rope ladder
to get to the ship
XVII
Hugh Bygott
The crescent moon
seems to be tangled in the ship's ropes —
calm after the storm.
XVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
Rainbow at the pier —
an off-shore breeze
caresses my skin.
XIX
Hugh Bygott
Distant horizon —
cool sea-water splashes my legs:
sadness at day's end.
XX
Zhanna P. Rader
Heavy rain —
the sky and the sea
become one.
XXI
Hugh Bygott
The sea birds buffeted;
storms rage over the summer sea —
I awake from dreams.
XXII
Zhanna P. Rader
Darkened beach —
the copper moon
the shape of a smile.
XXIII
Hugh Bygott
The western sky —
wild geese fleck the crimson light
and pass beyond the sea.

The kigo here is spring as the wild geese are departing to cooler climates to breed during the summer.
XXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
Sand under my feet —
I catch
a tern's feather.
XXV
Hugh Bygott
Headland cemetery:
once we walk'd the ebb-tide sand —
now, her absent footprints.
XXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
Dusk —
the little green island
melts into the sea.
XXVII
Hugh Bygott
Mirror'd in the sea,
following me as I go —
the autumn moon.
XXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
A night swim —
glimmering phosphorescence
coats my skin.
XXIX
Hugh Bygott
Figures from the sea
becoming clearer through the mist —
dawn swimmers return.
XXX
Zhanna P. Rader
The otter rests
draped in strands of kelp —
small fish schools.
XXXI
Hugh Bygott
Uncoiling her wet hair,
she descries an ocean liner
merging with the sun.

Indian Ocean sunset from Cottesloe Beach, Perth, Western Australia
XXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
Dolphins!
The poetess writes three
short lines in the sand.
XXXIII
Hugh Bygott
Silver autumn sea,
dolphins play in the moonlight —
silence of the nets.
XXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
A whale's fluke
tosses water up —
the memory of it.
XXXV
Hugh Bygott
A wild winter's night —
the ocean waves prolong
their crashing.

An extraordinary natural rock tunnel through which Pacific Ocean waves flow and then rise vertically at a point on the southern New South Wales Coast at Kiama. Sadly, erosion has weakened this spectacular display of an intermittent water jet.
XXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
Winter sea whiteness —
a mushroom-shaped iceberg
frozen in place...
XXXVII
Hugh Bygott
Caught in winter wild-winds
the clipper veers to the cape —
a white speck on the coast.

A clipper was a fast sailing-ship with many sails. They were used extensively in the tea trade. Watching a clipper in full sail must have been a beautiful sight. The "white speck" could have been the sails. However, my intention was the speck of light from the light-house.
XXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
Stretches of sea ice —
a polar bear motionless
at the seals' breathing hole...
XXXIX
Hugh Bygott
Night shadows passing;
icebergs enter the Arctic dawn —
still water's silence.

The kigo is an integral part of a haiku. They are rarely a single syllable. In English they may be four or more syllables, for example, Basho's "summer grasses." (In Basho's text, this phrase is in kanji and I believe corresponds to three sounds. ) In my haiku, I am using 5 syllables, in fact the first line is the kigo, perhaps unsuccessfully. The six months of light is becoming more definite.
XL
Zhanna P Rader
Arctic glaciers —
the Aurora begins
its evening dance.

When I read the Latin "Aurora" I immediately think of the Greek "Eos", goddess of the dawn, and Homer's line, "the rosy-fingered dawn". However, you are right in stressing evening for the electromagentic phenomenon of the aurora. Finally, you juxtapose the steady glaciers with the dance of the light. A good haiku points beyond itself and creates new meaning possibilities. This is what you have done. You have packed a lot into 16 syllables, and you have minimised immediate images.
XLI
Hugh Bygott
Summer sea at twilight;
I wait for the Milky Way —
the Crux is my guide.
XLII
Zhanna P. Rader
Quiet pier —
the Milky Way spills
into the sea.
XLIII
Hugh Bygott
Coolness of the night;
her tears the first of many —
his ship puts to sea.
XLIV
Zhanna P. Rader
Misty dawn
with no ripples on the sea —
our wake the only sound...
XLV
Hugh Bygott
Listening to the sea,
alone I face the long night —
winds, rising, rising.

Zhanna, you will always find a verb in any haiku that I compose. The corresponding sentence contains the principal proposition. From the peripheral phrase it is then possible to generate one or more new propositions. "winds" = I hear the sound of winds at the shore, inland or over the sea. "rising" = The presence of the winds is more noticeable. The second "rising" brings in a note of fear. = I am becoming anxious. You are quite right in respect to prose composition. It is remarkable that I have placed five punctuation marks in 18 syllables. In my haiku poetics, punctuation makes meaning precise.
XLVI
Zhanna P. Rader
Heavy weather —
the ship's cook struggles amongst
his pans to stay upright.
XLVII
Hugh Bygott
Unrelenting sea —
a lonely gull rides the Spring waves,
the harbour lights fading.
XLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
Hurricane —
the rig drags the towing boat
behind itself.
XLIX
Hugh Bygott
Blackening storm clouds —
white sanderlings still chase
receding Winter waves.
L
Zhanna P. Rader
Homes perched
on an eroded cliff —
the roaring sea.