raking leaves —
the white noise
of shared grief
Written on December 2, 2025
Published in haikuKATHA, Issue #50, 2025
raking leaves —
the white noise
of shared grief
Written on December 2, 2025
Published in haikuKATHA, Issue #50, 2025
a house sparrow
in the rafters
… long way from home
Written on December 1, 2025
Published in haikuKATHA, Issue #50, 2025
the seasons blurred global warring
Written on March 10, 2026
a mild reaction to poison ivy survivor’s guilt
Written on March 9, 2026
wild roses
fresh off
an argument
Written on March 2, 2026
Notes
If you have seen a bunch of my haiga, you’ll notice that I prefer a reasonably close link and shift between the artwork and the haiku. I don’t enjoy pieces where there is too much gap to fill, a personal preference, because my mind goes crazy at all the open possibilities and it is not a fun state to be in.
I realize the closeness of my linking and shortness of my shifting between the image and the poem might not clear the bar for quality from others’ perspective. But I feel this is one of the most subjective aspects of haikai techniques, so I just stick with it at my comfort level. Of course, I do evaluate my haiga critically w.r.t the link and shift because it is very easy to not do it enough and make the whole piece an image and caption pair.
fresh war children camouflaged in debris
Written on March 2, 2026
Notes
When you read this one-line poem, there are a couple of places where you can pause and split the poem into two images.
#1
fresh war / children camouflaged in debris
Another war. The missiles hitting schools and homes have buried children, dead and alive. They are covered in debris. Camouflaged, hopefully escaping another targetted strike. But this is a land without hope. Another missile would come, the patriots on the other side just making sure they give their all for their country.
#2
fresh war children / camouflaged in debris
Another war. The missiles hitting hospitals have buried pregnant women and newborns, dead and alive.
~
And the fragment camouflaged in debris plays with the fact that the truth is buried.
fledgling sparrow—
scavenging for
a thick enough scarf
Written on January 2, 2026
Featured in Triya magazine, Basant edition, 2026.