1- 6

Borrowed experience
Knowledge in books gathering…
The dust of Aeons

The moon unwetted
And the water unmoved…
By its reflection

Brushed by a bird’s wing
A woman serenely sits…
Beauty steals the Hour

A mite walks across
Haikus written by “Basho”…
Here and there it goes

Clear untrodden sand
Rock pools & soaring cliffs…
A Cathedral’s might

Fresh new potatoes
More valuable than paintings…
Lost in Galleries

6- 12

Haikus stand alone
Are without messages like…
The cries of a Mute

Standing in a row
The large family of Quail…
Pause from foraging

Scouring every page
Of every book of Poetry…
The Ants nesting there

Concert al fresco
Dawn cacophony of birds…
To me quite unknown

In a bucket used
For Early morning ablutions…
A giant moth hides

Compassion seeks not
And by true understanding…
Embraces all things

13- 18

Rising heaven-ward
On fine invisible string…
The little spider

Rye and clover seeds
Carefully sown…a quick meal
For scores of sparrows

While in the woods caught
Between the setting sun and…
The full-moon rising

Proudly beckoning
The distant islands shrouded…
By the morning mist

Chasing the sun and
Getting truly lost in this…
Consuming landscape

Details are hidden
And the primal mist rife…
In this “Floating World”

19- 24

Proudly you stand there
Having seen life passing by…
Oh! Grand father tree

Olde house a haven
For every kind of insect…
Now all made homeless

Quite at home and
With an endless appetite…
The large brood of quail

One of Nature’s gifts
And a tonic for the busy mind…
Mantra of the waves

It is raining bombs
Save the tears for tomorrow…
There may be a drought

“A blade of grass is
With-out a soul”…what nonsense
I saw one praying

25- 30

Honoured visitor
Partaking in Life’s nectar…
The Red Admiral

A princely reward
For labouring all day…
The setting sun

In the air dancing
The Fan-Tail captivated…
By a simple tune

In a coloured swirl
Sarongs blowing in the wind…
Saying come buy me

Caught by the stillness
Of the turquoise waters here…
In Mangonui

The cry of a child
And the sound of lapping waves…
On Christmas day too!

31- 36

With all doors open
The Muse gracefully enters…
The Artist’s domain

An angels smile and
The hammer’s blow are Maya…
To the soul divine

Writing of Poems
And the picking of flowers…
Again and again

In a quiet moment
Clouds resting on distant hills…
Taking in the view

Trees sway in the wind
Like the hair of young maidens…
In gay abandon

In a confined space
With the yearning to be free…
The Artist is born

37- 42

On a rock alone
Far from the eyes of man…
The Heron muses

Blindly stumble home
From cliff top Meditation…
Having lost the light

Written or spoken
Words are superfluous…
When the body speaks

The enlightened moth
To the candle’s rays drawn and…
Dies in the molten wax

Across the Ocean
After just one encounter…
My thoughts are of you

From daily routine
We’d all escape but for the…

43- 48

All I see are trees
All I hear are chirping birds…
Yet the tears roll down

Surfing every wave
The ecstatic joy of a…
Cormorant at play

Scurrying off home
After a long day at work…
The small black beetle

They ignore the storm
The flickering candle and…
The man in the moon

Sitting in “Melrose”
Dust in my guacamole and…
Red-eyed from the fumes

Amidst the high rises
Awakened by the call of…
A solitary bird

49- 54

Glistening dewdrops
Each one a microcosm…
Bejewel the pine tree

Will my house be safe
Tis raining without end…
The stream babbles on

So pristine the leaves
Of the “Basho” glistening…
Under the full moon

Bending with the wind
The Taoist gathers water…
In a straw hat

The glaring eyes of
A pair of possums transfixed…
Like naughty children

Sat in the cool shade
Beneath a green canopy…
Of rustling leaves

55- 60

Liberated and
Hidden by overgrown weeds…
With the scythe swinging

How do you survive
You brilliant coloured parrot…
In a forest of green

On his back from
Eating too many apples…
My neighbour’s lost pig

The Tui’s lament
Not drowned by the river’s…
Frolicsome singing

A regal carpet
Of red…blossom beneath the…

The Sun’s eclipse
Totally obscured by the…
Nonchalant clouds

61- 66

Full-moon through the pines
Creating a lattice work…
On the veranda

At the summer’s end
A profusion of colour…
From the Hibiscus

Through out the summer
The changing colour of weeds…
Amongst the grasses

Cliffs disappearing (Japan)
Before my very eyes…
The sea mist rising

High on the pine’s scent
Blindly walking through the woods…
Here in Miyako

You little flower
I can see you peeping with…
Make-up mirror poised

67- 72

Hardly any cars
And no people on this road…
To “Tanohata”

Peace beneath the pines
With bowels fully relieved…
A perfect shrine here

Got greeted by a
Russian on a bicycle…
Here in “Miyako”

A six mat room is
For Itinerant poets…
Pure indulgence

Lost through the throngs and
The Cherry Blossom…sun-set
On “Mount Iwaki”

In the country-side
Rows and rows of padi-fields…
Not a single cow

73- 78

After a long walk
Rewarded with the pure waters…
From Mount Iwaki

Snowing pink blossom
Ravens grubbing for worms this…
Wet May morning

Repairing their nets
The fishermen on the quay…
Viewed by Mount Chokai

The first primroses
Of the season bid farewell…
In “Kisakata”

A bright welcome of
Red and yellow tulips here…
In Niigata (Japan ends)

With its young playing (Hong Kong)
In the middle of Kowloon…
The Hawks soaring high

79- 84

Lantau Isle greeted
With an array of colour…
Butterflies galore

We had the Hostel
All to our-selves…that is me
And the mosquitos

On the Lantau trail
A cow resolutely sits…
Proud and arrogant (Hong Kong ends)

For my efforts of
Watering the garden…
The full-moon and stars

From the mighty hills
To the smallest stone…all that
Somebody does own

Where have they all gone
And when will they return the…
Stolen native trees

85- 90

In the Mount’s domain
The tranquil waters are home…
To Excalibur

Bamboo skirts the fields
Of ripening citrus fruit…
Untouched by the wind

With eyes closed shut
Drowned by the intensity…
Of the turquoise hue

The sound of the waves
And the caressing wind sooth…
The cluttered mind

Aiming for the sea
Thinking that it is a fish…
The Hotton-tot fig

Greeted in the wind
Or is the Punga saying…
Be-gone trespasser

91- 96

Peeping through the pines
The crescent moon also hears…
The Cicada’s drone

Viewed through the long grass
Waves breaking on the distant rocks…
Here on Taipa’s shore

Unable to hear
The wind chime…the full-moon
High above the trees

From the withered bough
Falling raindrops make music…
On the Hut’s tin roof

Late in the evening
The bird song becomes louder…
With candle blown out

Stumble upon a
Solitary poppy this…
Early summers evening


This poor hobbling
One legged pigeon must be…
Supreme in the air

Tries to penetrate
Through the foliage…
The sun’s searching rays

Though you see it not
The Pohutukawa blooms…
In full glory

To reap in vain but
Not to loose sight of the plan…
On those furrowed fields

A prized morsel
Snapper washed up on the beach…
The sea-gulls make haste

A precious jewel!
No! just a tiny flower…
On the woodland floor

103- 108

Know this to be true
Little creatures of the sand…
We are all mortal

Such arduous work
Reeping with bleeding hands…
A large crop of rocks

The Cicada’s drone
Incessant…it penetrates
One’s very being

Standing sedately
And viewing all around the…
Majestic pine tree

Not many people
Crossing the threshold today…
And alas…no sales

The bough of a pine-tree
Caressed by a gentle breeze…
As evening laments

109- 114

Horizon to shore
The empty distance filled by…
A pair of swallows

Unable to hear
The wind chime…the full-moon
High above the trees

On a rock alone
Far from the eyes of man…
The Heron muses

Trees groan in the wind
The birds chatter away and…
The traffic… just hums

It swam away
The Taniwha sculpture…
That you gave to me

For some travelling
At the speed of light is just…

115- 120

Killed an Ant today
One of thousands of guests…
In my little hut

In these times of change
The reassuring routine…
Off the ebb and flow

A blissful day ends
Suddenly last summer…
That was Nine-Eleven

Up and down a blade
Of grass the lady-bird climbs…
Totally bemused

The shy mosquito
It is hiding some-where …till
It’s safe for feeding

Standing all alone
Against the vast emptiness…
The humble pine tree

121- 126

Drying its wings
After a morning fishing…
The thankful Heron

The plants were here first
And they know a thing or two…
About Alchemy

The critical eye
May peruse the picture…
But fails to see it

Gracefully singing
And swaying in the wind…
A row of pine trees

Moon gazing tonight
Amidst the trees…the rocks and
The gushing stream

Camera poised
Brief moments in time captured…
From this “fleeting world”

127- 132

Lonely Time…seeing
The grieving conspirators…
Crop beauty’s flowers

Tis very quiet
The sound of the earth spinning…
On this summer’s day

No reading…nothing
Humbled by the cicada’s…
Monotonous drone

Shed’s all spick an span
Rice and chillies for dinner…
This cold drizzly day

On the line hanging
Clothing thoroughly rinsed…
By the endless rain

There has been lots of
Bridges under the water…
Back in Belgrade

133- 138

Emerging thoughts
Emanate and flow away…
Like passing clouds

Morning ablution
Spotted a very small white…
Five petalled flower

I was very moved
By the land-slide that by-passed…
My little studio

The sun has fallen
The rain risen…the Cicadas
Loudly celebrate

With a little money
And days of endless rain…
Tis a poor Autumn

Strange sounds emanate
From the possums late at night…
What are they saying


We have in common
Seventy five percent of
Our genes…Mr Mouse

Squawking family
Feeding time for the Herons…
High-up in the trees

Emptied of water
A bowl on the horizon…
The moon…so it seems

Sitting thus the cloud
Waits…knowing it too will
Become a Buddha

The full-moon after
Days and days of endless rain…
The pumpkins…how big

Don’t ask for the moon
It’s taken…behold a world
In a grain of sand

145- 150

With wind becalmed a
Solitary bird flies by…
This over-cast day

Glistening seaweed
Washed-up on the beach…looking
Like precious jewls

Just the sea and sky
As far as the eye can see…
The very blue blue

The shear indulgence
Of lazing beneath the…

With a gentle breeze
And the sun lost behind clouds…
The heat melts away

Ancient volcano
In the distance framed by the…


A Celestial choir
And a distant bird is heard…
This peaceful morning

Raining in L.A.
And the buses…are’nt working…
The pathos of it

The priceless treasure
Gathers no dust…when in a
Chest for-ever locked

Ever so gentle the
The big steal bird gracefully…
Descends for landing

Please be kind today
Let prejudice fly away…
Tis the only way

Nature is faultless
Deformity’s in the mind…
Of those …not so kind

157- 162

Walking the coast path
Chance encounter with a friend…
We discuss our teeth

Trying to make friends
It wispers into my ear…
The flurrying moth

Sitting and watching
The continuous flowing stream…
Soothes the restless soul

Well blanched nettles
And a touch of soya-sauce…
The soup of the day

It’s talons hold me
Like fish hooks into my flesh…
The black-berry bush

With bleeding hands we
Reap flowers of rank odour…
Upon thorny lands

163- 168

Is that a Buddha
In your garden…no it’s just
A pile of stones

Wavering not…the
Eternal flame of truth
Fires one’s very soul

Gazing into the
Blue yonder…a single line
Divides sea and sky

The rock looks at me
I look back…time measured by…
The falling rain-drops

With no constraints and
Unbounded by convention…
Still to Truth…a slave

Staff and begging bowl
For the mendicant complete…
And a peace of string

169- 174

Lulled to sleep
By the ever lasting sound…
Of the rolling waves

And what will it be?
A pint of poetry please…
It’s the critic’s choice

And coconut oil…a meal
Of supreme delight

Rise early to the
Sound of the dawn chorus…
Fooled by the full-moon

“Live Bait”…from Thailand
That’s what it said on the can…
Found on Taipa’s shore
(post boxing-day 04)

Arduous though it be
The Haiku path’s blessed with…
Beauty on the small

175- 180

Such charming creatures
Devouring everything…those
Spineless slimy slugs

The Dragonfly too
Enjoys the tranquillity…
Of Lamorna stream

Not alone tonight
My old friend the crescent moon…
Paid me a visit

Warmed by the sun
And not a care in the world…
Here in Lamorna

The wind bloweth not
The wind chime knoweth not yet…
Merrily it rings

Washed-up on the beach
Pair of snapper skeletons…
Together in death

181- 186

Brain rusted and the
Spirit drowned by the very…
Vengeful endless rain

A kiss in passing
Through infinities sun-rise…
Is a joy for-ever

Not knowing of the
Grief and pain of this world…
Flowers…they grow still

May the gift of peace
Be with you this season of…
Blessed offerings

In mid December
Tis warm as a summer’s day…
Here in Lamorna

It’s a sunshine day
And the flowers are still blooming…
This late Autumn day

187- 192

The trickling fountain
And sea-gulls for company here…
In Morrab gardens

No Haikus today
The Muse has gone far away…
There’s nothing to say

When troubled by grief
And woe…remember life is
A bowl of cherries

On the edge alone
Then suddenly from nowhere…
A bird appears

Distant sound of drums
It is no party…it is just
Wind thrashing Bamboo

The shed may be small
And life too short to be lived…
Yet dragons still prey

193- 198

The last song uttered
By the last of its species…
Would we hear it

The distant lament
Of the “Tui”…not drowned by
The frolicsome stream

How far we walk from
One hell into another…
Between heaven’s joys

As days get longer
The daffodils…so keen to
Raise their weary heads

Every which way
Without rhyme or reason…
The little lost Ant

By the brute force of
Number crunching are we…
Any closer to God

199- 204

From the cliffs below
A solitary sea gull…
Rises heavenward

The aesthete ponders
A plate of food as Art…
And dies enlightened

From these ravaged lands
Pining for the sweet taste from…
The fruit of Reason

Loathsome though it be
But are we any better than he…
The cursed cockroach

Just discernable
On mist clouded cliffs a…
Hovering seagull

Will it never end
This winter of discontent…
Bright rays beckon

205- 210

Torn apart by strife
And the carnage of war…yet
Life it goes on…still

Who will visit me
This empty shed by the stream…
On this Christmas day

“You smell” he says and
You are polluting my house…
Such a fine fellow

The homeless gather
All forlorn for the free food…
By the Palace gates

This Itinerant
Vagabond’s just another…

Every day sleeping
And eating three meals a day…
How very stupid

211- 216

Bathing in the glow
Of early flowering blossom…
This mild winter’s morn

He says “you cannot
Rent my house” because you are…
An Itinerant

In these brief moments
Strutting apon this stage we…
Finally pass-away

In calm repose
Beneath a tree in summer…
Words come streaming past

Lightened from fasting
And walking the Dharma Path…
With no end in sight

You big baffoon
So that is what you’re thinking…
The audacious frog

211- 216

Feeling sad and blue
And there’s nothing I can do…
Sept say…I love you

There’s nothing new
Under the sun…every-thing
Dies and is reborn

The early spring rush
Of the Sun…arching its way…
Over St. Michael’s Mount

An afternoon spent
Joyously repairing paths…
That go nowhere

Going for a stroll
Get wet then dry…wet then dry…
Between rain and wind

Surviving with the
Anomalies of being…
A human seeing

216- 222

With reservoirs full
The hose-pipe ban stays still this…
Very wet Winter

Letting your self go
Feeling your way around and…
Going with the Tao

Trudging fields…sodden
From weeks of horrendous rain…
Get muddied all over

First of the season
Hostel bed in exchange…
For some gardening

With an open heart
Touching the soul of others…
The Rose’s fragrance

Proudly standing there (Malta)
Up-against the southern skies…
A solitary Church

223- 228

On the Hour church-bells
Ringing…No tis just tradesmen…
With their tools working

On a bench lazing
Beneath the watchful eye…
Of the Knight’s Tower

In the company
Of bright yellow flowers all…
Gazing at the sun

Ambling along
And stumble upon the…
Smallest white flower

Every-where a Church
In this most catholic place...
Thanks to St. Paul

On this tiny island
The eye’s of God blinded by…
The white stone buildings (Malta ends)

229- 234

Loads of dosh “gifted”
To bent “bureau-bunnies” with…
A kick-back later

No regrets or fears
And no time for tears in the…
Autumn of our years

The path to Reason
Is littered with unfinished…
But good intentions

The wind in your hair
The roar of the waves and not…
A Soul to be seen

Lying on The Path
With no care in the world…
The ecstatic tramp

What a welcome this
Regal red carpet of…
Camellia blossom

235- 240

Bumble-bee passes
While drinking Ulong tea…
By the gushing stream

Every which way
The Ant searching in vain for…
A four-leaf clover

What do you see
Little Robin surveying…
The land in Lamorna

Stealing “Blake’s Hour”
In a Haiku about a…
Beautiful woman

An English man’s shed
Is his castle …if that is All
That he possesses

Loathsome though it be
Are we any better than he…
This wretched cockroach

241- 246

Stumble upon a
Precious Lapis Lazuli…
On the wood-land floor

Breathing its last this
Monarch Butterfly is just…
Another Mortal

A great work of ART
Can dazzle the enemy…
Like a well made shield

Face to face meeting
Every morning with the…
Monarch butterfly

This merry Fan-tail
Sings its heart-out and dances…
Rapturously around

William Blake and
Socrates are my day’s fare…
Here in Waheke

247- 252

Shackled to the rocks
The Pohutukawa shines…
At the beach’s end

All manner of birds
Entertain on the beach…
By being them-selves

The singing blossom
Cannot be heard by the birds
That flower all day

It is the season
Of searching for a female…
Monarch butterfly

Caught between the sun-set
And the full-moon rising in…
Santa Monica

Eyeing all below
With gentle curiosity…
The clouds high above

253- 258

Gnarled by all that (a walk…)
The Tempest can throw stands the…

Washed upon the beach
The harmless skeleton of …
The Porcupine-Fish

Kept awake all night
By my unwelcome guests…
The Mosquitos

We are mere mortals
But you majestic Kauris…
Will reign for-ever

Way weary feet seek
A rest…as the long shadow…
Meets its final end

After a gruelling
Three days arrive exhausted…
At “Ta-Potu-Potu” (…up 90milebeach)

259- 264

Being The Master
Of the skies compensates this…
One legged sea-gull

The Pawns or Peasants
Are the very soul of chess…
And of a Country

Must be the Monarch
That was responsible for the…
“Butterfly Effect”

This man of POVERTY
Is really just a POET…
With-out the…V.R.Y.

Drenched by the rain
This Christmas day on the beach…
Not a soul in sight

Arrives finally
The migrating Monarch…
Generations Later

265- 270

Struggling till the end
Just like us they are mortal…
Monarch Butterflies

Waking up to the
Daily sound of dripping rain…
Will it ever stop

Man of Poverty
“Ryokan” was truly blessed…
By the Unseen hand

Tear my heart out here
In this tranquil Kauri-Grove…
I truly would not mind

You’re so eccentric
Randomly zig-zagging…you
Drunken butterfly

I cannot catch this
Evasive butterfly that…
Comes fluttering by

271- 276

Breath the verdant green
On a Sunday’s walk in a…
Forest…so pristine

Beneath the cliff- face
Hidden from the mid-day sun…
The Pohutukawa

Satiated by
The eucalyptus and…
Bathing in its balm

The ecstatic joy
Of a pair of dragonflies…
Circling the sky

Amidst the bird song
The falling of a single…
Solitary leaf

Though their life be short
Butterflies abhor straight lines…
And in no hurry

277- 282

Backwards and forwards
Forever…for this Ant it’s…
Pure purgatory

Flying in circles
For the shear pleasure of it…
The large Dragonfly

Unable to sleep
With so many promises to keep…
There’s no time to sleep

Do not forsake the
Defenders of Liberty…
For they hold the Key!

A scrawny cat peers
Rather too expectantly…
Into dark waters

This Poet is just
Stringing words together…
Like a daisy chain


Greeted in Hainan (China)
By a little bird on a…
Flowering tree

A magic sun-rise
Even amongst the high rises…
Here in Haikou

On the water’s edge
The Tai Chi masters flowing..
Beneath the tree’s boughs

Tin bell tinkle-ling
The pied-piper of rubbish…
Loads his tricycle

The grand and modest
A medley of contrasts in…
This booming China

Scaffolding covers
All the buildings…sprucing up
For the summer Games

289- 294

Red lanterns galore
People scurrying about,,,
Tis China’s new year

Standing out a mile
A black butterfly against the…
White sands of San Ya

Myriads of people
On the beach…it must be a
Very special day

Animated Russian
Muttering I know not what…
Here on San Ya’s shore

Coconut trees…sway
Fisher-men their nets…repair
Sea breeze the day…cools

From where did it come
This black butterfly that..
Arrived on San Ya’s shore


Ripples on the pond
Cannot erase the moon…it
Just keeps coming back

All manner of sounds
But above the mayhem…
A bird’s song is heard

The perfect grace
Of a Chi Gong performance…
The perfect farewell

Don’t ask me why
The butterfly flutters by…
Ask the flutter-by

Wispering Willow
And shreaks of an unknown bird…
Across still waters

Life’s work complete this
Butterfly makes peace with the…
Maker of all things (China ends)

301- 306

This little sparrow
Finds us so amusing and…
Can’t stop chattering

On a withered branch
A cheerful fantail is just…
Celebrating life

From adversity
The gnarled Pohutukawa…
Craves for attention

Where ever I go
There you are… you faithful
Monarch butterfly

A bemused Heron
At the sight of a rabbit…
On the water’s edge

Of gossamer wing
The hovering dragonfly…
Suspended in space


Viewing sandwiches
While eating St. Michael’s Mount…
Kernow flag…flapping

Nowt to celebrate
This dark and dismal day sept…
The bus was on time

Mist in Pahia
Boats tethered to their moorings…
Awaiting the bus

Arriving down south
With my constant companion…

All may plainly see
An innocent man he be…
This man of poverty

Life’s an Idiot’s Tale
Full of sound and fury that…
Signifies nothing

313- 318

A rain-bow and a
Solitary sea-gull greet…
This wet winter morn

An itinerant priest
Of a rather militant kind…
The “Yama Bushi”

Life’s a journey
And Time is the traveller…
On this endless path

All snug and warm
In the social club on wheels…
This cold winter’s morn

Good music…love and
The sun’s healing rays does the…
Inner being sooth

Visitors are few
Tranquil arbours aplenty…
Here in mid-winter

319- 324

Wings firmly clipped
Unable to migrate this year…
Confined to one place

I am sure that this
One legged pigeon is the…
Master of the skies

The Autumn sun-shine
Enjoyed by the butterfly…
The cat and me

You can have your way
If you are prepared to pay…
That is what they say

It’s bright and sunny
But it ain’t very funny…
Not having money

God will not betray
If you ardently pray…
And you’ll find a way


A labyrinth of
Ancient mine workings…
On the water’s edge

With chaos all around
What’s there to do Prince Igor…
Just let the heart melt

The tracks all muddy
Ah! But what an ode to joy here…
On the pristine beach

A crashing crescendo
Of waves upon sand and rocks…
This late summer's day

There may be strict rules
But morals…there are none
In the game of chess

The days get shorter
As the sun struggles to rise…
Winter approaching

331- 336

The world’s money is
Slushing around like water…
In a sinking ship

Just chasing rain-bows
That’s what this artist’s doing…
Amidst the Mayhem

The money’s all gone
Mercilessly consumed by…
The Ritual Fire Dance

Paying Homage in
A derelict mine where men…
Once slaved for tin

Lifted from despair
And melancholy by the…
Vagrant’s soothing song

The sun swallowed by
The greedy Atlantic…
Alone in darkness

337- 342

Levant is calling
Hear the song of the sea and…
Of departed souls

The Angelus
Far from the maddening crowd…
On the water’s edge

These granite structures
Pay tribute to the selfless…
Efforts of miners

Tin merchant Joseph
In Glastonbury buried…
With his Magic Staff

The Levantine’s Feet
Did on Cornwall’s coast path tred…
Many years ago

In the Buddha World
A butter-fly is dreaming…
Of being “Soshi”

This is the end my Friend