BY
PETER HUGO
MCCLURE
WINTER/09
TREWELLARD
CORNWALL
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…
Opportunity
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…
Pohutukawa
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
97-102
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…
A…bit…too…slow
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
139-144
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…
Pohutukawa
With a gentle breeze
And the sun lost behind clouds…
The heat melts away
Ancient volcano
In the distance framed by the…
Pohutukawa
151-156
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
Cassava…Taro
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…
Yama-Bushi
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…
Pokutukawa
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
283-288
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
295-300
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
307-312
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…
Mister-rain-all-day
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
325-330
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