ASAHI HAIKUIST NETWORK/ David McMurray
July 3, 2026 at 08:00 JST
the tender heartthrob under a tortoiseshell
--Zoltan Pachnik (Kaposvar, Hungary)
* * *
Don’t move, stay still now;
there’s a caterpillar there
resting in your hair
--Ugur Olgar (Silifke, Turkey)
* * *
intervals
of the sound of sea--
dozing beneath the noon sun
--Christina Chin (Kuching, Malaysia)
* * *
the whisper
of a bicycle squeak
summer dusk
--Glenn G. Coats (Carolina Shores, North Carolina)
* * *
railyard conversation
seed heads whisper to
graffitied boxcars
--Kim Goldberg (Nanaimo, British Columbia)
* * *
a mockingbird
desperate for a date--
endless string of calls
--John Richard Stephens (Maui, Hawaii)
* * *
press conference
the loons are calling
on the White House lawn
--Mike Fainzilber (Tel Aviv, Israel)
* * *
Harsh times
even the best orchestra
failed to sing
--Junko Saeki (Tokyo)
* * *
empty carriages pulled by
an engine named Victory--
train tracks rattle
--Robin Rich (Brighton, England)
* * *
the last notes
of a piano
in the landfill
--Howard Lee Kilby (Hot Springs National Park, Arkansas)
------------------------------
FROM THE NOTEBOOK
------------------------------
Long-hemmed kimono
rustles on the temple floor
green maple trees
--Murasaki Sagano (Kyoto)
The haikuist found inner peace in the colorful sounds she perceived when a polished black floor reflected green (yuka-midori). So as not to destroy the tranquil atmosphere of Iwakura Jissoin temple, other floors are covered in tatami mats to silence noises such as shuffling feet and the flowing silk trains of ceremonial court dresses. Stania heard graceful tranquility.
close to silence--the silver wings of a dragonfly
Matsuo Basho (1644-1694) composed hokku for a courtesan who offered a piece of white silk to write on at a teashop named Butterfly: ran no ka ya choo no tsubasa ni takimono su
the incense breathed
onto a butterfly’s wings
a fragrant orchid
Handling silk requires a gentle touch, noted Margaret Ponting in Victoria, Australia, and Tom Bierovic in DeLand, Florida, who respectively wove their poems on a universal theme.
trust
a silken thread
is broken
* * *
cobwebs
on the porch swing
broken promise
In today’s column, haikuists record a crescendo of summer sounds: splashing, dripping, rattling, whirring, whispering, whooping, shrieking, howling, shouting and silence. In Joetsu, Niigata Prefecture, Yutaka Kitajima slurped sloshing liquid from a bottle listening to a “pocha-pocha” rhythmic sound.
Soda pops
from the shopping bag...
cooling sounds
Jack Kerouac referred to haiku as pops, including this one from his “Book of Haikus” (2003).
Missing a kick
at the icebox door
It closed anyway
Julia Guzman was surprised by a cold-blooded caiman reptile rolling off a riverbank in Cordoba, Argentina.
the sound of paddle strokes--
a yacare stretches
in the sun
Melissa Dennison smiled contentedly at the noises coming from a government-financed community center in Bradford, England. Built 40 years ago, however, the well-used infrastructure needs replacing.
splashing pensioners
in the council pool
summer never ends
Witnessing a water accident in Tokyo, Junko Saeki knew enough “to throw a line and call for help.”
interpreter
at the scene of an accident
until doctors know what to do
Boryana Boteva penned this head-on collision in Sofia, Bulgaria.
your word
against mine--
crashing trains
Shannon Wallace got a call in Mississauga, Ontario.
in the voice message
a familiar breath
sighs
In Berne, Switzerland, Linus Blessing wears a keepsake associated with flowing water--the symbol of the Japanese goddess of eloquence, good fortune and knowledge.
my beloved’s medal
Benzaiten
hangs on my chest
Listening to a bird in Kielce, Poland, Marek Printer invoked Matsuo Basho’s 1689 ode: muzan ya na kabuto no shita no kirigirisu
How piteous--
beneath the warrior’s helmet
a crying cricket
* * *
heat waves--
goldfinch sings
from a pierced helmet
Joanna Ashwell cried for relief from the heat wave in Durham, England.
mopping my brow
when will this whirr
of AC end
Isabella Kramer had lullabies to sing in Nienhagen, Germany. Earl Livings drifted off listening to a lullaby in Melbourne, Australia. Raj K. Bose welcomed a new neighbor to Honolulu, Hawaii.
weeping willow
all these fairytales I never told you
unborn child
* * *
frogs in the pond
raindrops on glass…
insomnia music
* * *
summer evening breeze
neighbor’s lullaby sounding
just like my mom’s
Anthony Q. Rabang arranged percussion instruments in Santa Catalina, Philippines. In Beesenstedt, Germany, Ramona Linke moved her hands close to metal antennas that created an electromagnetic field controlling the pitch and volume of her musical composition.
convenience store
raindrops filling
empty soda cans
* * *
Theremin sound
once upon a time
in July
Mario Massimo Zontini returned to a dream in Parma, Italy. Timothy Daly pulled over to the side of the road, mesmerized by a graceful bird wading in tall reeds to perch on a log by the Misa river, Italy.
the first coffer
before the doves begin to coo--
I go back to bed
* * *
just traffic until
the heron pauses
my commute
As soon as C. Jean Downer finds the coin that slipped between the upholstery, she’ll race ring-billed gulls to the beach at White Rock, British Columbia.
dad’s favorite chair--
searching for one more dime
for the candy aisle
Carl Brennan licked his lips at a summer resort in New York state. Christina Chin put the top down.
Offkey ragtime
the ice cream truck rolls in
Finger Lakes fog
* * *
Beetle convertible
singing scouts songs
sunshine on my bonnet
Padraig O’Morain was sure he heard an animal sniffing around Dublin, Ireland. Florian Munteanu bought two dogs in Bucharest, Romania. P. Kimura replied to a knock at the door in Worthington, Massachusetts.
roses dip their heads
the dog that died
snuffles around the lawn
* * *
at a park--
a lost puppy nears
hot dog stand
* * *
Hello! Who is it?
Leaves unfurling on oak trees
woodpeckers knocking
Kitajima has been listening to the sound of a keepsake since his junior high school days in Joetsu, Niigata Prefecture.
grandma’s gift
ticking sound round ’n’ round
windup watch
Matsuo Basho often received gifts, such as summer melons, from his disciples. In exchange, he instructed them on how to write poetry, sometimes imploring his disciples to resist copying: makuwa melon--do not be like me two halves of a melon (ware ni niru na futatsu ni wareshi makuwa uri). Elizabeth Moura described a hopeful moment in East Taunton, Massachusetts. Mona Bedi walked at high tide. Morgan Ophir meditated in Sydney, Australia.
mama’s day out
scratching lotto tickets
holding up the line
* * *
beach combing
finding hidden treasure
in the wrack line
* * *
stone garden
raking
the sound of straight lines
Traveling by locomotive, Subhash Roy Choudhury traversed the Mahanadi River on the way to Cuttack station, India. On a rainy trip to Ooty, India, Shalini Gupta sat in a “heritage steam locomotive with surreal views.”
train whistle--
the iron bridge thrums
rain plinks in the river
* * *
toy train chugs along
painted gouache cabbage farms
frosted window panes
Sandip Chauhan fished in Great Falls, Virginia.
rusted buoy bell
between the swells
a fisherman sings
Dennison sat down for a traditional fry-up breakfast. Patrick Sweeney tucked into some warm grub in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Mark Manalang packed breakfast into a haversack while running away from busy Shinjuku, Tokyo. Bose had breakfast on a haiku hike.
tight trousers...
sitting down the sound
of buttons popping
* * *
the whole neighborhood knows
what the downy woodpecker’s
knocking out for breakfast
* * *
Dawn rush to the park
racks with warm onigiri
“Just grab everything”
* * *
Morning hike
crunching a cereal bar--
branch under fallen leaves
Vishal Prabhu hopes young birds will return as large ornamental peacocks with shiny blue-emerald feathers by next autumn in dusty Pune, India. Neena Singh unfurled an umbrella when she heard an echoing scream in Chandigarh, India. David Cox knelt at Battambang, Cambodia.
retreating pea-chicks
scattered by a dog…
summer day
* * *
summer rain
the peacock calls
a lost queen
* * *
observation--
two peacock feathers
at the altar
Allen David Simon visited the hills in Kerala, India, to see a blue-purple flower that blooms once every 12 years, only to wither as soon as it spread its spores.
Neelakurinji bloom--
twelve years in the making
a spiel, soft wilting
Marie Derley felt at home while visiting Doha.
visiting Qatar
I think I hear the song
of European swans
Japanese summers have lengthened by about three weeks over the 42 years from 1982 to 2023, according to researchers at Mie University who meticulously measured the start and ending dates of the four seasons. A.J. Johnson noted when a cicada went quiet in Stephens City, Virginia. Tejendra Sherchan traded blood for saliva in Kathmandu, Nepal. Stephen J. DeGuire didn’t need to slap a gnat in Los Angeles, California. Dorota Czerwinska had sticky fingers in Warsaw, Poland.
shrieking
all summer long
mirage jets
* * *
a mosquito bite
its venom drives me mad
all day long
* * *
mosquito
AHA! moment caught
in amber
* * *
on each side
buzzing wasps
sweet buns
Corine Timmer wrote from Faro, Portugal.
au naturel--
spring
in our union
Protected from the fiery sun by a massive tree in Cuttack, India, Choudhury penned his impression of the moment a ceasefire agreement was broken. Soumya Mukherjee bartered at a wet bazaar in Kolkata, India. Christina Chin traded up in Sarawak, Borneo.
silence shatters--
a dolphin gasp
chinar shades alone
* * *
monsoon sale
in five cents
the Buddha
* * *
down at the store
for a pound of flour--
choc chip ice cream
Amid all the noise this summer, T.D. Ginting kicked back and plugged in earphones to listen to “Star Wars” scores in Medan, Indonesia.
rare quietive
holiday, jukebox, pizza...
I’m watching five co(s)mic wars
War sounds made John Daleiden’s temperature rise in the normally serene Sonoran Desert, near Phoenix, Arizona.
all that noise
all that sound--
delusional rage
Brandon Favre knows “dark and stormy skies bring more thunder than rain in the Sonoran Desert,” near his home in Tempe, Arizona.
monsoon clouds come
and go
parched saguaros
Johnson listened to the wind whip up sand.
desert playa
a dust devil twirls
alkali salt
Originally shared by the spoken word, and then Japanese written on paper, haiku became international as it transcended the performative form with multi-languages including sign and gestures as well as digital representations. This poem by Stoianka Boianova in Sofia, Bulgaria, points the way toward the creation of universal haiku in three or more dimensions. Mona Bedi’s haiku pivots on whether the listener is with her in Delhi, India, or in the heavens above.
secret conversation
between us--
the universe listens
* * *
scattered stars
I drown in your
galactic presence
Hinano Nagamine searched for answers in Kagoshima. Ponting felt deceived.
Summer night breeze
questions drifting through my brain
sleep slips away
* * *
lost in a maze
of questions
the lie
As if hearing nails on a chalkboard, Archie G. Carlos cringed in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Versailles deal signing
the scratch of his sharpie
in a hollow hall
Looking forward to the Fourth of July holiday, M.R. Pelletier celebrated the length and breadth of America.
Yuma thunderstorms
eyeing the umbrella
I brought from Portland
Martina Agata Matijevic puffed on a seed head in Vidovci, Croatia.
dandelion fluff... his voice softens
Ashwell counted myriad shades of yellow.
more dandelions
than marigolds
a rampant border
John Hawkhead tended a cemetery plot in Bradford on Avon, England.
grass borders filled
with hymns of rain
planting a stone
Reciting in Wiltshire, England, Alan Summers read aloud this haiku at an interval of three whole tones between C and F sharp musical notes, noting the sequence in the rock band Black Sabbath’s heavy metal music.
any last requests
for the DJ in the sky
an extra tritone riff
Richard Bailly cocked an ear in Fargo, North Dakota. Nature masked unwanted sounds for Stania. Tsanka Shishkova intermittently watched football and the world news in Sofia, Bulgaria.
difficulty
hearing truth
white noise
* * *
Sunday walk--frogs drown out the cellphone conversations
* * *
World Cup
the roar of wars
silences the joy
American expat Ian Willey awoke early to watch two televised events from Takamatsu, Kagawa Prefecture, noting “in those moments, to your ears, the birds stop chirping and start singing, and even the traffic takes on a triumphant hum.”
subdued sunrise
our team settles
for the tie
* * *
open window
how the world sounds
when your team wins
Choudhury will mark the July 14 anniversary of the 1789 Storming of the Bastille in France.
French revolution--
the domestic help changes
an election poster
Christopher Calvin’s haiku expressed his “great concern about the political turmoil taking place” in Kota Mojokerto, Indonesia.
summer streets darken
shouts thrown, gases fired, then crash
tears roll heavy
Chen-ou Liu turned off summer in Ajax, Ontario.
war news on mute
lily petals curl inward
early July
Beata Czeszejko quietly closed the front door behind her in Warsaw, Poland.
moving out--taking a magpie feather with me
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Read what you hesitate to do at http://www.asahi.com/ajw/special/haiku/. The next issues of the Asahi Haikuist Network appear July 17 and 31. Readers are invited to respond to Matsuo Basho’s hokku: How piteous--beneath the warrior’s helmet a crying cricket, on a postcard to David McMurray at the International University of Kagoshima, Sakanoue 8-34-1, Kagoshima, 891-0197, Japan, or e-mail to mcmurray@fka.att.ne.jp.
* * *
David McMurray has been writing the Asahi Haikuist Network column since April 1995, first for the Asahi Evening News. He is on the editorial board of the Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku, columnist for the Haiku International Association, and is editor of Teaching Assistance, a column in The Language Teacher of the Japan Association for Language Teaching (JALT).
McMurray is professor of intercultural studies at The International University of Kagoshima where he lectures on international haiku. At the Graduate School he supervises students who research haiku. He is a correspondent school teacher of Haiku in English for the Asahi Culture Center in Tokyo.
McMurray judges haiku contests organized by The International University of Kagoshima, Ito En Oi Ocha, Asahi Culture Center, Matsuyama City, Polish Haiku Association, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Seinan Jo Gakuin University, and Only One Tree.
McMurray’s award-winning books include: “Teaching and Learning Haiku in English” (2022); “Only One Tree Haiku, Music & Metaphor” (2015); “Canada Project Collected Essays & Poems” Vols. 1-8 (2013); and “Haiku in English as a Japanese Language” (2003).
