Shahai - Brandy hole, taken from SWF side of the river.
The pond
surrounded Wollemi pines at Markshall estate in Coggleshall. (a species from
when dinosaurs roamed the earth). The estate holds the biggest collection of
these pines outside of their native
.jpeg)
By
Robert Kingston
Sci-fi ku
(To hear commentary on the three short listed poems click on the link below)
sky ladder
the Devil’s tongue licks
the stars
by Robert Kingston
Honourable mention
Poetry pea 2024
false hope
there was a tree named oak
he’d shed all his leaves, no joke
he stood there all bare
throughout winters austere
then in spring, he grew a new cloak
Copyright Robert Kingston
there
was a tree named oak
he’d
shed all his leaves, no joke
he
stood there all bare
throughout
winters austere
then
in spring, he grew a new cloak
Robert
Kingston
By Robert Kingston
all at once
Out into the shadows of mighty cranes trod
the cherry on the corner
Distant sound of pulleys, wires whining through the sky
releases its blossom
Muffled sounds of toiling, on occasion a ship's fog horn
we reflect on memories
A milkman laughs and whistles,
in the family home
As birds traverse through Autumn's dewy ply.
By Robert Kingston ~ from (Pan Haiku Review, August 2024)
A Junicho (renku)
Started July 2023
Complete October
2023
Campsite Magpies
fragrant breeze
campsite magpies gather
around a bin bag
rk
a flash shower
tops the water
bucket pc
checking off
another thing to do
before I die
lmp
an evening of blues
and table clank
db
the harvest moon
pops up between lotus
leaves
in a temple pond.
ak
clock work orange
in the midst of Autumn's
first chill db
a car trembles
with the weight of two
in the parking lot.
ak
Casanova scarfing down
a plate of oysters
lmp
crushed shells
form a path through
The Mar-a-Lago Club.
rk
cancer cells
limited within the
gland. ak
until sunset
we dance in fields
of daffodils
pc
as far as the eye can see
hilltopping
butterflies. lmp
Sabaki - Robert Kingston
rk - Robert Kingston
pc - Pris Campbell
db- Don Baird
lmp - Linda Papanicolaou
ak - Amoolya Kamalnath
Campsite Magpies”
—Frogpond 47:2 Spring/Summer 2024
A Haibun and a Haiku
By Rob Kingston
Aligning stars
How weird, you're thinking about something
that has come through spiritual lines and you open today's wordle and type a
relative word.
strike one
the clatter of skittles
dancing on the floor
Haiku
gong bath
a bit of me in full
chakra colours
Both were published
in last month's Blithe Spirit Volume 34, number 2
a renku
from Rob Kingston
published in the British journal, Blithe Spirit yesterday.
CHILD’S HAND (Shisan)
nursery garden
a single cherry
blossom
in the child’s
hand
rk
balloons
roll across the
grass
ak
on the tin roof
light rain
rousts the sparrows
db
that summer night
more than
father would have
approved rk
her prince
left hugging his
pillow
dreams glass
slippers
pc
the hairpin bend
reveals resting
tahrs
ak
behind the band
shell
a clarinet
gathers dust and
rust
pc
fog slides in
to join us for hors
d'oeuvres db
the Man in the Moon
beams gently through
a hospice room
ak
SS Kidwelly
still speaks of its
ghosts
rk
downstream
a bonfire
smokes canyon
walls
ak
hieroglyphics
for decoding come
morning pc
Sabaki - Linda
Papanicolaou
rk - Robert Kingston
ak - Amoolya Kamalnath
db- Don Baird
pc - Pris Campbell.
Triage
Robert Kingston
these interruptions
that start her tears
Spring rain
We had been walking in the woods before opting for the patio at the old café beneath the arches. The sea playing a soft rendition of a Chopin nocturne between the morning traffic holds some kind of draw. Our regular waitress, after setting our tray down on the table, asks if everything is okay. Placing a hand on her arm, I mention all is fine as a seal pops its head above a wave.
Post-treatment
A sugar lump in her tea
Disappears
By Robert Kingston
This one was published in
the haikuKATHA journal.
Have a merry Christmas and
new year.
See you in 2024
time warp
telling the youth
I was young once
Copyright Rob Kingston
Have a lovely Christmas and a happy new year everybody.
From Rob Kingston
world famine
the billionaire’s loose change
rattles the bucket
bee hive
each cell
its own summer
Blithe spirit, Museum of literature award (runner up) December 2023
post football
rain soaked scars all over
the pitch
And one for Christmas.
Christmas morning
a trail of paper follows
the dog
Haibun from Rob
Gone fishing
By Robert Kingston
I could swear that pockets of dust
exist in our minds. How else can it be explained when something that’s been
missing for so long reappears. Of course, I’m aware of the term lockers and
keys, and that generally it will be someone else or something that will
illuminate the way in.
art club
I fill the missing gaps
in my still life
A monoku
By Robert Kingston
foolish enough to miss
sticky fingers
a back of the hand view of
the licked clean spoon
even the shit shovelers see
it coming
crumbling concrete a
universe circles the paper trail
Copyight Robert
By Robert Kingston
I take people's comments lightly
these days.
a twister
of course, I listen to each word
as if it were a chant let loose from the local chapel
begins and ends
often they'll repeat the same
ole thing they’ve said so many times before
in the hay field
Copyright
Rob Kingston
