haiku by

K. Ramesh

soapbubbles

haiku by

K. Ramesh

soapbubbles

soap bubbles

© ��� K� RameshISBN �����������������

Red Moon PressPO Box &��Winchester VA��&����� USAwww�redmoonpress�com

I would like to thank the editors of the following journals andanthologies in which these poems have appeared: Still5 Pres�ence5 Frogpond5 The Heron's Nest5 Mainichi Daily News5Mayfly5 Acorn5 Snapshots5 Asahi Haikuist Network5 HaikuMoments5 Haiku Novine5 Modern Haiku5 Paper Wasp5 Haijinx5Bottle Rockets5 Tinywords�com5 Road Runner5 Wisteria andother magazines that publish haiku and short poetry� Alsothese anthologies : Pegging The Wind5 edited by Jim Kacian5Red Moon Press� Wild Flowers5 New Leaves—A collection ofWorld Haiku5 edited by Susumu Takiguchi5 World Haiku Club�

I am grateful to Dr Angelee Deodhar for her art work�

I wish to thank S� Rajiv5 E� R� Vinayan5 B� Saravanan5 GeetaRamanujam5 and all my colleagues at The School5 KFI fortheir encouragment and support�

A Soffietto Book

to Nimmi and Anita

Introduction

The haiku collected in Soap Bubbles clearlyreveal that K� Ramesh is a man fully andsensitively engaged in the world� He isconnected yet not attached� His insightsare profound yet he does not proselytize�In fact5 what appears most plentifully inRamesh’s work is pure joy� Everywhere heturns5 it seems5 he finds wonder� He seesgreat wealth in what far too many peoplewould dismiss as inconsequential� Howheartening then5 to know that Ramesh isa school teacher in Chennai5 India� Hishaiku give evidence that he must be out�standing in his profession for he does whatonly the best teachers and haiku poets do5he uses skillful means to guide our atten�tion away from himself and towards thosethings which inspired him—epiphanies heknows we will best grasp when allowed todo so for ourselves� Ramesh accomplishesthis through deft use of juxtaposition andsubtle implication� His haiku are multi�

layered; the images on the surface natu�rally draw us deeper5 eliciting emotionsand often bringing to light truths acces�sible solely by intuition� Ramesh managesall of this without losing his sense of hu�mor� I tell you truly5 I have a nearlyirresistable urge to ask Ramesh if he willaccept me as one of his students� Un�doubtedly5 I am too old and set in myways5 but maybe he’ll accept the child stillwithin me5 the one he conjures forth ev�ery time I read his haiku�

Christopher HeroldFebruary �5 ���

soapbubbles

soapbubbles

curve of the waterjug � � �the whole familyeating dinner

owner's tree � � �for the tenant upstairs5a view of blossoms

power failure—closing the bookI listen to rain

on the eavesof the old temple � � �the morning sun

summer evening—the red fire extinguishergets wet in the rain

evening sunboys play cricketon the riverbed

summer afternoona pail with rope restson the rim of the well

soft rain � � �river with a bendin the distance

cloudcast afternoon—corn poppingon the stove

soap bubblesfrom a children's park � � �break a traffic rule

rainy night—a tortoise eatsfrom the dog's plate

summer morning—a snail crossesthe hopscotch lines

vendor on the beach—from hand to handthe spinning pinwheel

sunrise � � �a tiny crab quicklyavoids the waves

leafless trees� � � the sea visible again

rainy night—gazing at the ceiling5jerk of a spider

dawn breaking—between the callsof two cuckoos

a yellow leaftouching the green oneson its way down

back from my hometown � � �scent of ripe mangoesin the empty bag

fading evening light—small glow of a lampup in the mountain

morning breezea butterfly swayswith the blossom

passing by the market—eye of the fishfacing the blue sky

breezy afternoon—making a kite againafter many years

first summer rain—my hand outsidethe train's window

april evening—a blossom leanson the pillar

tossing the ballto serve � � �birds in the sky

dawn � � �the neighbour's newbornstops crying

a dead end—white blossomsover the wall

twilight � � �a boy brings downhis kite

cloudy afternoon—a chrysanthemum bloomsin the paper�folder's hand

dawn � � �amid bird calls5sound of a broom

a surprise—the little girlopens her hand � � � a shell

abandoned dog � � �looking at the face ofevery pedestrian

stars appear � � �the flower vendorstrings jasmine

sunrise � � �I let the fishbite my toes

railway station � � �a banyan tree's rootsyet to reach the ground

yellow leaves � � �I search fora tennis ball

scented blossoms—a tailor sewingin the rain tree's shade

dawnI come face to facewith a mountain

alone tonightlight on my bedroom wallfrom the neighbour’s house

dawn � � �a truck driver washeshis face by the highway

New Year’s Eve—a man digging a pitstrikes his shadow

no breeze—children on branchessway their legs

a village asleep—moonlit lanesbetween the houses

cloudcast sky—the camera withouta shadow on the table

cloudy sky—a little boy imitatesthe cuckoo

dark clouds gather � � �prayer flags flutteron the terrace

long afternoon—the peanut vendor's belljingles in another street

scent of blossomsher house at the endof the avenue

small railway station � � �a gypsy boy runs afterhis puppy on the platform

redwood tree���I walk backwardholding the camera

chirping of sparrows � � �sunrays on the buddhain the temple

projector switched off � � �on the white screenshadows of bamboo

starlit sky � � �I touch a turtlebefore it enters the sea

cobwebs—the smile onBuddha's face

friend's house—I make tea forboth of us

summer dawn � � �cuckoo after cuckooafter cuckoo

turning the page5I turn it back again—a little ant

conversation overI touch a petal � � �real blossoms

empty cowshed � � �a little bird drinkswater from the pail

sunny morning—his basket fullof spinning pinwheels

dusk—chatter of frogs outsidethe teacher's house

winter eveningthe newborn calfeyes everybody

drifting clouds—the exam hallbright sometimes

summer evening—the water I drink tastesof the earthen pot

full moon—everything in its placein the kitchen

monday morning—a bird escapes fromthe cat's grip

twilit river—lamps glow in the templeon the other bank

dawn � � �a cuckoo's call deepensthe silence

meditation over � � �the cricketsstill chirping

watching the waves � � �a stray dog settlesbeside me

rainy morning—the old beggar not thereoutside the tea shop

afternoon breeze—sound of the loomfrom the weaver’s house

first summer rain—the flower vendorlingers on the porch

dinnertime—a grain of ricefor the praying mantis

sunny morning—the rooster challengesthe bull again

evening breeze—hundreds of lamp flamessway in the temple

leaves falling � � �some on the boulder5some in the stream

moonlit bridge—an ant moveson the railing

purple dawn � � �a flock of sheepgives way to the bus

row of faces � � �a school bus passingby the sea

she sayslife is � � �as I pass by the couple

rainy afternoon—egrets walkin the football field

fading lightkicking a cracked ballthe hollow sound

misty dawn—shutters openin the tea shop

blue sky � � �she tunesmy guitar

spring morning—the faded capof the gardener

summer evening—I join her watching rainfrom the window

fierce bull � � �a little birdon the hump

summer evening—the scent of fresh loavesas I pass the bakery

soap bubblesfrom a children’s park � � �break a traffic rule

poem: K� Rameshartwork: Angelee Deodhar

ISBN ����������������� Haiku/Poetry �

“These are poems about the edges of things—dawns anddusks5 the curve of a water jug5 the ocean shore� That thesepoems from India are so immediately available to readersaround the world speaks movingly of the power of the tinyhaiku in the hands of a true communicator�”

John Stevenson (Editor5 Frogpond)