Category Archives: Haibun


There is something sweet in the longing and uncertainty. When you finally get to the top and you look down, everything that frightened you before suddenly looks nicer somehow. Expectation and sweet stage fright, butterflies in your belly. Now you long for that feeling again – to feel just for a moment, sweet trembling and a fear of the unknown.


I feel like it’s time for some changes and the new beginnings.

If you like what I do, please follow me on my new blog: Downy Dreams



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“A little girl like you shouldn’t be out after 7 pm”, I said when I noticed her chestnut eyes glued on me.

“When I was a kid, I had to be in bed just after the cartoon. You know, a cartoon was starting at 7:15 and it never lasted more then 5 minutes. Look at the clock! It shows 19:19 and you haven’t brushed your teeth yet”, I continue to preach.

She stands there, saying nothing, just looking at me and making me feel that I owe her something.

It must be that I’ve disappointed her somewhere along the way. I wish if could find out exactly when and where. I would put the most wonderful smile on her face again, I promise.

in the sky
pole star


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H(aibun) H(aiga) H(aiku)


If he was alive, James Dean and I would celebrate our birthdays on the same date. When I was young, I was really proud of that fact and very often I quoted a famous statement connected to him: “Live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse.” Of course, I never wanted to die young, but I liked those charisma and the rebellion that shined from him.

How strongly I disagree nowadays! Die young and leave a good looking corpse? Beauty is something that shines from within and that’s the only way for me to measure someone’s charisma. Some people become old in the young age and some are young with the gray hair and wrinkles all over the skin.

At some point of my life, I found myself very old, almost dead. Then I woke up again with the spring sun and no intention to return back into the winter dream.

wooden boat
waiting for a sailor
May after May



“Write a poem about me”, he begged. “Are you my prince?”, I asked. “You’ll never find out if you don’t kiss me”, he replied. At that moment, I noticed a dead dragonfly under the dock.

goodbye frog!
I give up
on haiku

draft message 
waits to be deleted
new moon


almost midnight
sound of brakes
through the window




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I can’t exactly remember when some of my dreams turned into reality, but it’s strange how they suddenly ceased to be dreams. And then – what? A man without dreams is like a rose without petals. Only thorns, dried up, left to frighten ill-intentioned fingers.

Someone wise wrote: “If you love a flower, don’t pick it up.” I haven’t seen this warning earlier or maybe I was just too young to understand so I’ve cut some buds here and there, I admit.

in a mild breeze
drops of dew

Linked to Carpe Diem #1419 Rose Garden (kikobun)


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I’m my own teacher and an apprentice.

in the bushes along the road – signposts

Linked to Carpe Diem #1417 apprentice (one-bun)


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Without a joke, spring breaks through the old wooden fence.

following the scent of lilac – a restless heart


Linked to Carpe Diem #1415 Perfume of Spring (one-bun)


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The gate closed behind me and once again, an old goalkeeper in a glass hut sinked into a dream in front of his black-and-white monitor.
As I drive back, I breathe deeply, trying to pull into myself even the thinest sun’s ray that runs through the still bare branches.
Then I stop and stand in front of the familiar stone wall. Fingering over the letters, I read once more the well-known rules.
Sometimes it takes so little for happiness – a couple of warm words and a kiss for a good morning.

plum brandy
and a rising sun
balms for a wound

Linked to Carpe Diem’s Crossroads #5 scent of plum blossoms


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I’m afraid that all of the dreams made about you could be scattered like a dust, if I just open my palm. That’s why I jealously keep them in a clenched fist under the pillow and hide them there, far from the moonlight and all curious stars. I’m sorry if those pressures feel too strong sometimes, but without you I wouldn’t have anything to dream about. I just want to you to be safe.

whistling wind
hidden between the clouds
April sun


Linked to Carpe Diem #1400 The Awakening, a love poem by Rumi


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Every single time, before I get into the taxi cab, I pay attention on its’ number. I don’t know why, I never memorize them. I have no clue what number I saw today, but when I opened the door and heard that horrible music, I knew it was him! Poor man, he has no idea how famous he is. Maybe not to others, but in my World he surely is since the morning when my Higher Self jumped into his body and asked me about the things I should ask myself. After that drive. I become upset every time when I see his face, but seems like he doesn’t remember me at all. He has never spoken to me again and to be honest, I hope he never will. What happened that day? I really don’t know, but I know that today I’m standing face to face with all my dreams buried long time ago.

oh, this breeze
familiar melody 
as a lullaby

Linked to Carpe Diem #1395 The Dream


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You are getting old, aren’t you? Me, too, faster and faster. Somehow, this spring rain decided to water me, like a seed placed into the ground. I don’t rejoice too much, I have to say. I hope that I don’t sound too gloomy while I grumble looking for the colors in these March days.

We are what we see in others, I know. That’s why I wonder how may different worlds settled down inside of me. Is my heart so huge?

I try to figure out where the dreams go when the raindrops disperse them from the pillows. Maybe they just hide somewhere under the beds and wait for some other magical morning while we seek for them under the other’s coats. I dunno.

empty bowl
in a beggar’s hand
sky fills with tears

Linked to Carpe Diem #1389 Begging Bowl


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