low gold traces the profiles of houses ten white breaths longHaiku Society of America Members’ Anthology 2021
cappuccino beards my friend tells me I am her lunch breakHAIKU DIALOGUE – Nov 03, 2021
Hey, crow hopping – looking Shiny!Poetry Pea Journal 1:22
Commentary by Kenneth Slaughter
This poem has all the elements of a Kerouac haiku. The subject of the poem, a crow, is treated in a unique and unexpected way. The poem doesn’t follow the conventions of haiku, such as capitalization rules, and there is no juxtaposition of images. There is punctuation in the middle of line 2, which is not usual. Most importantly, the poem demonstrates a keen sense of observation. Kerouac always wrote what he saw.
Let’s consider it line by line:
1st line: Hey, crow
The crow is addressed personally, and informally. The comma makes it sound even more informal – as in Hey, buddy. When read aloud, the line is just a bit louder because of the comma. This is quite a contrast in tone with Basho’s famous poem:
on a withered branch a crow has settled autumn evening
2nd line: hopping – looking
The motion described is: hopping (pause), then looking, as birds do. The stress in both words is on the first syllable, so the line kind of hops along. The dash between words forces the reader to pause, like the bird does, before it looks around. Birds have a herky-jerky motion, which is mimicked well in the rhythm of this poem.
3rd line: Shiny!
Now looking is read differently: looking/Shiny! The dash in line two facilitates this reading. So the dash assists both readings of the word looking, and we get a little surprise in the last line.
The word Shiny is capitalized. Capitalizing Hey in line 1 makes sense when you consider that Kerouac often capitalized the first word of his haiku. But why capitalize shiny? The answer is that it dresses the word up, as does the exclamation point at the end. It’s as if the crow were all decked out in a black tuxedo.
The poem’s overall effect is to personalize the bird and make him look attractive and appealing. Crows are often associated with impermanence or impending doom in folklore and literature. In this poem, the writer tells us to forget about that symbolism and just look at the bird. That is quintessential Kerouac.
Hey, crow hopping – looking Shiny!
twigs in my path i snap into the now
Wales Haiku Journal, Spring ’22
dumping my old doll in the attic a dead waspHaiku Society of America Members’ Anthology 2022
my pacing calabash calabash
whiptail, issue 4: humbled vessle
earthworms i breathe with my steps betweenKingfisher #6 | “Fractured by Cattails” 2023 HSA Members’ Anthology | Pan Haiku Review #2
Hunting Moon
Kati Mohr & Jerome Berglund
leafmouse
whistle softly
between the rows
can’t take this
a motion
cat paws
twitching
raven wings
in the dark
troop of skittish kids
run for it
scattering starlings
Setu Volume 7, Issue 6
pale clouded yellow the unknown names on our family gravePoetry Pea Journal 3:22
in a shower of cherry petals how to zazen?Poetry Pea Journal 3:22
what I have learnt cocoons spinning in the airPoetry Pea Journal 3:22
spoon feeding memories
whiptail, issue 5: as the now takes hold
altocumuli all sparrows fly but oneWales Haiku Journal, Autumn ’22
The Pan Haiku Review, Issue 1
HORSE MANEtell me what you want
a still road at night forgotten things
Presence Haiku Journal, Issue #76
Sounding depths
Jerome Berglund & Kati Mohr
steamroller
tear it down
buildingrebuilding
Potsdamer Platz
you can stand in front of
crickets clue me
behind these blinds
an open window
just spray wheels off
2015
we thought cars could
fly
Coalitionworks Journal CW4, Summer 2023
magnolias dripping even after a day a daywhiptail, issue 7: shape-shifting
SEA CHANGE: An Anthology of Single-Line Poems
Carnival of the Animals
Kati Mohr & Jerome Berglund
squirrels
angel wings of decay
on the red tenement:
pose for photos
barely scratching at
sound of dew
a sand gecko licks
its eyeballs
sorry
flood waters
reach the roof
sob story
Lothlorien Poetry Journal, June 2023
fomo my sulky phone
Prune Juice Journal, Issue 40
Eclipsed the sticky road under my shoes stardust from dusk till dawn locusts on the windscreen we all are the sum of our parts sometimes a crackle of wipers dearly wanting to move this is the solution drink as if the Red Sea will be zippedfailed haiku, Volume 8, Issue 92
first mild night all the field flowers blackKingfisher #8
coast pines the other side of growingKingfisher #8
2023 Marlene Mountain Memorial Contest
Judged by Rowan Beckett and Vandana Parashar
Second Place
and i
the fine slackline
and i
and i
This minimal but loaded ku is exquisite. The repetition and careful placement of “and i” creates an echoing effect, and at the same time gives a sense of trepidation. We can feel the uncertain steps and swaying as we wade through this ku, just as we wade through life. What draws me in is the way it resonates with how we live our life precariously as if perpetually walking on a slackline. An experimental ku that I feel many will be able to relate to.
Commentary by Vandana Parashar
Shortlisted for The Touchstone Awards 2023
closing lotus through the dark I wait for bloom Schließender Lotus Durch das Dunkel warte ich auf die BlüteBlithe Spirit, Volume 33, Number 4
just because the sound of wind through grass“Change”, The British Haiku Society Members’ Anthology 2023
blue periodPan Haiku Review, issue 2 (Alan Summers)
the cover
breathing feebly
Seasonal depression is connected with the shortening of daylight mostly in winter aka winter blues. — Kati Mohr
thundercloud the cosmos turns snowcapped crocusWales Haiku Journal, Winter 2023/2024
the moonBlithe Spirit Journal, Volume 34, Number 1
just the moon
all over again
Desire path
Kati Mohr & Lakshmi Iyer
crescent sun
one by one
about to take off
wide-eyed birds
the back of a doe
hollow
a single drop of water
nestles
rounding
shapes of stars
i rethink as to where
we belong
Split Peas Journal, #1
28 teeth clenched in my fist overnight breathless wren
Kingfisher Issue 9, April 2024
dead-nettle nectar
we keep quiet about the gap
on the pantry shelf
Kingfisher Issue 9, April 2024
she drags the child by its name spring tide
‘PUDDOCK’ multi-media haiku journal, 10. August 2024
Psychosis
|| : a basketball dribbles : ||
fff
HSA Members’s Anthology 2024: Hauling The Tide
shaking the bottle until a total seven magpies
#FemkuMag, issue 36, Summer 2024
nominated for the 2024 Touchstone Award for Individual Poem
store koi
swallowing
a pill moon
Wales Haiku Journal, Autumn 2024
what does it mean
to love myself
I slip
a creased note
between two books
the art of tanka, issue 3
leaving
the puddle
what have I done
the should have
could have
aus der Pfütze
tretend
was habe ich nur getan
das hätte sollen
hätte können
Blithe Spirit Journal, 35.1
and so kindness takes turns inside out
Password 2.1, February 2025
Nazi lingo—
the white rose* signs
in full flower
*The White Rose (German: Weiße Rose) was a non-violent, intellectual resistance group in Nazi Germany which was led by five students and one professor at the University of Munich. The group conducted an anonymous leaflet and graffiti campaign that called for active opposition to the Nazi regime. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Rose
prune juice, Issue #45
an attempt
at silence
an empty box
fills itself
with odds and ends
Ribbons Spring/Summer: Volume 21, Number 1
between the lines a green herring opens a window
#FemkuMag Issue 39, Summer 2025
me no pause
Prune Juice issue 46
Kakureru
cat and I
are not
very nice
things are not
that easy
the girl hugs her legs
across the stripes of sunlight
to find
the shop is closed
at least the store owner’s cat
sells
yawns
Pan Haiku Review issue 5 (Summer 2025)
Forgive me
that I possess only
the heart of a child,
turned towards shadow play,
unblinded by the light.
the art of tanka, issue 5
my summer lake
. . . of tiny moustaches
or fishtails . . .
Pan Haiku Review, issue 6
Women,
made ghosts,
foxglove.
Pan Haiku Review, issue 6
the fiend inside
how you
name it
Prune Juice Journal, issue 47
Sashiko
tanabata
I wish I had
a normal life
dreams of water
deeper and deeper
combing hair
where can I go
where I can be
a stairway of uneven hewn stones
a straight face—
what else is there
to keep?
people
but they do
bite
each step home slower
the dirty
kimono
drying in the wind
the kimono
the mind
who
is this girl
me?
a wind chime
how does it feel
to smile
fever
saving herself
on a small turf hill
the lost child
hugging a lost child
in the ruins of a tower
the story ends
where it begins
with a view
Prune Juice Journal, issue 47
Prune Juice Journal, issue 47
pi & anne 