Week 1-2023 - Haibuno
Welcome to the first Haibuno of 2023!
Slight change ahead for 2023, instead of photos to accompany each days Haibun, I will be posting drawings. Photos will be posted on Thursdays instead.
Would you like to receive a drawing/haiku postcard?
Please send your name and snail-mail address to postcards at hargie dot com. And I’ll get one out to you tout de suite.
1 January 2023
Anticipation
always adventure and growth
ready to start New Year
The scholars of former times buried in their books and ill begotten fantasies would probably find the nodded prayer to the cell phone a wondrous thing. “What, you laugh at a cat jumping in and out of a box!” This future is tamed and inelegant. “What, you laugh at that subtle flavor of the doings of lowly folk!” The feeling that resonates beyond the words creates poetry for criticism. “That certainly has a different tune!” The tone lacks the moving language of the past. Only the shear quantity has an impressive ring. You say “going on the journey makes you feel alive, awake with the everything unbound.” They say “withdrawing quietly to a retreat is mutually delightful, otherwise you are inclined to be inattentive to all you see.”
2 January 2023
All year in one day
disrespect leads to spinning
exhausted and sad
The tales that no one bothers to tell anymore. The risks that are still moderately high. The cups of hot chocolate that are sipped by the bonfire. Flabbergasted that a thing such as a “phone lockbox” exists because it’s easier to lock it away instead of addressing your addiction. Eschar embodies self-destruction. At the cattle guard they give out free food, fentanyl testing strips, and Narcan. Four people have died this season because they weren’t wearing seat belts. Immolation overdrive. The acceleration of decline goes unchecked. There is an epidemic of exhausted and sad, and no one is talking.
3 January 2023
Day shooting moguls
rime ice, self-important dudes
avalanche cannons
She asks, why do you love the stormy days? I answer: a conversation with rime and graupel; a dance with obscured and chattery; a silence and a roar; a smile and a groan; a nod with fellow crazy, a steaming hot chocolate and chili cheeseburger; a lift alone, laps bounded by sore muscles and cramping calves; a seeping cold followed by a warm rush at 40 mph; an enveloping wrap of fog and blowing snow and surrender. A peace like no other, of mind, body, and spirit.
4 January 2023
Artsy fartsy dance
a master of dynamics
paint groovy visions
There’s a startling tapping overhead, 3 dots - 4 dots - 4 dots - 4 dots! They are installing insulation. It is entirely mundane. It is entirely magical expanding paper to protect us from cold. At least it doesn’t crawl into your skin and strangle you with damp and creeping. Down below I have the dregs of the coffee pot, a fork, a stack of paper, and a plan for abstraction. An abstraction or an extraction. One and the same. The goal is to haul lines, and cavort in the round. In between I’ll make some phone calls to make appointments to make things happen. Some day, maybe next week…
5 January 2023
Wondrous record pulls
baking cookies for my friends
fun on Friday night
What is your rhythm? The internal thing that keep you grooving. It is all new all the time, or a rendering of form different from what you’re accustomed to? Or does it change on a daily/hourly/minute basis? Or is it the is that used to be was? A wondrous hack, an infinite patch, or a lowly loud and irregular thunder. How do you form the light of the land and let it lie alone in splendor?
6 January 2023
Organ music groove
coyotes accompany
new rhythms of night
There is a certain urgency that is like a plague pounding on the back of my head. Git to it. To it, git! I want to commune with the past. I want to wallow in the tired of ‘got er done’. I want to sit on top of the sled in the snow and wiggle my wet toes in wool socks. I want to listen to the pine trees that are 22 minutes away from the gate. Tap. Tap. Tap. Where did you go just now. Did you commune in the present with someone you’ve never met? Does you heart feel cleansed and purified? The bright sun overhead has seduced you, hasn’t it? January is coyotes yipping and howling driving the neighbors dog into a frenzy. The birds return to weave flight over sage. Just around the corner and up the road we go, and where we. Stop.
7 January 2023
Packages go out
celebrating a New Year
reluctant quiet
...with dunking of cookies in coffee a plan.
8 January 2023
Stampede deep snow drifts
ceremonious frolic
nervous dog on sled
It always seems so far away, but it’s up the road, across the big highway, and past the winter barricades. Local Access Only. Local encompasses a vast space filled with car ranchers, yaks rambling under $30 million dollar homes, and cheap lots where you need to dynamite out holes for your septic. Up a little further there’s a grassy meadow buried under snow inhabited by spirited locals who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you if you stray slightly over the line. A taut line barbed and torturous. There’s even a stuffed man in a polo shirt and khaki pants noosed up tight to scarecrow you away. Drive on by and stay alive. Even further up you can post-hole while climbing the hill to commune with Aspen safely. Their slow intense heat keeping the fire of life stoked. It’s fully barricaded further and you can ski back to your truck. And trust that tomorrow will be another day ceremoniously sliding away!