Haïku de la chandelle

The candle is bright

Just until the morning sun

Appears in the sky

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La chandelle brille

Jusqu'au moment où au ciel

Paraît le soleil

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Claude Lopez-Ginisty

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Ecrit pour la joute poétique chevaleresque

Tackle It Tuesday, "Bright"

Low tide

Brooks always go to rivers

and rivers finally

 end up in the sea

your dreams go everywhere

floating here and there

and they are washed ashore 

by the high tide of reality

and you realize bitterly

that real life is often 

like the morning dew

faking tears on flowers

and vanishing when you try

to catch its pearls 

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Haven

What you cannot express

(your feelings

and your dreams)

remains clad in silence and secret

for a long time 

that seems everlasting

but one day very easily

everything comes out under the sun

and your pen

(echoes like sighs

and words like celestial music

of newly composed symphonies)

and this suddenly starts a tide of tears

that breaks against the cliffs

of oblivion and fear

and you remember that undoubtedly

once you were a child

and you believed 

the world to be a safe haven

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Vision

The love fireflies that I so loved

like birds of the soul

drive all illusions

to the garden of the past

the wisdom of black suns

condemn prisoners's songs

for heroes died a long time ago

and exiled loves 

sentence all poems to death

this very night

travels eternally

all around the world

on the wings of an invisible dove

the earth is maimed for life

I fear its mushroom clouds

flying upwards from the springs

 of polluted power

I managed somehow

to conceal my music

and the words of my hymns

just in time for the high tide

to help them catch a wave

O you deep ocean

with your thousand caressing hands

renew love

the two-souled Archangel !

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Night Haïku

Let the night come in

With its dark oblivious shroud

To bury your pain

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Words

We really cannot communicate

our lingua franca does not convey

the real meaning of our conversation

you say things that you do not believe

and try to convince me

that I should take them seriously

because you are superbly clad

in complacency 

you speak about a rose

without mentioning its thorns

you talk like a song

but you are out of tune

when you say Love

I understand hatred

when you mention God

I feel like an atheist

your words are like clouds

with an appearence of reality

that ends up abruptly

and even your silence 

has the stench of death

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Exile

Dawn came fast

with its red sun peeping

at the sleeping landscape

trees were slowly exhaling

a white misty cloud towards the sky

birds filled the morning air

with wild symphonies of songs

whilst sunbeams wiped away

the tiny tears of dewdrops

on the small hands of plants

the door was locked

the key remained in its keyhole

and we left

for ever

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Geese

Geese crying in the sky

strange voice of pain

sadly reading  

the subtle calligraphy

their flight produces 

against the foam of clouds

in the ocean above

the meaning of this

is utterly unknown 

but it is heart-rending

and when heavens

become still again

it does feel as though 

a curtain of haze was falling

on the last act

of a human tragedy

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

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Illustration: Estampe d'Hokusai, 

Crédit 

Haïku of the dragonfly

It's ordinary

Until you see with your heart

And are overwhelmed

Claude Lopez-Ginisty
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Photo:
Danielle Wollensack


written for 
HAIKU HEIGHTS

Ordeal

When they parted

none of them was truly conscious

that days would be different

but soon a chasm

appeared in their joy

as if absence created a void

deep in their souls

When they parted 

none of them really expected

nights to be less friendly

but soon a crack

was shown in their dreams

as if they had lost the capacity

of surviving ordeals

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Dead music

The music stopped suddenly

but the band had left earlier on

in our merry hearts

the subtle echo of melodies

was progressively replaced

by the dull shroud of silence

wanting to keep something 

of the magic in our minds

we tried to whistle

the tunes that were gone then

but our lips refused 

to utter a single sound

and we sighed 

a mute symphony

that disrupted the landscape

deep in our souls

and withered all our flowers

under a stony sun

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Old Friends

They suddenly dive in your soul

with all the weight of their lives

pretending that the past

is dead and buried in oblivion

but the high tide of memory

washes old images to the shore

of your benevolent mind

and your heart starts beating

an ancient tempo long forgotten

and painful

and sad

tears like pearls of distress

appear in your eyes

and you pretend to laugh

to conceal the deep injury

cut open in a past scar of yours

night ends up your day

like a black shroud

that buries your last illusions

your soul like theirs

has not yet mastered

the quietude of prayer

that brings solace and forgiveness

Claude Lopez-Ginisty 

Haïku/Gypsy Music

Gipsy melodies

My heart becomes a true fire

And my soul dances

Claude Lopez-Ginisty


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Painting:
Van Gogh's The Caravans (1888)

Haïku of the Rose

The poems you write

Fail to capture the beauty

Of a single rose

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Ton poème hélas

Ne capturera jamais

La beauté des roses

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Claude Lopez-Ginisty

Love Haiku

Locked in my true love-

Every cell of my prison

Is hugs and kisses

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

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for

HaikuHeights 147

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Landscapes

The landscape is inside yourself

hidden and secret

deep in the realm of memories

with lakes of tears 

sunny smiles 

and tender green bushes 

where your dreams nested

in the old days

you look at it

you sigh and wonder

why a mere sight of nature

could make you feel 

so weak and so lost

and yet so happy

you dwelled long enough

in all those magic landscapes

making them in a subtle way 

the ideal scenery

of home-made plays

where you were the hero

the landscape is inside yourself

and when there is a storm

now it seems to you 

that your tears

provide the heavy rain

Claude Lopez-Ginisty

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Photo:

Danielle Wollensack