Broken

 

Broken typewriter...
How many poems
Are left inside it?



Published in Haikuniverse; a daily haiku or micro-poem.

 

During our first night

During our first night
Suddenly it wakes me up...
Haiku



I touched
The wayside stone...
I touched
The loneliness
Of the cosmos



I look in the mirror
I check
If I'm still here

Abandoned

Abandoned house...
Nightly, from the attic
Clatter of a typewriter



My above haiku was published on the Asahi Haikuist Network. The editor has also commented on my poem: "Fascinated by the creative process, the haikuist blends her own free will with that of a ghostwriter."
I think that a few reflections I share with the editor in my email to him were, at least partly, inspirating for him, for his conclusion. So, here they are (my reflections about the  creative process): "[...] the source of [my] poem lies in my fascination by the creative process; I've always wondered where is "the place" for free will during any kind of creativity. It seems that creator - writer, painter, etc. - can be free only if she/he agrees to be connected with greater force, greater will than his own. Besides, I like how my haiku shows another, "literal level" of phrase "ghostwriter" - of course it's as much literal as any ghost can be." 

One cup of melissa tea

One cup of melissa tea
And all the haiku went to sleep
Unwritten

Sultry twilight