I have never been a great fan of haiku. I baulk at the fuss about form and question whether a Westerner can ever achieve the detachment from ego necessary to dominate the genre or indeed whether this is a desirable goal.

Here, nevertheless, are some loosely constructed haiku poems I wrote last week during a thunderstorm.

Urban Haiku #1

Rain tips down parallel

to tower blocks

to a drumbeat from above.

Lightning lost in city lights.

Urban Haiku #2

Streetlights twinkle

in the downpour,

dripping tears of water

between the trees.

Urban Haiku #3

A single lit window

half-way up a skyscraper

winks out into the night.

Urban Haiku #4

The weight of rain

weighs down power cables

like tropical icicles

Urban Haiku #5

The dark mass of two mango trees

frames a streetlight

and a reddish patch of sky

Urban Haiku #6

Pets flee the sudden light and noise

seeking refuge under sofas and beds.

Urban Haiku #7

A lull in rain

brings out frogs

and dimly lit Windows

Urban Haiku #8

The sky blackens;

the image transmitted by Sky

Is pixelated

Urban Haiku #9

Relief comes

to a city

set again

in sharp relief;

water seeps

into earth.

 

Urban Haiku #10

Calmed

barely audible thunder rumbles

faraway,

like someone secretly clearing out an attic

for a midnight flit

Urban Haiku #11

Odd drops drip from leaves

in the still night

before dawn