Red Line Haiku text and video

Last Sunday, 17th April 2016, was International Haiku Poetry Day and my film poem Red Line Haiku was one of a number of poetry films featured as part of HaikuLife Haiku Film Festival by The Haiku Foundation in the US. My thanks to Jim Kacian, director  of the festival,  and to my fellow Hibernian Poet Maeve O’Sullivan who drew it to my attention.

There is a link to my film here.

A couple of people who enjoyed the film have asked to see the text of the haiku sequence, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it!



not even morning…

eyes close as the tram shudders

house lights coming on




buzz in my pocket

battery almost run down –

the mountains don’t care




cold wind at Kylemore

blear island in a smoke sea

oh please close the doors




eyes bent to phone light,

night and morning cross without

either one speaking




the east lighting up

burnt gold over drab buildings –

I stare at my phone




Red Cow Bluebell bends

into Blackhorse Goldenbridge –

so many colours




seagulls on canal – how do they not miss the sea?




James’ s hospital

end of the line for many:

not for me – not yet




children on the tram

next stop Probation Service –

on flows the river




one-sided blather

look away from your neighbour

dream lives not your own




push through numb bodies

the doors close on your ankle

unhurt embarrassed




ghosts in Smithfield square

haunting the benches, the law

calls them out by name




warm cans passed around

wonder what that life could be –

it could have been mine




crow taps my window

numbers march in a column –

start over again




phone’s shrill insistence

I will ignore it for now

no one can see me




dull meeting:

in a drab room opposite

a tired girl dresses




Angelus bell clangs

never sounded so foreign –

what country is this?




I hear my own voice

but I don’t recognize it –

who have I become?




voice over tannoy

murmurs vague words from the past –

I am my father



the dogs in the street

barking at leaves as they fall –

seen then forgotten




spoon out routine days

in hours that pass in lifetimes

forget your own name




warm rain on bare heads

the streets wet at evening

must get umbrella




soft lights of the pub

impossibly attractive –

swallow bitter draught




on my own again

eyes always drawn to the door –

what are you watching?




girl in a doorway

checks her lips in a hand glass –

curse fugitive love




old man with a bag

tests the bins for a bottle –

curse fugitive God




new moon blesses night – who blesses the night walker?




back on the Red Line

night muddies the windows

with an orange glare



Categories: Uncategorized

Comments (2)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *