My most ambitious videopoetry project, dating back to when I was still splitting my time between Pennsylvania and London, UK, before Covid and the dissolution of my marriage.
A 30-minute film comprising 33 of the 80 videohaiku I made in 2019, pulled together originally for REELpoetry/Houston TX in January 2020. My selection focused on variety of approach and what works best as videopoetry, not necessarily those with the most successful haiku. The complete cycle consists of four, seasonal sequences:
Here are the haiku selected for this distillation:
winter trees
the hobo is missing
one of his fingers
January
the shrinking circle
of my needs
snowflakes
on my bald head
tapping woodpecker
Groundhog Day
the former coal town living
off its shadow
walking the line
on both sides the same
light rime
a flutter of snowflakes
a flurry of snowbirds
an afterlife of seeds
no dark side of the moon
where a Chinese probe
is growing plants
winter sun
hoisting all its bristles
into the treetops
spider on the snow
the granularity of land
underfoot
shedding its snow
the new
old mountain
counting the rings
in the wood frog pond
another year
bee or not
the daffodils
keeping faith
wind flowers
the way Beethoven heard
an ode to joy
budburst time
the returned vet says he went
straight to the woods
spring rain
learning that Dad
has Parkinson’s
railroad ties
crowd the vanishing point
fiddleheads
red eft—
how salamandery
this path
this habit
of inhabiting hills
the ants and me
commuter train
all the fingers stroking
immobile phones
cows on the common
the universal language
of grief
jackdaw in residence
working with
found materials
dog walking
the slant rhymes
of our shadows
midnight snail
the twenty-six hundred teeth
of its tongue
British Museum
bury me with a bronze
selfie stick
steel band
the oil drums
that drive us
peace garden
the nonresistance
of leaves
churchyard labyrinth
zeroing in
on the X
skyline
the immensity
of our loss
wet sidewalk
beneath the fallen leaves
another sky
London after Blake
bearded hipsters open
a pop-up brothel
in this human city
an ash tree sings
possessed by starlings
November rain
a mouse forages
under the garden table
moon at the station
imagine belonging
to just one place