blue sky–
just when evening comes
autumn wind~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)


Within the field of applied cognitive psychology it is noted that memory fragments are components of our autobiographical knowledge. It is noted that some autobiographical memories may be stand-alone snippets of one’s past, ‘fragment memories’ or memories of particular moments, ‘free fragments’.

I am acquainted with a mind filled with multiple crosscurrents of unfinished thoughts, stifled emotions, and passing moods. There is also a growing recognition that at times I am overwhelmed by discursive thoughts that are formed by habitual ways of thinking, led by my own various prejudices, impacted by personal preferences or aversions, colored by laziness or selfishness, and intensified by faulty or superficial observations. Sometimes I awaken to myself to find that while engaged in a behavior, my mind has entered a dreamlike state, and therefore events and conversations are vague and fragmentary.

The feeling of an “I” emerges from a reflection of the stream of experiential consciousness that awakens when I becomes aware of being observed by an internalized watcher or seer who is felt but never known. Therefore, there is no denying that there is a wavering consciousness, an “I”, that knits together streams of memories, thoughts, feelings, and interactions in such a manner that I am able to formulate an awareness of identity, continuity, striving, as well as an sense of myself and others.

… when we hold a flower we see that it is composed of multiple elements, some tangible – leaves, stem, thorns, petals, stamens – and others intangible – scent, color, memories. If you were to remove any of these constituent parts, would you find a known entity? As we are unable to find the flower in the absence of any one of these parts, we are also unable to find an enduring solid flower in any one of these elements. Hence the belief in a permanent solid self proves to be a mere illusion as we find a self riddled with gaps and ambiguities that appear coherent because of the monologue we keep repeating, editing, censoring, and embellishing in our minds.
This week’s lens-artists’ photo challenge – bushboys world – is indeed a challenge as I found myself tossed back into a couple of graduate school psych classes.
… we stand without talking, we stand with tears … to think that I must travel a thousand miles of mist and rain and water! The evening clouds are gathering again, and the sky widens to the south. It is an old story: parting from [loved ones is] full of pain … ~Li Yung
See the mist around my pavilion: before my eyes there is mist all about. It is the image of my sadness, the reflection of my dull, still eyes. Forever will my dull eyes stare at you, pale mist, my eyes that never will light up again. ~Li Yi-hang*

*cited: The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jade Flute, by Various
image and poetry submitted in response to Paula’s (Lost in Translation) Words of Wisdom challenge.
a child’s smile…silent
resounding within the heart,
memories…blossom

by firelight
listening to the silence
of things we can’t see ~Larry Gross*

*cited: Jackie Hardy, Haiku Poetry Ancient & Modern
the dandelions too
have shaved heads…
festival day ~Issa*

*cited: http://www.haikuguy.com
my hut
the butterfly’s sleeping place
tonight ~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)
Sunlight, shadows, and Spring Creek’s current reflected on the wall of an underpass. I hope you enjoy.




lens-artists photo challenge: buildings and other structures
green moss–
all the way to my lap
spring’s rainbow ~Issa*

*www.haikuguy.com noted. A love note to Planet Earth. Spring’s dazzling colors touch and include Issa. He gazes and realizes: I am (we are) part of this glory!
the lantern blown out–
the sound of the wind
through the leaves ~Shiki*

*cited: Jackie Hardy, Haiku Poetry Ancients & Modern. Tuttle Publishing, 2022
even in the spring mists
the sounds of water
trailing through the rocks ~ Sokan*

*Hardy, Jackie. Haiku Poetry Ancient & Modern. Tuttle Publishing 2002
Across concealed blue skies,
drifting signs.
Imaginary birds and dragons –
aimless shifting stories.
Gathering and dispersing
water droplets and star dust.
In flight,
clouds empty of clouds



trails of clouds
layered memories
a time forever gone
stands between us
dewdrops of autumn



reeds–
a flitting firefly
catches his breath ~Issa (haikuguy.com)

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