Haibun Monday – Free For All

Today I have the prompt at dVerse Poets Pub. Come join us!  http://dversepoets.com/2017/07/24/haibun-monday-free-for-all-2/

Beautiful Spring
The spring this year was beautiful. A mild winter and lots of rain and snow had thoroughly watered the earth and flowers and trees were bursting forth. The last few months of my mother’s life, I spent with her daily. It was hard watching her slowly die, to pray for God to take her and end her suffering. One morning, they called me early from the skilled nursing facility she was in. During the night, my mother had died. I hung up the phone feeling empty, tired and sad. I stood at our living room window and looked out at the early summer green.

summer green and sun –
hummingbirds sip from the feeder –
it is cold inside

dVerse: The View From Our Windows

At dVerse today, Lillian is the pubtender extraordinaire. She challenges us to write a poem about a view outside our window or from the outside looking in. We must also include a picture of the view. We are still celebrating our 6th Anniversary this. Come join us for special fun, special prompts, special times: http://dversepoets.com/2017/07/18/looking-out-looking-in/

copyright kanzensakura

Beneath the Crape Myrtle
bright pink blooms against
summer sky – cat naps beneath –
restful in the shade –
SamCat the Ripper loved hanging out
beneath this crape myrtle tree –
he’d roll in the grass
and twist his body around –
his paws reaching for the sky.
pink blooms fade and fall –
cool wind scatters the petals –
the place is silent now

copyright kanzensakura

A Tale of Heat and Cold: Summer’s Coming

This is for the Weekend prompt at Real Toads – global warming – Imagining a Changing Earth. Brendan’s Scriptorium asks us to write a poem of any length or style to describe a grieving heart, our place in the changing world, etc. You can find the prompt at: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/07/weekend-challenge-imagining-changing.html I chose the form of haibun for this which is an ancient Japanese poetic style using prose (bun) and haiku (hai). One to three tight paragraphs with a classic haiku at the end to bring attention to the prose is the standard format. Being a bit of a pragmatist, I look at things with a sometimes Japanese outlook and sometimes, a skewed outlook. I don’t see the world changing as we know it as necessarily a bad thing just as change.  Mujo is  part of the Japanese mentality – change.

A Tale of Heat and Cold: Summer’s Coming
Heat, cold, fire, ice, cooling, melting…We are going through a natural cycle. People talk of a Sixth Extinction and quiver in fear or righteous indignation. Species will die out. Well, species have died out before this. We ponder over old bones and fossils. We put oil in our cars and diamonds on our fingers or in our ears – all of these the remains of species who lived zillions of years ago and died out with whatever climate change was going on at the time. Siberian Elk, Smilodon, Wooly Mammoth – 10,000 BCE, 5,200 BCE, 5,000 BCE died and became extinct and rotted. The earth heated up or cooled down. The Thunder Lizards are a few bones displayed in museums and the Neanderthal is part of a diorama.

Perhaps we will end up devolving. Perhaps a Smildon or Triceratops will again be grazing on tree sized weeds. Perhaps a Wooly Mammoth will again be slogging through the 1,000 year winter. This ending is our fault though. No volcanos erupted, nothing happened to tilt the Earth a degree – we did this ourselves. This may be an unnatural cycle in which we die along with other species and flora. Perhaps we will become the stuff of study by a new race or a bright stone in someone’s ear. Hopefully, they will learn from our mistakes.

summer’s coming – heat
destroys life as we know it –
brave new world ahead

 

free public domain image

dVerse Poets Pub – OLN

Welcome to dVerse’s Open Link Night where there are no prompts – you can post one poem of your choice. Come over to the pub and enjoy cool quaffs of good poetry. http://dversepoets.com/2017/06/29/open-link-199-and-summer-break/

cool dry day – blue skies
drift overhead – hawks gliding
hunting – sparrows hide

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday #40

I was not going to write to this prompt as I am taking a leave away from dVerse temporarily.  This is a lovely prompt – summer.

Gardenia Memories

Summer. Not my favorite season but still, I eagerly await its arrival and give a huge hurrah when it has changed into autumn. But still…I enjoy sitting on my back steps or porch at night. I love the summer nights, even when they are hotter than the inside of a cow. The rich aromas that perfume the night. Right now I am being inundated with magnolia, honeysuckle, and the honey sweet of the gardenia at the end of the house. The smell of gardenia on the night air always takes me back to my childhood and young womanhood. I was an iffy sleeper and still am. When I was a child, teen, and young woman, I would often sit at my bedroom window inhaling the smells and reading by starlight. We had gardenia bushes all around the house and one in particular was right below my bedroom window. We always had bowls of them around the house – fragile cream colored blooms floating in water.

Last night I was doing my usual step sitting when my husband came out to join me. He had my violin in his hands. “Here. You haven’t played in awhile.” “And looking after my mother, when have I had the time?” I told him testily. “Well, you have time now.” He set it down beside me and went back into the house. After a bit, I picked it up and began to play. I played a song for the stars, the gardenias, the bunnies grazing in the clover a few feet away from me, and I played for my mother. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt my chin getting slippery. I put the violin down and put my head on my knees, wrapping my arms around myself. My mother died a week ago; she died in her sleep. I wept until I could weep no more. I stood and inhaled one last deep breath of the gardenias and then went into the house.

gardenias perfume
the night air – faded blooms
fall to the ground

free public art

Haibun Monday #2 The Rest of the Story

I rarely post more than one poem.  But today calls for a rest of the story post!

The Rest of the Story
Years went past. Even though I survived, it seemed just when I was moving on, some slurpy teary love song would come on the radio and I would begin to cry. The biggest offender was Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg. I’d turn off the radio and then flip it back on and…cry. One day while at a Tai Kwan Do exhibition, I met this man: short, balding, beautiful blue eyes and a wicked one on the sparring floor. Somehow we began to talk and before I knew it, he had charmed me into going out for coffee with him. He was a true Southern boy – soft voice, those eyes, lovely mouth, and like a cat on stainless steel ball bearings on the sparring floor. I remember when he got his black belt. We had been dating awhile and truth be told, I was smitten. But I held back. One day in February – Valentine’s Day to be exact he asked me to come with him to his parents’ home to check on it as they were out of town for a couple of months. He sat me down in the family room and ran upstairs. When he returned, he told me he had something to say to me. I went cold inside. This was the breakup. He went over to the piano and began to chord and to sing. Heaven only knows how long it took him to learn to do this!
“We’re no strangers to love.
You know the rules and so do I…
(chord chord chord).

Heavens! It was Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up. I loved that song! And then he asked me to marry him. It was the first song we danced to at our wedding. I still love that song,  Seventeen years later and I still love him.

icy winds blow – sleet
falls – warmth of fireplace and love
inside the home.

dVerse Poetics: Wish you were here

Today De is hosting our prompt. We are to write “post card poetry” – think: micro poetry. to and from poetry, postcards from the (l)edge (thanks De!). Being the purist I am I decided to use some postcard sized index cards on to write my poetry to ensure it would actually fit on a postcard. Come by and visit! We wish you were with us! http://dversepoets.com/2017/04/18/tuesday-poetics-wish-you-were-here/ thank you De for this amazing prompt and exercise in brevity.

I.
the summer moon bursts
from behind the clouds – startled
an owl takes flight

II.
heavy blossoms pull down the branches
of trees by the river.
higher blossoms weep down their petals
upon the surface of the river
in which the submerged blossoms drown.
dead leaves cover the earth
beneath the trees.
Sharp winds blow
removing the corpses of winter.

III.
The heavens dazzle on
this warm spring night –
At the edge of the yard
an errant flicker of white on black.
A whisper of breeze touches my face.
Ghost of Nobody’s Cat
halts then moves on

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