Haibun Monday: Komorebi

I am doing the prompt for Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub. I have given the Japanese word komorebi to get people started. The word means light filtered through trees, specifically in spring or summer. I am asking them to write about the season-between-the-seasons, specifically summer into fall.  A classic haiku must end the classic haibun form. A classic haiku must have these elements: a season word,a cutting word, and 5-7-5 syllable form. I am not being particular about the number of syllables but I am being picky about the season word being part of the haiku. If there is no season word, you don’t have a haiku. You have a senryu or micropoem.

 

copyright kanzensakura

Komorebi
The cicadas are loud tonight. They clack and thrum, rattle and hum. The night is slightly cool and the dew smells of fallen leaves. Soon the cicadas will burrow down into the earth to sleep over fall and winter. An owl flies overhead, hunting for prey. I hear it in the woods accompanied by a squeal – some creature has become dinner. Small yellow sunflowers peek from the hedge and the butterfly bush has put out its last bloom. The blackberries have all been eaten by birds, squirrels and chipmunks and the bushes are bare except for leaves which are slowly fading to red – here, here, and here. Only the sunflowers have color in this deepened longer night. It is that strange season between seasons – not summer and not yet fall.  The days are getting shorter, the nights are getting longer.

I stood in my woods today. It is my church, my temple, my cathedral. The light filtering through the leaves give it a holy, hushed atmosphere. Komorebi – the Japanese word for light filtered through leaves 木漏れ. Between the world and the word are three small shapes, the signs for ”tree,” ”escape,” and ”sun.” A beautiful word. I look up and a few of the old oaks are beginning to turn their leaves from deep green to pale yellow. They are still holding tight, refusing to fall. The dead leaves underfoot are damp from the recent rain. They have a moist earthy smell rather than the dry spicy smell of autumn. I brush some of the leaves aside to uncover a large block of velvet green moss. Soon, the little flags they grow to reproduce will turn bright red. A small snake slithers under my boot. I watch it disappear into the safe place of ancient fallen trees. The cicadas are quiet today. But soon they will begin their clack and thrum, their rattle and hum. The moon is full this cool night surrounded by a halo of clouds. Autumn is taking the long road traveling to here.

voice of cicadas –
silent now in the stand of
pine trees on the hill

tani bucho 1817

Play It Again, Toads!

This is for the prompt over at Real Toads….Play It Again, Toads! in which several archived prompts are served up to choose from. Or you can choose the “Flash 55 Prompt which occurs the first weekend of every month…”  I chose the Flash 55 prompt.  Come stroll through the garden with the Toads at:  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/09/play-it-again-toads.html I am also posting this on Poets United, Poetry Pantry: http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2017/09/poetry-pantry-369.html

The Samurai and the Lady
He parted the silk,
traced her skin with clusters of
pink sakura. His lips
followed their trail. He
pulled flowers from the clusters,
scattering on her skin.
Teasingly he blew
them away. Here, now there, and
there. He smiled and
pulled her to him. Soft
as petals against him, he
touched her in wonder.

Hosukai wood block print

Real Toads – Monsters

Today at Real Toads Kerry (Shay is in space trip mode 🙂 ) prompts us to write about a monster or monsters, real or imagined. http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/a-skyflower-friday-monsters.html

The Monster in All of Us
Fear is an all-consuming monster.
It begins its gobbling in our brain
and moves to our heart making it beat
Fastsoveryfast
Fear is an all-consuming monster.
It kills us slowly –
It kills us quickly –
It kills us inevitably.
Fear is an all-consuming monster.
It jumps at us from shadows
It grabs us by the ankles from under our bed
It hides in the closet under the stairs
Fear is an all-consuming monster.
We are crippled by it
Stopped in our tracks
Our dreams turned into nightmares.
Fear is an all-consuming monster.
In the thunder it screams
In the rainy downpour it gibbers
In the darkness it hides
In our image in the mirror it lurks.
In the watching of a loved one dying
it twists itself around our soul and strangles us.
Fear is an all consuming monster.

public domain image

dVerse Poetics – Acrostic!

Today Frank is our Pubtender and has given us an interesting form to meet and greet – the Acrostic. I have always been intrigued with this form, reading the “mysterious” message at the side, envying those who do this form well. I fear I am not one of those but I tried! Come visit with us today at 3:00 pm EST. Pull up a chair at the Bar (after all, we are meeting it!), order something cold from the bar – we have everything from locally brewed beers to sake to lemonade – talk awhile with the denizens of this place, read some excellent poetry, and comment – PLEASE! Don’t just drop your poem and run. We are friendly folk here and all are welcome.

Beyond the Blue Horizon
Evening starts its fall with
Twilight – the sun begins its drop beyond the horizon
Ever spreading – the darkness and silence –
Release of light – release of joy, sorrow – all of it
Never saying goodbye just … until …
In an instant we all will be changed
Trusting that our passage over the skybound river
Yes, on into eternity, onward beyond the stars
will be filled with peace, joy, and reunion with those we love
cats, dogs, people…all of those we love beyond eternity.

copyright kanzensakura

 

 

dVerse Poetics – Shoes

This is written in response to Kim’s prompt for dVerse Poetics – shoes.

The things left behind
My mother’s shoes
parked under the bed where she left them
before she went into the skilled nursing facility.
I find it hard to put them away.

My father’s shoes
still new in a box but
35 years old. He never got to wear them.
I find it difficult to throw them away.

My baby shoes
bronzed, wrinkled, and tiny.
My parents loved me.
I dust them every day.

The things we leave behind
break our hearts when found.
Shoes – on the ocean floor
left behind by those who died
on the Titanic.
These things will lie entombed until the end of time.

public domain images

Quadrille Monday – Crepe Myrtle

Today Bjorn is hosting at the dVerse Pub and the word he has chosen for the quadrille prompt is “bliss” A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words not including the title. I have achieved my goad and written a haibun of 44 words!!! A haibun is an ancient Japanese poetic form that combines haiku (hai) and prose (bun). It must be factual and have actually happened to you and it must close with a haiku – another ancient Japanese poetic form consisting of 5-7-5 syllables and includes a kigo (season word as in autumn, not salt) and a kireji – a cutting word.  I am also linking this to Real Toads Tuesday Platform  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-tuesday-platform_29.html


Crepe Myrtle

The crepe myrtle this year was spectacular, full of blissful pink flower clusters. Now at the end of summer, there are only a few bits of bloom left.

crepe myrtle blooms fall
on the lawn like faded pink
snow – summer’s ending

copyright kanzensakura

 

Tsunami: One year anniversary March 11, 2012

This is greatly condensed down from a section of poetry based on the friendship of a Japanese engineer who was transferred by the company who owned the Fukushima power plant to a company in the US. I am posting this for Gillena’s prompt at: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/  “Hi toads, today i want you to stretch your imagination; ponder a natural disaster, past or recent, and tell me, what role you think, the gods might be playing, resulting in that particular natural disaster.” This is a small section of a poem I have been working on for several years – The Walk – parts I – VIII. He and I became friends while I was reviewing his application for licensure in the US as a professional engineer. He explained to me that much of the physical documentation was destroyed and people who acted as references and verifiers of his experience were dead.  He was in Tokyo at the time of the tsunami on business.  I am writing in haibun form.

free public domain photo – Japan Tsunami

Tsunami: One year later March 11, 2012. section of The Walk Part IV
Susanoo-no-Mikoto* was in a rage the day of the tsunami. He swept before him adults and children, pets, wild creatures, graves of the beloved dead, altars, homes – all washed away like so much trash into a gutter. My friend and I walked that anniversary to our place by the peaceful pond. I handed him a stick of incense. He lit the incense and wept beneath the cherry trees, far from home and dead family and friends.

the sea inhaled then
exhaled a giant wall of
water – spring was drowned

copyright kanzensakura

*Japanese god of the sea, storms, and snakes

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