dVerse Poetics: This one is for you.

I am allowed 15 minutes a day on the puter….bah!!! so I have bribed the 16 year old boy, Xien, boy across the street to type for me. And I am keeping this short.  I love my birthstone – topaz – deep and golden and rare.  When he read Lillian’s prompt, I knew I had to respond.  I will sneak back later to read some.  15 minutes allows a haiku.  You all take care!  BTW, I am a triple Scorpio for those of you who follow astrology.  http://dversepoets.com/2017/09/26/this-ones-for-you/

golden leaves – clear blue skies
rare amber and common blue –
perfect autumn day

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

The Season of Fireflies is Past

This is for Poetry Pantry at Poets United. Since my mother died in June, I have gone back to writing more. I restricted my posts this past year.  And now here I am trying to get back in the swing of things.  Poets United:  http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2017/08/poetry-pantry-365.html  I will also be posting this for Real Toads Tuesday Platform http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-tuesday-platform_8.html and for dVerse Open Link Night this following Thursday.

The Season of Fireflies is Past
the shade from trees is getting longer –
the days are getting shorter –
nights are getting cooler.
The season of fireflies is past.
early summer dusk
black trees against gray skies –
it is so silent.
the sound of a train whistle
several miles away carries
faintly over the tops of trees –
it moves like a slow river and pools
in the black grass of my back yard.
I’ve seen one firefly so far.
It winked at eye level
and a few minutes later it winked higher up
and still a few minutes later it winked
up in the top of the old oak.
the train whistle awakens the insects –
The cicadas and crickets –
it awakens the tree frogs who begin their
treble belching – and the old bullfrog
in my dying garden sings
basso profundo – the cicadas
ratchet it up a little bit louder.
I can feel it in my soul and in my bones –
Summer is taking her shower and soon will
be in her jammies and sleeping.
autumn will awaken and begin his
royal progress throughout the land
trailing clear blue skies, deer, and golden leaves
in his wake.
The season of fireflies is past.

Real Toads: Flash 55

Today at Real Toads we have a prompt from Flash 55 Plus to write a poem in 55 words – our choice of subject or, the Optional Plus prompt using the artwork of Erte for inspiration.  Follow this link to learn more of this prolific Art Deco Artist:  https://www.wikiart.org/en/erte   this link to read poem submitted by the poets of Real Toads:  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/flash-55-plus.html

 

Autumn Song

“Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.” Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five

I went to sleep in summer
and awakened in autumn.
at night the cicadas clickclackthrum
rising and falling.
it is still hot, lord knows
but this morning was cool –
the day smells of dried grasses
and early fallen leaves clustered around
the bottom of the oak tree.
Autumn is beginning to stir –
to awaken.

 

 

Gold Day

A haibun for Real Toads – http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/ Karin Gustafson is prompting us tonight at Real Toads with A glance at narrative. So, here’s your task for the prompt.  Simply think of some story in writing your poem–it could be the story of a moment or of a lifetime–and it need not be fully detailed.  The poem may offer a bird’s eye view of the story or the small close-up of a magnifying glass, maybe just a sidelong glimpse.  (It does not have to be a story of human beings; it could be the story of a rock or a raindrop.)

金曜日 Gold Day
The afternoon he left was a golden roux of fading autumn sunlight, spicy oak leaves – bright yellow, still holding on to the tree, not yet ready to fall, and bitter salt tears – like the oak leaves – refusing to fall, refusing to join the earlier faded maple leaves on the lawn. Under the trees, quiet and still, I allow the knowledge of his leaving to permeate my being. I am still breathing. My heart is still beating. The sky is still ethereal blue with purest white autumn clouds wafting their way to the end of the horizon. Starlings lift from the telephone wires to follow the clouds. I realize, I will continue on my way – leaves will change color and fall, snow will cover the sepia winter landscape, cherry blossoms will bud, bloom, and fade, trees will leaf in explosions of green, leaves will change color and fall. Seasons and things will pass. Inside, my soul says “Oh!”  I sit as the gold day ends.

early leaf burning –
its incense drifts to heaven
autumn’s voice whispers

 

Notes: Japanese Days of the Week –  The first two days of the week are named after the sun and the moon. To understand the remaining five wemust look at the ancient Chinese theory of the ‘Five Elements’ 五行 (wǔ-xíng). The Five Elements started out as a primitive system for explaining the universe but gradually developed to become an all-embracing cosmological system. Each element was equated to (among others) a direction, a colour, a season, a time of day, a planet, and a musical note in the pentatonic scale.  Fire (火 huǒ) was equated to south, red, summer, midday, the planet Mars, and note 5 in numbered musical notation. Water (水 shuǐ) was equated to north, black, winter, midnight, the planet Mercury, and note 6 in numbered musical notation. Wood (木 mù) was equated to east, green, spring, dawn, the planet Jupiter, and note 3 in numbered musical notation.  Gold or Metal (金 jīn) was equated to west, white, autumn, dusk, the planet Venus, and note 2 in numbered musical notation. Earth (土 tǔ), was equated to the centre, yellow, 18 days at the end of each season, the planet Saturn, and note 1 in numbered musical notation.

dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link #185

Grace is hosting our Open Link Night, #185!!!!   Here is my submission for that.  Enjoy.  and please visit us at dVerse Poets Pub to read and/or submit your own poem.  https://dversepoets.com/2016/12/01/openlinknight-185/

between the cold of
late autumn and the warmth of
early winter = leaves
cling to the branches – a crow
caws and no bird answers

Open Link Night #180

Today Bjorn is hosting at the Pub.  It is OLN which means Open Link Night in which we can post one poem of our choosing on any subject, in any form.  Come join us!  https://dversepoets.wordpress.com/2016/09/22/open-link-


The Calendar is slow

“Autumn knocks softly…” Toni Spencer

Today the calendar says it is the first day of autumn.
The weather is screaming late summer.
All the leaves are still green,
the sky is still the clear blue of summer,
the nights are still warm and moist
and filled with the sounds of insects.

I long for cooler weather,
for the Arabian tapestry of colored leaves
and the rich tangy snap of apples
in my mouth –
The smell of fallen leaves and rain
and the profligate gold of small wild sunflowers
blooming in ditches and fields –
a frosty morning
and deeper blue of autumn sky –
longer nights and shorter days.

The Hunters Moon is a round silver dollar
In the sky.
The Milky Way spirals around it –
Silver pennies – change for the moon’s pocket.

I long for autumn.
Oh! How I long for autumn.

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