d’Verse Poetics – 4th Year Celebration – Icebreaker

This is the FOURTH ANNIVERSARY of d’Verse Poetics community – woohoo!!!! We are celebrating poetry, each other, contributors and commenters. Yesterday Grace, in Pubtalk, gave us the theme of gratitude and it is part of the prompts for this whole week. Today Marina Sofia is providing an icebreaker for us to get to know one another better.

We choose three words that mean a lot to us or describe us and three words that state what we are grateful for and then writing a poem with those words in 12 or less lines. Come join us for the celebration, the amazing poets, join in the conversation and contribute poems of your own.

My words:  Japan, the South, Phoenix, family, husband, love

southern woman – a family heritage
of hard work, courtesy and respect to all,
unconditional love of family -for them, by them.
knocked down by cancer but a survivor –
lessons of hard gained, deep romantic yet hard lost love.
locked away in loss and pain but reawakened to life and the joy of words
Phoenix poet rising from the ashes.
discovering along the way and living by,  equally –
Bushido and the Ten Commandments – The South meets Japan.
rising from the pain of lost love to new love –  a husband, friend, lover –
travelling the world, diving into different cultures –
The Phoenix southern woman poet finding her way home.

 

Bushido - public domain image

Bushido – public domain image

 

The Last Cherry Blossom

This week in dVerse Poetics Pub, the whole theme and prompt is about chivalry, knights, ladies, armor, jousts, courtly love, etc. going back in time. I have gone back in time to a different type of knight – the Samurai. There was also a joust where we chose a line from Brian or Claudia’s poem.  I have carried out this prompt for this poem, along with the medieval theme. The lines from their poems are in italics. This is for Open Link Night. dVerse Poetics link is: http://dversepoets.com On my About Page, I have noted I am guided equally by the Ten Commandments and Bushido – a later term for the code of the warrior. It was traditional for the Samurai, before committing seppuku or going into battle, to write a death poem. One of the greatest writers of haiku, Basho, was Samurai.

red armor

It was an omen –
He knew it.
Last year the cherry blossoms
were in full bloom.
During the night
a cold wind blew
and in the morning snow was on the ground.
Pink petals fell too early
and gleamed like blood
on the snow.
He knew – it would be the
last time he saw the cherry trees bloom.

In the summer, he had
acted as second for his brother,
dying of a wasting disease.
A brave warrior,
he wanted to die with honor.
And so, he had committed
the ritual seppuku,
freeing his soul.

The night before leaving for battle,
At evening meal he looked
at his wife and children.
The two eldest sons would join him
in battle.
The two youngest and his daughter
would stay behind.
Inside he mourned
for his two sons who
would never wear the red armor
passed to him from his father
and his grandfather.
He knew they would die
in the plain armor
of first battle –
Well made of leather
and iron scales and
lacquered black.
He would die in the red armor
and unless their enemies
had honor, the armor
would never be returned to his wife.
In the matters of life and death,
of battles and births, he said
within himself,
we’ve lost our capacity
to count

He looked at his wife,
the oldest and plainest of her sisters.
But she was graceful and had added
much to his life – intelligent,
she educated his children well
just as he taught them
the code of the warrior.
He looked at his daughter
and she smiled.
She was his sunlight
and one of her dimples
could not be bought for all
the gold in the kingdom.
Intelligent like her mother
but with the winsome beauty
of his mother.
She was brave and fierce
when she fought.
When paired with Maggi’s
son, he bested her
but she broke his nose
of which he was too proud.

His wife went into their store
room and brought forth a roll of
silk, the clear blue of an autumn sky
as a gift for her.
Her brothers clapped her on
her shoulder as if she was one
of them and praised her swordsmanship.
His heart burst with pride
at his daughter warrior.

He would be leaving his home
in the capable hands of his wife
to be maintained and defended.
The small chest in the store room
was full of coins and
there was cloth and silk
and food for them and their
servants and animals.
Should another man take her to wife,
if he were wise, he would find his
life greatly enriched and enlarged
by her wisdom and bravery.

That night, they made love
with the fire and speed
of youth.
As she slept, he touched
her cheeks to find them
wet with tears.
He realized the tears were his own.

He walked that night
in his garden.
Time stands still…
Tomorrow, he and his sons
would ride to battle.
A cold wind blew off the mountain –
he reached up to touch the
cherry buds, tightly curled.
He would never see them bloom.
He then wrote his death poem
to leave for his wife.

Death Poem of Masashi Kenata – 1538 – 1580
bitter winter winds –
in the garden the sleeping
cherry blossoms wait
for spring sun to awaken –
I can only dream.

copyright kanzensakura

copyright kanzensakura

Twofer Thursday – Kick it….

This post is especially for my friend Huntie over at Chasing Rabbitholes and for the other Bitten Babes – and you know who you are as well.

We’ve had hard times, sad times, bad times. Let’s put a smile back in style…

For just a few minutes, step back, breathe, relax and shake that booty. Go on girls…rock it. Hugs and love to the other onnabugeisha in the Bitten crew.

%d bloggers like this: