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

dVerse Poetics: Oldies But Goodies

Before Lillian starts her cruise, she is again hosting Poetics over at dVerse. She is asking us to pick a song from the year we were born and to write about it. You’re going to have to look up the song to find out the year I was born! Pub opens Tuesday at 3:00 pm EST.  https://dversepoets.com/2017/04/11/oldies-but-goodies-no-matter-the-age/

How High the Moon
The young woman sat in the porch swing, pushing herself to and fro with her foot.  The full flower moon glinted off her wireframe glasses and in the darkness, her curly hair was coal black.  Inside the bedroom window facing onto the porch she had placed the radio so she could listen to music as she drifted in her thoughts.  The screen door opened and a young man came outside and joined her in the swing.  He looked at her with trouble in his eyes.  “What’s wrong?  You ate nothing at dinner and I cooked your favorites tonight”, he said softly.  The woman glanced at him, swallowed, then licked her lips.  Something was bothering her.  After a few minutes she whispered, “I’m pregnant”.  “What?,, what?”  She hung her head.  The young man gathered her into his arms.  “This is wonderful news, wonderful.  When?”  “November, mid or late.”  She snuggled in his arms and they began swinging again, gazing at the full moon.  On the radio began “How High the Moon” by Les Paul and Mary Ford.

full pink moon shines bright –
drifts of clouds across the moon –
kisses in the shadows

 

My sweet mama aged 16. copyright kanzensakura

 

dVerse Poetics: Anthropomorphism

Today Lillian is pubtender at dVerse and is prompting us to write anthropomorphic poetry such as…”Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such a sight and the dish ran away with the spoon.” In other words, giving human characteristics to non-human “things”. Come join us at: https://dversepoets.com/2017/04/04/anthropomorphize-me/ I have provided two haiku and one senryu for Lillian’s prompt.
I.
haru no kumo**
chase each other across spring
sky – children playing

II.
dragon dog castle
clouds bend themselves into shapes –
water forms miracles

III.
drifting along in
the sky – floating free – formed from
vapor – blue skies smile

 

**haru no kumo – spring clouds

copyright kanzensakura

Haibun Monday – Taking a Bath in the Forest – say what??

Today at 3:00 PM, EST, I am hosting the Haibun Monday prompt for dVerse Poets Pub.  Come join us at this virtual pub for good conversation and good poetry.  I am asking people to write (non-fiction) a one – three paragraph haibun ending it with a classic haiku (using kigo and kireji) and to write about the last time they were immersed in nature.  The subject that prompted this was shinrin-yoku – literally forest bathing.  It is a recognized health benefit in Japan and lately other places.  So please, come join us! I was going to write about getting my vegetable garden ready for planting but decided on true shinrin-yoku. I am an old tree climber from waaaay back.

Having a tree as a BFF is a good thing!
I leaned back into the arms of the old oak tree, it’s warm bark comforting and cradling. All around me in the stillness of the woods that surrounds my home, I could hear the sounds of birds – songs, calling territory, rustling in the branches, wings occasionally flapping as one landed or took off. Every once in awhile, the bark of a crow or several sharp caws would join in. Small creatures – squirrels, chipmunks, deer, bunnies, snakes, frogs – all would make sounds as they went about their daily business. Foraging for food, scurrying from hawks gliding overhead, tunneling, eating, croaking and meditating in the sun – all the woodland sounds.

I come to these woods about once a week to nourish myself. I stand at the edge and decide what path to take today. Often I take the path to this ancient oak, an old friend of mine. I climb the tree until I find the certain conjunction of branches that hide and hold me. Winter or summer, spring or fall; snow or rain, sunshine and cold or heat – I love all the turns of the seasons I can watch from this place in the tree. Last summer, I watched a nest of cardinals hatching over in the neighboring tree. I looked down as a buck and his harem processed majestically beneath me. I have seen much and felt much in this tree. This tree is like the welcoming arms of my husband or my mother or a friend.

It is time. I rustle around a few minutes and bring forth my violin. Today in midsummer, it is time for something light and playful. I place my bow to the strings and begin Boccherini’s La Musica Notturna Delle Strade No. 6. The woods and all its creatures listen for just a space and then, they begin again, going about their business.

summer sounds drift by –
lazy creek at bottom of
hill sings its own song

copyright kanzensakura

dVerse Poets Pub: Haibun Monday – The Best Things in Life are Free

Monday I am doing the prompt for Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub after a fairly long absence. While a bit stressful, it is still good to be back in the Pub writing prompts and reading and commenting on poems. My prompt for everyone is: the best things in life are free – as in without cost – not liberated from something – one of the other meanings of “free”…Come nd join us for the prompt on 02/20/2017.  Haibun Monday – The Best Things in Life are Free

Daffodils are Free!
Daffodils. I love them. I wait for them to come up every year in the very early spring. This year with the winter being so warm, you can spot clusters of green spears springing up from the dead winter grass or they are topped with the golden flowers. The smell of daffodils – I have yet to smell anything that smells like them. A heady mix of honey, jasmine, and butter – the perfume of them has not and probably never will be duplicated. Watching them blowing in the wind or dripping with rain or sticking out of snow, one can only sigh and know we are looking at one of our Creator’s most beautiful miracles. Ever since I was a child, I have loved them and I love them still at the grand old age of 65. They still make me smile, no matter how hard, sad, grey, or difficult the day has been.

Once when I was a child I pulled green blades of a daffodil still wet with rain. I wanted to see how  it tasted. I placed the green blade between my lips – slowly pulling using my tongue to feel the sharp edge and the soft green and the cold wetness of it. Years later after kendo, my lover and I stood in the rain and kissed. He had daffodil lips and I drank in their cool wetness and my tongue probed the sharp edges of his teeth and the slightly bitter taste of his lips.

in the spring rain
daffodils bloom with hope – true
love is in the air

public domain photo

public domain photo

 

Open Link Night

A haiku based on Lillian’s prompt of Tuesday to turn words into verbs.  Join us at Open Link Night (no prompt, submit one poem of your choice).  Neve (nay-vay) is a wonderful word.  It means a field of granular snow accumulated on high mountains. It is also known as old snow.   OpenLinkNight #188

Closeup of snowfield winter background

winter indigoes
night skies – sequined with stars the
skies become neve

 

 

 
 

 

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