Not Closed

For De’s Quadrille Prompt over at dVerse Poets Pub and for Positive Prompted Poetry.  The word for today is “closed”.

 

Not Closed
“The first blooms of spring always make my heart sing.” — S. Brown

small business and restaurants
are closed – as is schools
government offices.
I walk around the neighborhood
and smile.
Not closed is the blue sky over head
and the dogwood trees,
the birds singing,
small yellow butterflies
hovering over dandelions.
lilacs bloom –
Spring is open!

The Daffodils on the Edge of the Woods

For Posery at dVerse and Earthweal: Finding Hope

Haibun: The Daffodils on the Edge of the Woods
“She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbor: “Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

We bought our house and moved in in October. We planted daffodils all around the house. In the spring they burst into bloom and trumpeted spring. I noticed across the road, a bunch of wild daffodils, growing on their own. They splayed their greenness, displayed their golden heads among the dead leaves and bare trees. They became my favorite clump of daffodils and I looked forward to them every year. This year, they are growing, blooming. I saw them as I drove past on the narrow road by our house. I stopped and admired them. I began to cry to as I looked at them – the clump of a half-dozen blooms. I looked up at the spring blue sky with mackerel clouds. As much as I missed Brad, there was hope there. The sky would be blue, the daffodils would bloom, the birds would sing in the trees. There are moments caught between heart-beats, between tears and smiles. I wiped my eyes and bent down and kissed the blooms. Hope, I whispered. Hope.
trumpets of gold
proclaim spring –
proclaim life

Blue Skies

Laura’s prompt at dVerse Poets Pub is “Less is more”. With that in mind, I have written an American Sentence.  So less is truly more.

Blue Skies
I never get tired of the blue sky.” – Vincent van Gogh

A cloudless blue sky gives hope even to the birds that fly through the storms.

copyright Toni Spencer

dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille – Hope

De is our pubtender today at dVerse. She is giving us the word “hope” to use in our quadrilles. What is a quadrille? It is a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title. A prompted word is to be used in the poem. Any derivative of the word hope is accepted. I have included one of my favorite songs from the now defunct program, Enterprise: Strenght of the Heart. I hope you all will listen.  This song has gotten me through some hard times.  I hope it will bring hope to your heart.  It keeps me from negativity!

Hope
As long as there are stars in the night sky
As long as trees endure,
As long as children sing and play,
As long as people share goodness with each other,
As long as we have love in our hearts
I will have hope.

dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link Night

It is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub. You can submit any one poem of your choice on subject and form. Come join us!

I hope
night falls gently in mid-May –
the sun fades but it is still bright
yet muted. birds sing their night songs
and the cardinal on the wire
serenades his territory –
Thweeeeee purty purty purty!
honeysuckle drifts on the gentle breeze.
the world is preparing for sleep.
I hope it is a restful night for all
I hope it is a night with sweet dreams
and full stomachs and hearts full of love.
but I hope. I hope.

dVerse Poets Pub: OLN #189

Today, I am linking up for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub. http://dversepoets.com/2017/02/09/openlinknight-189/ Come join us for some fine poetry writin’…

Laphroaig Night
It is February 8th.
February. 8th.
It is 75 degrees farenheit.
The last time the temperature was this high was 1925.
I’m standing on my back porch
Breathing in the night,
Sipping a good single malt
and listening to the peepers singing
down by the creek.
They are crawling tgrough the wet leaves
And doing their mating thang.
The high pitched bells of their tiny throats
each proclaiming:
In the midst of death we are in life.
In spite of myself I smile.
Politics, religion, wars, arguments,
Fights, battles, hunger, grief, sickness, anger –
All are silenced by their voices.
I finish my scotch.
I smile.
In the midst of death we are in life.

dVerse Poets Pub: I Still Believe

Today at dVerse, we are on day #5 of our fifth anniversary celebration. Gayle is our host and has interviewed Anthony Desmond, a former member of dVerse. He is an amazing poet who always inspires. Come and visit us.  Part Five; Revisiting Anthony Desmond

I Still Believe
“For people like us
In places like this
We need all the hope
That we can get” Tim Cappelo from Lost Boys

And after all these years, here I am.
Up in the cradling branch of this ancient oak
in the woods adjacent to my home.
I’ve been a tree climber since I was six.
Being in trees centers me.
As I draw the bow across my beat up violin,
I am taken back to way back when.
And all the years in between –
all the pain, the laughter, the friends,
my family, wars, deaths, massacres, injustices,
courtesies, kindnesses…
I realize that I still believe.
I need the hope of belief rather
than the sword slash of bitterness,
prejudice, all the political bull shit that never stops.
I look across at the endless ocean of green
in front of me. I realize
as I draw the bow across the strings
for “La Musica Notturna delle Strade di Madrid.
No. 6, Op. 30” by Boccherini
that I still believe.
The song begins its lilt as I form the chords.
I am at peace.
Birds begin to sing.

 

Vive la France!!!!

Darkness becomes light.  Fear becomes bravery.  God Bless the people of Paris.  Thus, to tyrants.

Abrha’s Birthday – What is our gift to the world?

At d’Verse Poetics, today is not only Poetics day, it is Abhra’s birthday! Happy Birthday!!!! He has gifted us with an incredible poem by Tagore and as the Poetics Prompt, asks us to write about, what we would give to the world as our gift. Come visit to read Abhra’s post and to read the poems linked. What would your gift to the world be?
http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/06/poetics-what-is-your-gift/

The Last Thing Left Behind
World looked at the battered box with a carefully blank expression. “Very nice? Thank you, I think?” And indeed, I regifted World a previously given gift. The box was full of nicks, stained by tears and blood, rusted hinges, covered with dust and grime. I said to World, “this was given to you long ago but I think you have forgotten it. All the other items in the box are gone, only one item was left behind. Open the box World, open and remember.”

World shook the box. Something inside rattled from side to side. Content that it would not explode, World opened the box. At the bottom was a stone. As World brought the stone out of the box, it began to glow and pulsate. A fragrance like the breath of the sea, the incense of pines, the prayerful aroma of all the flowers in the world, the sweet sniff of the smell of a newborn baby’s soft little neck. World breathed it in and began to smile. Shoulders bent with care, bruises from wars, tears from sorrow – they all began to disappear, to heal. “What is this gift? Tell me, what is this gift that has the colors of sunrise and rainbows, the light of ten thousand stars in the darkness of night? Please, tell me.”

“Hope. Simply, Hope. Years ago when the box was opened, horrible things entered the world. But as all the evil left the box and entered the world, this one thing remained and will never leave – Hope. Never forget. Open this box often and enjoy this gift. Open the box everyday. Share the gift. It grows greater the more you share it.” World smiled and cradled the beautiful stone in her hands. She took the stone and placed it in my hand. “The sharing begins.”

cold night of winter-
stars break the darkness into
bits of light so all can share.

Pandora – detail from Greek urn – public domain

Friday Video – World Order – Informal Empire

You all have watched more times than you wish, probably, my posting of World Order videos.  This is one of the newest and to date, is one of the more serious ones.  Filmed on location in London, the guys do have wonderful moments of fun:  eating fish and chips, riding in the top of a double decker bus, a tribute to the Beatles and of course, reactions from the people around them.  In their personal notes they do say “…on location in this great country…”  There are scenes from vintage WWII film coverage of battle.  No, they are not commenting on the wrongness of the war. Look up the definition of “informal empire” for yourself.  I could go on and on about the symbolisms in their choreography for all of their songs, but I will not bore you with that.  Suffice it to say, the world has moved a long way so that a Japanese music group can film on location and in some tricky places.  Sudo dings his own country/perceptions in several of his videos.  In the channel lineup at the end of the video, click on my all time favorite, Last Dance.  I think this is the most beautiful of words and choreography and an excellent companion to this video.

Genki Sudo, former MMA World Champion, underwent a vast change a decade ago and now signs his name as Peace Walker with a vision of unity, We All Are One.  This shows up many times in a fun way – the people and children who imitate the boys as they dance in their public venue.

So here is the takeaway:  The words to this song.  Sudo has written a song with more English than any of his others making the meaning more accessible to more people:

“Your life is in motion
So don’t turn back
Believe in yourself…”

Let me see a raise of hands:  how many of you have ever received messages that maybe, you aren’t quite good enough?  Well, look at these words and listen – Believe in yourself.  The video is both a  message and a warning to us and it is also a hope for us…The words are as intricate and arresting as the choreography. …”Find hope…” …”Dream of freedom…”

Now sit back and enjoy the video.  The English lyrics became a major ear worm to me this week.  The choreography is more contained in this song – closer in with more clockwork precision. I confess to seriously working on some of the choreography in the privacy of my back yard.

The final dance sequence is staged in front of Lord Jacob Rothschild’s Mansion, Waddesdon.  This was built for his ancestor, Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild.  The Blue Flag with five arrows that flashes near the end is the flag of the Rothschild Banking Family.

But….Your life is in motion
So don’t turn back
Believe in yourself

 

The Walk – Part X – Promises Kept

Several years ago, I had the privilege of reviewing the application for licensure in my state, a Japanese engineer from Fukushima, transferred to a branch of his company here in the States. After a rocky and difficult beginning, he finally realized and accepted what must be done to complete the process. After a time, he asked me to lunch because of the gratitude he had for the help I had given him. I told him I could not do that. he then asked, Would you go for a walk around the office park then, on your lunch break? I happily said yes because I had learned much about him and wanted to know more. He reminded me a great deal also, of a love that had come to an end when my Samurai returned to Japan. This began many walks and conversations on Friday of the weeks he was in town. I told him there were sixty-five cherry trees within the park and we visited them all. Our favorite place to walk and often sit and talk was under a few trees atop a small hill overlooking a pond. The series of poems about our friendship all begin with “The Walk” and the number in the series.

Spring day – cold, foggy, and grey
But clearing skies begin
Clouds running away
Yielding space to blue sky and sun.

Cool wind, the man and woman
Tug their jackets closely and
Walk to their place on the hill.
The small pond below is
Rippling in the wind.
The cherry trees are
Slowly opening their buds,
Unsure of spring.
They bloom here and there
In small clusters, still
Fearful of winter.

Pointing upward she said
“I told you they would
Bloom again.” He smiled.
“Do you always keep
Your promises?”
She smiled. “Yes. Especially
Promises about sakura and friendship.”
He glanced at
The branches of the
Cherry tree above. He reached
Up and pulled down a
Branch for her to better see.
The branch was full of blooms –
Pink and perfect.
They stood and gazed, rapt
At the beauty of it.
He looked down at her and sighed
And let the branch go.
“The blossoms are perfect.
All of them.”
He bowed to the tree.
He bowed to her,
Deeply with respect.
He touched her cheek.
He looked again at the branches
Above him with the blooms
She promised would come again.
He looked  into her eyes
And again, sighed.

copyright kanzensakura

The Walk: Part Vl – Tsunami: One year Anniversary, 2012.

In 2011, I became friends with a Japanese engineer who was transferred by his company in Fukushima to one of their branches in the USA. I was in charge of reviewing and approving applications for licensure made by foreign engineers, specifically Japan and Canada. There were items needed to complete his application and he had been notified of the deficiencies. A back and forth of emails and phone calls ensued. One day, he just showed up at the office and was sent to me. A handsome and proud man, he asked me to see the man in charge. I told him I was the “man” in charge of his application and licensure. I removed us to a private conferring room and went over his files with him. He said he could never get the information needed. “Don’t you understand? Do you have any idea what a tsunami is and how this was total devastation?” I was dealing with frustration and deep grief. Eventually, we found a way for him to obtain the required information.

The day after I called him to let him know that finally, the process was complete and he had been approved for licensure. On Friday, he came to the office again requesting to see me. Because I had worked so hard and helped him so much (at one point serving him green tea and homemade udon during a long session. I had brought my lunch from home that day and shared it with him) he wanted to take me to lunch. When I told him that was not allowed, he asked if I would take a walk instead. It was peak cherry blossom season and in the office park were over 65 cherry trees. I knew exactly where I would take him. This began a long and deep friendship. Every Friday, if he was in town and I was in my office, we would walk and talk. We learned much about each other.

I wrote a series of poems about this friendship – The Walk – and there are various parts to it. This is one of those parts, posted in memory of those who lost their lives during the tsunami of 2011 and in honor of those who survived and rebuilt.

free public domain photo

She looked at the calendar and sighed.
It was not Friday, the usual day of their walks.
It was the one year anniversary of the tsunami.
She knew he would be there
In their place under the cherry trees.

The cherry buds were barely beginning to show color.
A bit of pink, bit of white, bit of red.
Holding themselves tight
On this day.
No blooms today.

She walked to their place.
He was standing
Huddled in his coat
Looking diminished by his grief.

Tears coursed down his cheeks –
Rain running down a smooth brown rock,
A statue, the bark of a tree.

Softly she walked until she came beside him
And gently touched the sleeve of his coat.
She looked into eyes that had witnessed hell
And still was looking through that broken window.

“That day, the sea ate up our town.
I lost friends at the nuclear facility.
We tried, we tried but we were helpless.
The sea washed away my home,
The graves of my wife and son,
Friends, people I knew in the neighborhood.
Pets, belongings, altars…
All eaten by the wild animal sea.”

“And now I am here.
Alone. I eat alone, I sleep alone,
I drive alone.
I try to fix a meal to remind me of home
But it doesn’t smell the same
Or taste the same.
Gone…gone…so many just gone,
Swept away like garbage.”

She listened.
She took his hands in hers.
“I promise you –
Japan will rebuild.
The cherry blossoms will bloom.
Children will be born.
I am your friend.
You will make more friends.
Let us light candles for the souls of the lost.
Let us light incense and send our prayers
Out for those who live and who rebuild.
I promise you, on my honor.”

Fitful flakes of snow
caught in his hair
as he lit a candle and set it
at the base of the cherry tree.
He bent down
And she held him close as he wept.
She could only be his friend.

copyright kanzensakura

free public domain image