Imprisoned Free Verse

Today (Thursday) Bjorn is hosting the dVerse Meeting the Bar with a secret guest. He wants us to use free writing to create free verse. The theme is looking back through our past decade and pick any theme we have used. The directions are:
1) select a few keywords (2) set timer for 9 minutes and write whatever come to mind (3) use this to create our own free verse. Bjorn included a picture of his draft which reminded him of being in university and studying physics. This was a hard exercise for me as I never write anything down. I get an idea and then form the poem/haiku/tanka in my head. Having to write down first really tied me up! Come visit at dVerse to see the other poems linked to this prompt. I have a feeling there are going to be some really interesting poems/drafts linked. My draft is at the end of the poem. One look and you will see why I rarely write anything down!  Also linking this to Poets United, Poetry Pantry  http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2015/12/poetry-pantry-283.html

moritsuke Public Domain photo

moritsuke Public Domain photo

Imprisoned Free Verse
my “free verse” is often a contradiction in terms
as my verse is never free – in the sense of
free association – poems are always formed
in my mind first –
words are precisely arranged
to entice the brain and
capture the heart.
like moritsuke –
the Japanese art of food arranging.
every item is placed to best advantage
to show and balance color, form –
like a painting or flowers.
on the paper, the soul of my poem,
the heart of my poem
becomes a captive held prisoner
squiggled words in a prison of paper and ink
with a guard named Frustration.
The smell of the first snow or the drift
of a red maple leaf to the ground
can only be written in the mind and felt
by the heart. Ink and paper
are for grocery lists or
a scribbled recipe for a friend.
In my mind, poems about the first snow
or love or stars or trees
are a a sheathed sword.
When brought out into the light
they shine with a life of their own.
And sometimes, they stay in my mind
until my heart can bear to let them go.

copyright kanzensakura poem draft

copyright kanzensakura
poem draft

Pewter Landscape – tanka

summer photograph –
pewter moonlight monochrome
ghostly landscape sleeps,
the full moon is the watch dog
guarding the shadows of night.

Orange Cat, Blue Birds – not a tanka

Orange cat, blue birds –
A drama of colors and
Fur and feathers,
Plays out daily. Sam Cat longs
To escape and wreak havoc.
Captured behind glass,
The Cat is a comedic
Display for the birds.
They tweet, hop about and tease.
How irksome! His whiskers twitch.

Sepia Sunday – Two haiku

I.
winter day: silent
birds pecking seeds beneath bare
forsythia bush.

II.
Oddly warm winter
day. sepia drizzle tints
silent yard and sky.

The Walk lV – The Heron

Gray rainy day,
Steady drops changed his Umbrella into a drum.
Rain, plops of drops
Around them.  No conversation
But man and woman agreed – the hill.
They both walked to the
Cherry trees at the top of
the hill, rain spattered pond below.

The grey heron stood
In the pond blithely ignoring
The falling rain.
Knowing him well, the woman
Balanced herself down the slope
To stand on the rock
That reached out
Into the small pond. The heron
Stood still, waiting for
The bread she held in
Her hand.  They’ve done this before.
Bread dropped and floated on
The water bobbing
Before he quickly scooped it up
With his long bill.

The man at the top of
The hill laughed in delight but
Halted at her upright
Hand.  “He doesn’t know
You.  Stay there. “   She climbed back up
The slope to stand and
Watch the heron as
He finished his treat.
Envious geese muttered
And flapped their wings.

The man is quiet
and waits for the heron to
Fly away.  The cherry trees drip
And the rain softly
Falls around them.
“No wonder this seems like home
To me.”  He whispered.
“I could be happy
In such a small grove of trees
With a pond nearby.
There was a place like this,
Near our home.”
He held out his hand,
solemnly watching the rain
create a tiny pond in the palm of his hand.
“寒雨 Kanu.” He whispered. (cold winter rain)

She smiled at him.
He walked her back to
Her office, holding the
Umbrella carefully over her.
“I want to come here again”
He whispered.
“Then we shall.”
She bowed deeply to him.
“おかえり Okaeri” (welcome home)
He bowed in return.
“ただいま Tadaima.” (I’m home).

Haikai Challenge #17: Hawk

cold misty dawn – hawk
flies silently overhead
black against grey sky

 

For Frank Tassone’s Saturday Haikai Challenge #17 using the kigo, hawk.  #Haikai Challenge #17 (1/20/18): hawk #haiku #senryu #tanka #haibun #renga #haiga

 

You may be right, I may be crazy…..

I’ve done it…..I now have a totally separate blog for my poems.  I like choices.  If you don’t like my meanderings and musings and recipes, but you do like my poetry, then Aki no Koe is an alternative.

Aki no Koe:  voice of autumn.  I was born in November and am a true Scorpio.  Uh oh.  Danger! Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!

Aki no Koe is the voice of autumn, poetry for the seasons. Because I write a great deal of haiku, not 17 syllable poems but, haiku – I use many of the Japanese words for the season, events in the season, plants, people, food, weather specific to a season.  Kigo is seasonal word and is used in all haiku.  I’m not getting any more technical than that.

I don’t want to sound like a pretentious and learned’ ass because I now have a pooooooo-eh-tree blog.  I just want to separate it out for, like I said, those of you who don’t want or like the other stuff.

Those of you who like Kanzen Sakura, all I can say is:  Thank you.  This blog is my first blog and is dear to me as are all of you.  If you want to check out Aki no Koe, it is:  soundsofautumn.wordpress.com    And probably, as usual, the link won’t work.  Links seem to hate me on WP.

Again, thank you all so very much.  You, each one of you, make my day, every day.

Grins and God bless you all.

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