Haiku for Today

Posted at Poetic Bloomings.where we are given titles of songs of the Beach Boys to pick one and use as inspiration. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2016/07/18/an-entertaining-summer-day-18-endless-summer/

red tomatoes bask
under the warmth of the sun –
juicy ripe delights

 

Summer Magic

At Poetic Bloomings, today we give our interpretation of summer magic.

Summer Magic
magic begins.
seeds placed into the warm soil –
Nurtured, drinking warm rain.
first the sprout and then slowly
the plant develops – stem, leaves, blooms –
and then the fruit of the magic –
tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, corn, green beans.
and the magic continues.
tart tomatoes juicy on the tongue.
vegetables cooked, steamed, grilled, roasted.
summer magic at its best.
summer meals.
the magic continues:
canned, pickled, made into preserves.
rows of food on strong shelves.
summer meals for the winter.
summer magic.
magic anticipated:
memories of the soft warm flesh of tomatoes.
musical snap of green beans
sensual shape of squash and cucumbers.
through the dark months of the winter.
dreams of summer magic.

copyright kanzensakura

 

Haibun: Summers Pass

For Poetic Bloomings – we write about lessons learned during a summer.

Summers Pass

We were tied together by summers. We met at a kendo and weapons demonstration. You in your black silk hakama – black on black dragons and your hair in a warrior’s knot and tucked into your obi, I saw you were carrying daisho – big/little – the katana and the wakizashi. My breath stopped in my chest. I was carrying in a duffle, the weapons of the man I was dating – well, third date at this time and to be honest, I had determined this would be the last date. Arrogant and loving to be cruel he wore his long blonde hair in a braid thinking somehow, it made him look like a Nordic badass. You gave a demonstration of the two swords and then began to spar with various partners. But at the end of the day, he rescued me from the badass and won the arms competition. We walked out together and the fairy tale began. Long hot summers together – a garden in the backyard of gravel, boulder, and koi pond and my half filled with veggies and old fashioned flowers. Summers of trips to Japan and sometimes in Europe. Long hot nights of love and hot days of your work in forensics and me licensing engineers. I don’t remember Christmases or Easters or Thanksgiving. I know we had them but it is only the summers I remember.

You taught me the use of the katana and your language. I taught you to fry chicken and make biscuits. East met South. But then you began to feel the call of your home. We talked and argued and argued and talked and the reality was – you had face to lose if you went home. I was not a trophy. I was short and wore glasses and my hair was long, black, and wavy. I was not tall and blonde. We knew you would be reduced to working in small 24 hour clinics. I was a liability. I loved you and I let you go. After you left, I only remember hot summers of being alone – practicing with my sword and meditating. And somehow, slowly healing. And one hot summer, I met a sweet blue eyed Southern man with kind hands and heart. He taught me again to open my heart and love. I still loved you and always will, but I learned to stand on my own again and to believe in myself. And the most important lesson of all, I learned that summer to love again, to open my heart and trust. I do not know the lessons you learned. But I know you never married. I know you dedicate your life to identifying the sad victims of the “Suicide Forest” and that in the Tsunami, you identified victims and returned them home.

summers pass In blurs –
love leaves but love returns and
hearts heal at long last

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Today at Poetic Bloomings, we have prompts of Summer Language such as chilled glass of….., dog days of summer, kissed by the sun or, we can use our own forms of language. To be honest, summer is not my favorite season and most of my language about it is unprintable. I don’t go to the beach until the winter. So below is my poem using my own language about Summer. I hope it is acceptable. Note: The Japanese call the Milky Way The River of Heaven or, amanogawa. Hatsuyuki is first snow.

Dog Nights of Summer
around the cream colored summer moon
the River of Heaven flows.
If I squint my eyes, I can see Orion and his dog
wading and splashing in the night cool water.
The sounds of insects thrum and fireflies
explode in the blackness like demented Morse code –
On off on off on on on off…
cicadas begin the buzz of the summer chorus –
deep and rhythmic and then the thin
piping of the tree frog –
high pitched and sweet – like nature’s castrato.
sweat rolls under my cotton blouse
and the cooling unit cranks up
cooling my husband’s deep sleep.
I fervently pray for hatsuyuki –
The first snow.

free public domain image

Tanka: Yaekumo

The tanka refers to clouds called by the Japanese – yaekumo – eight fold clouds or, double blooming cherry trees.

many layered clouds –
double blooming cherry tree –
cherry blossoms are
missed but always there are trees
blooming in the summer sky

My Night

This is my first visit to Poetic Bloomings, hosted by WALTER J. WOJTANIK and other grand folk over at Poetic Bloomings, another poetry community. Walt is the newest addition to our staff over at dVerse Poets Pub whose doors are closed for a brief summer hiatus. dVerse will be back in a couple of weeks! At Poetic Bloomings today, we were given the amazing poem “You Begin” by Margaret Atwood to be our inspiration. This is my poem inspired by that. I have left a link to my poem at Poetic Bloomings at: https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2016/07/05/an-entertaining-summer-day-5-you-begin/

My Night
the fiery sunset fades to grey
and grey becomes indigo and
at last black. In the blue hour birds
sing their last songs of the day.
the summer night begins.
this is my night of the summer
when animals creep about
and bats fly, this is my night
with smells of roses, freshly cut grass.
this is my time of silence
broken only by the sound of insects
and frogs singing the stars awake.
air cools and dew falls
and only I am awake to know
this time. the wild tuxedo cat
ignores me as he makes his way
to the bush where is the pile of food I leave for him
and eats his fill and then moves on.
the fawn has grown to a doe and
she grazes on the clover just out of my reach.
The roses of my neighbor and my gardenia
mingle their perfumes for one brief glorious moment.
a mockingbird splits the silence of my night
and begins his cycle of song.
the still cool sky lightens to grey
to heliotrope and then explodes
into sunrise.
this is the beginning of my summer day.