~ eight years and 1000 “follows” ~
smoke a kyoka
21 May 2020 16 Comments
frank(ly) i thank ya
not to mess with my tanka
(syllabic rut stuck)
why can’t japanese mora
fit my english euphora?
Frank J. Tassone challenges us to “meet the bar” of tanka/kyoka writing at dVerse poets pub.I had learned strict syllabic writing of these forms so was surprised by Frank’s notes:
“Now, a brief word on tanka/kyoka and syllabic writing. Beginners are often taught that both tanka and kyoka need to be written in no more than 31 syllables, usually broken up into a 5-7-5-7-7 pattern. However, an English syllable is a different linguistic unit from a Japanese mora, and the counts refer to mora, not syllable. If an English-language writer of Japanese forms wants to write accurately, the proper syllable count for a haiku/senryu would be 10-12, and a tanka/kyoka 20-24.”
leaving home
19 May 2020 27 Comments
life portals bear import
more than ports of call
they demand deportment
choose to step through
this door to the other side
as it shuts quietly behind
there’s no going back now
the goodbyes and hellos of
these unmasked emotions
express momentous change
leave outgrown past for
future’s fresh opportunities
every end is new beginning
I stare at empty nest as our fourth son is now married and moved out…and Anmol (HA) hosts dVerse poetics with interesting with “portals” prompt. How fitting!
contemplation
12 May 2020 4 Comments
in haiku, Uncategorized
awaken at night
moon illumines tree branches
teacup half empty
image by Michael Schwartz
master basho
28 Apr 2020 5 Comments
in haibun, Uncategorized Tags: cherry blossoms, frog, grass, haiku, Japan, master
Frank Tassone invites us to write haibuns on Basho/Shakespeare at dVerse Poets.
Matsuo Basho lived simply and walked lightly on the island of Japan. His tiny home was in the village of Edo. One spring day, Basho felt restless and decided to travel by foot across the country. He went in search of cherry blossoms. For his journey, Basho wore a paper hat, black robe, and woven grass sandals. He carried his ink stone and writing paper wrapped in a cloth.
He followed the winding river, sat in a cool waterfall cave, and visited a thousand-yr.-old twin pine. Eventually, he came to an orchard of blossoming cherry trees! A farmer loaned him a horse to ride through a vast, grassy field. He took baths in hot springs and swam in the sea. He ate whatever he found or was given along the way: vegetables, wild rice, noodles, fish.
In the mountains, Basho joined friends for a full moon party. Drinking tea and rice wine, they composed poems together about the night sky. Basho often stopped in his travels to quietly listen and observe. He watched the fog, heard grasshoppers, touched an iris, and tasted rain. Focusing on the moment made Matsuo a haiku master.
do not bash basho
wikipedia image
named himself “banana tree”
writer of frog pond
Information on Basho’s life taken from a lovely children’s book, Grass Sandals, by Dawnine Spivak with beautiful illustrations by Demi.
just asking
23 Apr 2020 3 Comments
in american sentence, question poem, Uncategorized
So…what is it about men that it always has to be their idea?! 😉
perfectly imperfect
10 Apr 2020 4 Comments
Marriage is a meeting, a melding, a matching of two primaly different perspectives. It’s a perfectly imperfect study in passion where one discovers a fine line between ecstasy and agony. Beware of emotional baggage that packs bitterness…open up to launder, expose contents to fresh air.
Love and hate are but two sides of the same coin. Consider the root of anger. Do I really hate YOU in this moment? Or do I hate that you do not (cannot?) love me the way that I really want to be loved? Let go with an open heart, hold on with warm hands. Forgiveness preserves togetherness.
social distancing
will bring out the best and worst
grace always wins
spring forecast
09 Apr 2020 Leave a comment
in haiku, Uncategorized Tags: flurries, forecast, grackles, snow, sunny
unpredictably
sunny, with flurries of snow
and common grackles
image: animals.net
close/open
06 Apr 2020 33 Comments
when restaurants close,
drive throughs open double lanes
to serve safely.
when schools close,
teachers open online rooms
to teach remotely.
when surgical centers close,
hospital personnel open doors
to care courageously.
when church buildings close,
God’s people open united hearts
to pray faithfully.
Linking to dVerse Poets quadrille prompt…44 words on “close”.
hindsight is 2020
05 Apr 2020 9 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: apocalypse, paint chip, pandemic, revelation
Linking to Linda’s fearless paint chip poetry prompt…I used all the colors 🙂 Also, check out dVerse poetics where Bjorn invites us to write on this time of the plague.
perhaps, looking back, we
may possibly be tickled pink
to experience the good fortune
of living through the apocalypse—
not of destruction, but revelation,
which sharpens iron, unveiling
nuts and bolts of wiser choices
like bright sunburst in your eyes;
the sweet ’n sour of life’s losses
purges the palate (and palette)
even as it washes away our
fragile sand castle dreams.
paint chip samples
a poem in my pocket 
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