What does the image at the top have to do with the subject of the poem? A few months back I had a really strange dream. While trying to describe it to Sue Vincent, I decided to draw a quick picture. I later added it to the post (which you can see if you go to the post).
Thunder in my ear Torrent pulls all into void But then there is you Storm’s raging maelstrom paints grey Your bright rainbow shields me
This was written for Colleen’s weekly Poetry Challenge. This week she provided the wonderful photo at the top. What we wrote was up to us, though she suggested doing an Ekphrastic and to talk about the psychology of color. I chose to write a tanka.
It is so solid, strong, that I feel it must last forever. Until disaster proves that nothing is forever. I feel so solid, strong, I feel I can last forever. Until…
Chalk dust Pastel sky Fragile
This was written for Collen’s weekly poetry challenge. This is the first Tuesday of the month, so it is poet’s choice. I chose a haibun with a senryu (or maybe a haiku) that I did in a 2-3-2 form.
I was digging through some old drawings and found this from May of 2001 – 20 years ago! I had just returned from Paris and used a photo I had taken of Notre Dame for this pastel drawing. The cherry trees were in bloom while we were there…
Look back Where I have gone History in footfalls My feet now in the sand Yearn to write more Future
This was written for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge. This week we are to use synonyms for the words Past and Present. Colleen also encouraged us to try using the form “Badger Hexastitch”, which is a six-line unrhymed poem with the syllabic form of 2-4-6-6-4-2.
A light in the void That dot is another world Complete on its own Infinite patterns of space Does it make me small or big?
This was written for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. This week was poet’s choice. I decided to write tanka and use a photo I recently took of Jupiter and the four Galilean moons. The discovery of the moons, distant worlds all of their own having nothing to do with Earth, caused a panic in the minds of a world that thought humans were the reason for the Universe to exist.
Bare branches, half guessed, a darker black silhouetted against void, whisper amongst themselves in the northern breeze. A few last leaves flutter down. A flash of silver is quickly hidden, the magic light extinguished as rapidly as it had appeared. Looking up, I guess where the moon lies hidden behind the blanket of turmoil that is the sky. I wrap my jacket tighter around myself, but can’t stop the moist air from seeping in, hungerly stealing my warmth. The approaching dawn has been hijacked, the sun led astray, for the sky remains that slate grey.
White rim on last leaf Dull glow illuminates grey November dark clouds
This was written for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge. This week we used a theme, which was given by Sue Vincent in the form of a haiku (see below). I wrote a haibun with a haiku for the challenge.
Naked and alone In the heart of the forest Is all really lost? When innocence is taken Do we mourn it gone or live?
This was written for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. This week the challenge is not only a photo challenge, it is also an “Ekphrastic”, that is a poem that explores a work of art. The work of art, provided by Diana Peach, is the famous image by John Bauer of Princess Tuvstarr gazing into the deep pond forever, mourning her lost heart. She had lost all as she journeyed into the deep forest, but it was her heart of gold that ended the journey. Many think that she was mourning her lost innocence, which is the interpretation that I took in my tanka.
I walk along, breathing the frosty late autumn air. Leaves rustle, speaking as they are moved aside by my feet. But then I pause, silencing their death rattle. Is there another sound? I listen. The trees, some still wearing a wispy shroud of yellow, brown and orange, whisper to me. What secrets will they share?
I am told that the adoring crowds had called his name. He had stood, proud, chin up, condemning all who disagreed as sad losers. His followers chanted back his very words. Is the wind echoing these throngs? Are the words still alive, speaking to condemn all who he perceived as an enemy?
No. A senseless babble about how in the years too many to count, the span of the life of one man is meaningless is all that I hear. He is silenced now, and the words forgotten. Not even the wind will remember.
Wind whispers through leaves Does the tree grow on a mound Its purpose long lost? The mighty king ruled the land Now is just forgotten dust
This was written for Colleen’s Poetry Challenge. This is week 200! This is a theme week, and the chosen them is The Illusion of Power. My mind went two ways – the graveyard scene in Hamlet on the one hand, and our current politics on the other. Of course, there is also Halloween coming up… Put together with recently read words about hundreds of grave barrows of forgotten kings, well… I chose to write a Haibun with a Tanka at its core.