This is another drawing I recently found. I just colorized it today. Back before refrigeration and shipping from all over the world, people had to make their vegetables last all winter. By March there would be little choice left…
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.
Precise lines define A casual arrangement All relaxed yet snug Between exact and sloppy Sketch my day in shades of life
This was written for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge. This week she gave us two words, Loose and Tight, and asked us to include synonyms of those words. I chose to write a tanka today.
A little over a week ago I went through some sketch pads and found a few old drawings. If you remember, I used a pastel of Notre Dame for my poem last week. This drawing is from a class I took many years ago. I’ve been trying to find an excuse to use it, and now I have one :)
Music Handmade glass bulbs Ancient songs about birth Cheap ornaments bought in childhood Gingerbread
The sadly-sweet strains of Vince Guaraldi’s piano fill the air with the melancholy of Charlie Brown, and with nostalgia. I open the package and carefully unwrap the treasures within. I smile at the first priceless item, a box with cheap bulbs from the 1930s bought at an antique store for only a dollar. That was from my first Christmas alone. Next there is a bulb wrapped in tissue from several years later. It was bought at an art gallery for more than the price of 20 boxes of Wal Mart ornaments. But then there are those Wal Mart specials, all gold and red. As I go through the decorations one-by-one and slowly fill the tree, the music changes to the late medieval music of Praetorius. Why did Christmas demand to have a soundtrack that included so much from the medieval and Renaissance? The last bulb up, I stand back as the Roche’s version of Sleigh Ride adds a joyful note to the air.
Bing crones White Christmas Ancient boxes hold treasure Gingerbread spices Sounds heard but once every year Add sparkle to old glass bulbs
The hills reflect you The wind is filled with your scent The birds call your name You may not be by my side But in nature, I find you
This was written for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. This week’s challenge was to write an ekphrastic poem based on the watercolor that Colleen provided (top of page – Image by Barbara A Lane from Pixabay). I wrote a tanka for the challenge.
(Ekphrastic poetry explores art. It is poetry that gives the poet’s impression of a work of art. It can describe it, but it can also tell a story about the work or give the poet’s impression on seeing the visual artwork.)
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.
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.