for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

your lullaby evening star my heart for broken wings (sequence for Mama for One Stop Poetry Sunday)

To Mama, a bamboo orchid her favorite flower, courtesy of wikipedia

your lullaby
all i can remember–
roosting sparrow

evening star–
your fingers the comb
for my tangled mind

your eyes my sister’s
my heart for broken wings
from you

i say Mama
and the wind entwines me
to the moon

i call you
and the night hums

in three lines:

your lullaby evening star my heart for broken wings
and the wind entwines me to the moon
and the night hums

Coyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

Posted for Mother’s Day at One Stop Poetry, winner of the 2011 Shorty Awards for the Arts, an inimitbale gathering of poets and artists who share their love for their art and nurture each other. Check us out.


May 8, 2011 - Posted by | haiku, poetry, sequence | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


  1. not so easy to have a “heart for broken wings” is it, Ali? Beautiful per all of your jornales…xxxj

    Comment by jenneandrews | May 8, 2011 | Reply

    • Jenne, how can I ever thank you for finding some beauty in my ‘jornales’, the wages I’ve appropriated for myself where no one could give? But Who/Him in whose hands all Creation we see/don’t and will never see begin and end. Yes, I do have a ‘broken heart’ or ‘breaking heart’ almost in every moment.

      What’s this malady of knowing that in both beauty and exultation also lie lurking to take over their opposite? I’ve felt this as a child, which is why I could never be totally joyful or if at all, only for a moment. As if I have another person as whole as I am on my back looking at the other side of things. I cried over fireflies as a child and at symphonies and ballets as an adult–that’s up to now. Having discovered haiku though those crying jags have lessened–I write a haiku or a longer poem instead.

      And why am pouring this out to you? Because you’ve opened a lid like some fairy godmother wanting to know how a goddaughter is doing underneath the bowery you’ve made out of a bent sky over her–indeed, you’ve cupped my ‘broken heart’.

      Mil gracias, mi amada amiga!

      Comment by alee9 | May 9, 2011 | Reply

    • Hi again, Jenne! I’m sorry about that first reply! It was sort of off tangent, wasn’t it? Yes, aside from a heart that “always seems to break”, I have this melting heart “for broken wings”. And yes, it’s not easy because once I take them into my palm and into my heart, they’re no longer as airy as the “wings” they’re supposed tobe–light as air or the marrow-less wingbone and feather-rib. Heavier than darkness is what they turn out to be. Sometimes, I get bowed down with their sorrow but that’s when i could muster some hidden steeliness and come off distanced and freed. Or I grow light threds to keep breathing as they recover from their brokenness.

      I love how you open up ‘conversations’! Please do come by again!

      Comment by alee9 | May 9, 2011 | Reply

  2. nice…there is some lovely imagery…roosting sparrows…combing the mind…i call you and the night hums…very nice

    Comment by brian | May 8, 2011 | Reply

    • Dear Brian, you do always uplift ‘my heart’ where it’s floundering! Thanks a zillion!

      Comment by alee9 | May 9, 2011 | Reply

  3. I like how you’ve gotten more out of your poem with the same words by rearranging and refining their message there at the end. As always, full of beautiful and haunting images, and singing language. Sorry to be so late getting by–and thanks for your comments at my place.

    Comment by hedgewitch | May 9, 2011 | Reply

    • Thank you, Joy! Yes, I couldn’t resist the ‘singing within’ when I read the sequence aagain. I’m thrilled to know from you that it works. Don’t worry about being late–I’m always late myself. I’m drowning or better yet, burning to be consumed by haiku and a lyrical prose collection I’ve set myself to finish within the year. I try to make it to OSP’s Wednesdays and Sundays but someday soon, I might have to drop out or that’s when all I have left in my head will be ashes. Thank you so much again!

      Comment by alee9 | May 12, 2011 | Reply

  4. your lullaby
    all i can remember–
    roosting sparrow

    Just love this, hermana!

    Comment by Margaret Dornaus | May 10, 2011 | Reply

    • I so love it, too! I can still hum that lullaby or I do by heart–it’s Barcarolle from the Tales of Hoffman. It has a soothing rocking feeling to it. Mil gracias, mi hermana!

      Comment by alee9 | May 12, 2011 | Reply

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