jornales

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

Doves (a haibun for One Shot Wednesday)

The dove pair stopped cooing today.

Last time I glimpsed them, each moved listless in the cage – tails fanning each other’s snow head, red eyes spying mine. No one could come near. Each guarded the other like furious sentries. Could they have known they made such a handsome pair?

The white pair would not leave the dovecote. I caught them glance the brown too common flock; and then they turned away, lidless red eyes back to each other.

all I can see
what I cannot see
in your eyes

The white doves were at a wedding today cooped up, as perhaps they would have wished in a bell. When the newlyweds tugged at a string, the doves fell together – confused by the crowd, helpless in the grasp of the bride and groom. When tossed up again, their wings seemed weak. For the first time, they flew away from each other each clutching at light cords hung from the ceiling of the room where a wedding party was rising to a pitch. Their webbed feet quivered uncertain of their hold, their eyes redder, blinking with fear; they trembled as if they had lost their wings.

Now the crowd worked at a game with the white pair as pawns. Whoever caught one of the pair would think it a prize. What a prize–the glee bubbled off their laughter. The crowd did not know; how could they?

riddle:
when do heartbeats rhyme
in what beat end?

In freedom, a gaping cave awaits to trap lovers or a mess of strings. For the doves, loss of the other is sorrow that stones a tiny heart.

Copyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, the inimitable gathering place for poets and artists. Check us out.

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April 26, 2011 Posted by | haibun, poetry, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Suppositions (One Shot Wednesday)

I gape at turtles dip legs
in a pool the sun
just now deserted.

Tipping on rock
I sway on a shell of suppositions
whether

or not water not light
whets the eyes, whether or not to sip
not to see fills cavities of

empty cages, gaping hearts
that sullen suns disabled
when deserting lovers

dredged the pool
of its clarity and water ebbed
on man-made rocks

where I now teeter, nudging
turtles on rock-edge, my legs dipped
but short on water, my toes

a ginger-spread
stalking my origins
elsewhere.

I mind the rain drowning
in pools or falling on ginger roots–
soon juiced for life—

but I don’t mind it falling
on crackling fire where
raindrops sizzle, the sound of

dying doused,
which props me up still balancing
on turtle back

eternal suppositions
that stilled the pool where I
have gelled.

Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry blog. Join me and other poets who write verses for love, read those of others, leave a word of encouragement and/or insight with the same love and respect. Post your piece on your blog and sign up in the Mr. Linky list.

December 29, 2010 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments