STREET NEWS an experiment on mixing haibun and haiga (haibunga)
Street news (a haibun)
A school of clams caused a shoreline village to gather whispers. A fisherman proposed that the shaman must talk to the chief clam. What about? A boy asked. The chief clam passed the word around…
hum by hum
moonlight floods
the secret code
Betrayed, the villagers turned to the clams and pried them open. In the streets, a furor rages…
about time
the chill turns
a white page
‘duayya’ (lullaby): taking a break from haiku to free verse
the birds will soon forget
how much the sun cradled the flowers
to bear the seeds
so easily borne
in the wind
so swift
to scatter to land
and bed and root
and be transformed
but for now the singing
heightens
each day as the sun begins
a lullaby
so unlike us
so unaware of our songs
we bloom and bed
and scour around
so we may seed
you and i
but fail to find a lullaby
so swift to turn away to forget
why we held hands in the moonlight
Also posted at my other blog, inner spaces, at http://gimperial.wordpress.com
*duayya (lullaby in Iluko of the northernmost region of the Philippine archipelago, my native tongue)
butterfly/and hummingbird–/after the same flower (and my other flower haiku at Sketchbook)
butterfly
and hummingbird—
after the same flower
snowdrop–
will I ever see
your face?
magnolias–
the longing begins
at moonrise
cherry blossoms
shedding in the moonlight—
the Milky Way
tulips—
recalling
my first kiss
salmon berry blossom:
how deep is your heart
for a hummingbird?
Published in haiku thread,Sketchbook April-May 2011 (kigo: flower)
red (for One Shoot Sunday)
the truth about red:
my heart is like a man’s
although it flickers not throbs
as the Sun I am absent at the zenith
but in living things i lend my flare
my color is red not gold
as Red i seep in or withdraw
i blossom vermillion in camellias, azaleas,
or metamorphose into the rose
when blossoms shed petals,
leaving a litter of brown scraps
i desert the flowers
or blaze in berries, persimmons—
when juiced i spurt red
after coupling with Earth
i, as the Sun, leave it with
fire for smoldering births
find me, Red,
on chipped off terra cotta bricks
a mitt of rust on stray feet
a red organdy dress
to lift the shroud off grieving
i drip red on tubs of basi
shared after evening prayers
flaring on a monsignor’s cheeks
chanting a Te Deum
i pull Red out of my chest
to cloak archbishops
in carmine the color of fresh blood
the blaze of martyrs
who bleed for others
drain their heart out
but locked in self
i dry out a heart turn it black
blood when it dries up
that’s me, a two-faced Diablo
the apparition sneaking in at night
death masquerading as love
a bouquet of red carnations on Fridays
seething trees through bumpy rides
a stone in the moonlight rooting on a mango tree
a branch for a splint on broken bones
a face bruised by kisses
scarlet spears in childhood dreams
your name on my breath
a deep breeze
i, Red, am also the Sun swirling down
on a violent hand
but soften on pink tulle over the fields
coaxing you to reach up to me
scooping you to turn in my arms
switch off your fears
to smoother you with my most tender tinge
i, the Diablo slung in your heart:
you‘re freed
*basi, fermented sugar cane, native wine in the northernmost edge of the Philippine archipelago.
Posted for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry where I can’t resist the challenge as the other poets and artists who congregate to share their love of art and poetry in this site. Check us out!
absolved (for One Shot Wednesday)
swallows burst into our crude mornings
their flight staggering on false winds
we gaze aghast
this fractured air birthed on false moonlight
unpredicted
our beggar voice fades into whimpers
fluttering splintered among fallen blossoms
the unabashed camellias bared
a scandal unmasked by a rude sunlight
our bleeding unabated
we slip into the brambles our sobs drowning
in the chatter of winds the river grumbles
about our tears
a sorrow tarnished by ageing stars
sputtering at dawn
a mourning heron ceases lending its grief
we recover our lips on pin drops of sky
the brambles open up for the wind
a chorus of ripples washes our bleeding
steps curl on our tears we rise
white among rhodoras
absolved
Copyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011
Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, winner of the 2011 Shorty Award for the Arts, the inimitable gathering place of poets and artists where they share their love for their art while nurturing each other. Come join us!