jornales

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

random seasons, a haiku/senryu series

stone wall

mottled hands escaping

through air

 

ham flavor

hangs about her sweater

hospice weekend

 

though touch-less

the intimate rustle of silk

 

fall

dog buries

bruises

 

hobbling out of my midnight winter moon

 

apple core

how to bottle

memories

 

a tiger

musing on my eye

autumn dusk

 

chopped beets

i wash the knife

of traces

 

open page

an opaque scent

in his bath water

 

oak stump–

i remember the hornets

last summer

 

shell shards

on a paint roller

a womb

 

November 25, 2014 Posted by | haiku, poetry, senryu | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

sunshine in the snow #23b NaHaiWriMo

sunshine in the snow–
your shaded eyes does not say
what you mean

My #23 haiku from NaHaiWriMo is posted on the facebook site.

About this haiku–doesn’t it bother you, too? As soon as the sun bursts stark white, all eyes disappear under dark shades and goggles. And shades these days come opaque in what looks like midnight blue, muddy brown, deep ocean black-green. We face each other like we’re blind when we’re talking to each other. And that bothers me, that’s where this haiku came from.

February 24, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry, senryu | , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

begonias once/wintry day/as if by decree, et. al

begonias once–
by her window waiting
on snow

shorn of its flowers
its name magnolia–
once

wintry day–
caricature of cherry trees
against opaque sky

ah, how it blossoms the Christmas cactus

as if by decree
the poinsettia sheds
a week from Christmas

January 6, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Stoned Bird (for One Shot Wednesday)

Night for us wraps the sun scruffy,
a rooster ruffled in flight, tossing
its last complaint: how long the wait
for three o’clock, the hour of
lead the hour to undo eternal
betrayal?

Unease stirs our beds made
of filaments, splinters
of our spirits borne on crumbs
we had long swallowed
then spewed out for
opaque dreams.

So unlike warblers, so
lacking their marrow-less lightness
to flitter on twigs, we toss in gales
to roost in flesh, demanding
silence as if to lure death
we must first die.

Straining to sing we cannot
either. If we were but robins, maybe
chords those daylong cries, those
dirges for absent mate, we may
un-shy declare—dark
is darker faith-less.

Who tears the pines in shreds,
pining notes so shrill these whirl
like tin stars? If we could
but like orioles blaze through our sadness
in the dark then singed, be land-
sobered but freed.

Yet, we are but ourselves un-cocked to night’s
endearments, tuned in to strident signals:
the steel-pipe whistles (if it were but Pan’s), the roar
under belly, a thud under foot then
the jingle of keys, a creak as joints
part to solitary landscapes

nightscapes where we have planted
monoliths that guiltless
we treasure priceless unlike we do our
spirit—this soundlessness in our
being, this singing bird
we have stoned.

I am posting this poem for One Shot Wednesday at the One Stop Poetry blog.
Join us – throw in your verses. Here are the rules (taken directly off their blog):
1. Write a poetic piece & post it on your blog
2. Then let us know about your post. Link back to One Shot
3. Sign up in the Mr Linky list, linking directly to your post, AFTER you’ve posted it.
4. Go visit others who have signed up! Offer support & encouragement. Share your love of words and insight respectfully. Please try to visit as many participating poets as you can. We all could use and appreciate kind feedback.

December 15, 2010 Posted by | free verse, poetry, reflection | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments