jornales

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

New works at Under the Basho: early darkness, winter dusk, on the verge, pale sunset, word storm,

early darkness —

the dough yields its breast

to my hands

 

cattails, January 2015

Under the Basho my personal best 2015

 

winter dusk—

we scoot over 

for shadows

 

Under the Basho Stand-Alone hokku 2015

 

on the verge

of rocketing–

scent of silence

 

pale sunset 

the blue heron’s

midlife

 

word storm 

turning shadows

into a burden

 

Under the Basho modern haiku 2015

 

December 26, 2015 Posted by | haiku | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

a throwback post…3 tanka at GUSTS Winter 2013

should I

consider my missteps

to understand…

how the Milky Way ended

with me in this pond?

 

like layers

of sunlight among weeds

our words

thrive on silence…until gushing

we burst into flowers

 

the twisted twig

of an old cedar leans

Westward

as if the wind senses

my every longing

 

GUSTS Fall/Winter 2013 (Tanka Canada)

September 30, 2014 Posted by | poetry, tanka | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

through lattices/what glues raindrops (two tanka)

1.

through lattices
this condensation
of phrases
the glimpses we veil
in silence

2.

what glues
raindrops to foggy
windows?
consider my hand
slipping away

LYNX February 2013

IMG_0085

February 7, 2013 Posted by | poetry, tanka, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

here there where (at qarrtsiluni’s ‘fragments’ issue)

day in the park

a cat eats weed flowers. my dog sits on the bird bath. a mom spreads a picnic blanket for baby’s feeding bottles. three crows swoop in on my bag of popcorn. a weed flower sticks to my dress.

the baby drools. on her blue bib. the sky turns golden.

i gather my crumbs under the blooming junipers. i pull up a heather. a squirrel flies over my head on a twig.
chippers chatter.

my heather turns blue. the baby picks a dandelion. the sun slides down. over skies a swarm of snowbirds fly home. i have no wings.

silence

silence is not the absence of sound. a sheer wall in the mind perhaps. a blockade for the heart. one cannot hear a heartbeat. the whooshing of blood in and out of ventricles. blubbering air in the lungs. a grumbling emptiness in guts. random complaints from muscles trapped in passions.

silence as gaping space traps what fills air waves. winds that fissures slurp. secrets blossoms share. coughing of uncouth machines. grating wheels those dumpsters edging out magpies. the cawing of crows to be understood. marble chirps colliding with fresh acorns among the pines. sonatas on toes around the rim of dreams.

births are seeded in silence. in secret. the first cry is a child of silence. wakefulness its gender.

new calendar

first day of the year. just another grey day. a pall on the new calendar. as if what makes a difference really doesn’t.

the ticking clock. a distant squawking of a crow or better yet, complaint. deep sigh of engines passing by. the trudge goes on.
i look on the cypress with a creeping sense of sorrow. the deep cold dark in its twigs. holiday gifts piled beside it now debris.
a black garbage bag rests folded in the bin.

i gather the cards. wishes slide off my fingers. a bag of pebbles waits to be planted in the vase. like wishes that might take root, i would have to water them each day.

blue notes waver in the light. as if there’s something i should know.

death still

death still on the shore. no breath lapping sand. the bay water clear as eyes. a selvage edge of secrets. a quiet suspiration under a translucent film of air. a shimmer that wavers underneath over shell shards.

emptied mollusks. spawning stones. furry algae. fibrous weeds.

dead still but not sealed. only walled in. like your eyes, when you stare within. an absent look. a vacant thought. like i’m not there.

http://qarrtsiluni.com/2012/08/21/here-there-where/

A special piece for me. All four reveal how I really write. Most of it have somehow strayed to a few of my haiku or tanka or even haibun. But this is me. I thank qarrtsiluni for this 2nd acceptance and publication.

I’m sorry for the vacant days. I’ve just been so busy with projects and the writing of a Sunday column for a broadsheet, Business Mirror Philippines. I’ll strive to catch up soon. Thanks for your continued support!

August 22, 2012 Posted by | fragments, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

‘fox moon’, a tanka sequence at Yay Words on ‘fox dreams’

fox moon

must it always be
this light
that draws your anguish
so feared so misunderstood?

your paws
on thawing banks the tracks
you left for me
as if I’ve lost you in
the moon’s shifting moods

silence
the midnight wind sends
you howling
always you miss my whispers
shushing your longings

in dappled shadows
the fire burns in your eyes
singes rustling leaves
you step in the moonlight
where we lay down your embers

come out of hiding
what greater fate is there
that awaits
than for us to bare our desires
we live for this and this alone

Thrilled to share my first in Aubrie Cox’s creative blog, Yay Words, included in a collection of poems by 34 known and published haiku/tanka poets on ‘fox dreams’. So honored to have my work alongside theirs. Thanks again to Aubrie for this wonderful project.  Check it out at http://yaywords.wordpress.com/2012/04/22/fox-dreams/  Or click on ‘Yay Words’ on my blogroll.

Image of silver fox courtesy of wikipedia commons, photo by Zefram

April 24, 2012 Posted by | poetry, tanka | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

winter trees (haiga)

winter trees

waiting on the silence

our breaths

 

(with my snap shot of Grouse Mountain, Vancouver from the lift last spring)

November 23, 2011 Posted by | haiga, poetry, reflection | , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

repetitions (haiga2 for 19 Planets Art Blog)

haiga2 using clip art on Microssft Publisher

ehoes
our silent repetitions
repetitions

repetitions
our silent echoes
repetitions

repetitions
of repetitions echo on silence

echoes on silence repetitions of repetitions

Posted for haiga challenge at 19 Planets Art Blog of Rick Daddario. I composed this haiga using clip art on Microsoft Publisher. The art came first and then the haiku. I seem to be good with visual prompts or I work better with them as I used to with the poems I wrote for the now defunct One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Challenge. Am I now creating my own prompts? I had never thought of it but with this second haiga, I’m starting to have fun. I hope it works.

So what’s the thought in the haiga? The cycles in our lives. The repetitions in shapes and sounds. Even invisibles our mind creates bounce back and forth as thoughts and feelings. Patterns and routes unfurl before us without our bidding. Because we need them. Repetitions. Because each day ends to begin again. Reassurances. Because each vow must be renewed. Reverberations. Because we hear better on a beat or rhyme. Repetitions because once never ends for us. Repetitions. We are embedded in them. We embed them in us.

September 8, 2011 Posted by | haiga, haiku, poetry, reflection | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Silence (perhaps a haibun inspired by Red Dragonfly)

Silence is not the absence of sound. A sheer wall in the mind perhaps. A blockade for the heart. One cannot hear a heartbeat. The whoozing of blood in and out of ventricles. Blubbering air in the lungs. A grumbling emptiness in guts. Random complaints from muscles trapped in passions.

Silence is a gaping space. Traps what fills air waves. Winds fissures of earth slurp. Secrets blossoms share. Coughing of uncouth machines. Grating wheels those dumpsters edging out magpies. The cawing of crows to be understood. Marble chirps colliding with fresh acorns among the pines. Sonatas on toes around the rim of dreams.

Births are seeded in silence. In secret. The first cry is a child of silence. Wakefulness its gender. Words its ears. And eyes.

morning glow
she watches tea leaves swirl
in the cup a bird
a quiver on an oak branch
a flight in the silence

(c) Alegria Imperial 2011

A morning exercise inspired by Melissa Allen’s sharing of her haiku and haibun in the current issue of Chrysanthemum. (Click on my blogroll for Red Dragonfly’s post today.) But for me, this is only an attempt at haibun. I think it’s more poetry outside of the genre and needs more work. I’m sharing it though as an example of how an inspiration springs and just flows or billows in.

April 12, 2011 Posted by | haibun, poetry, reflection, tanka | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

my ‘heart haiku’ (published in Sketchbook’s haiku thread Jan-Feb Vol 6 issue)

My choices

hearts of romaine—
between them candles flit
in the silence

she finds the embryo
of the seed–
not his heart

monitor—
his heart’s dips and coasts
but where is love?

losing a heartbeat–
on the hollow of her neck
and on her wrist

Editor’s choice included under ‘maternal love’

heartbeat—
her hand on her belly
searching for it

March 25, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

silence

silence—

 even seagulls imitate

 the stones

August 8, 2010 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , | 4 Comments