jornales

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

a romance diary (a haibun experiment) for One Shot Wednesday

…grey dense skies barring the sun again, chilly on bare skin, spring refusing to leave so much so that even the leafing maple shading the terrace has browned with curled edges in spots, mistaking the air has retracted to autumn, perhaps? Even Nature seems dazed but I’m clear about this memory

spring’s end–
the squirrel flies a trapeze
as we cuddle

…amazing how the sun weakens on spring air yet its sparks illumine all else as in this thought filled in

a weak sun
glitters on spider web–
vacant corners

…even main street breathing unevenly at night has ceased in its restlessness as if the air has suffused all else to a quiet that for me opens up to reach out if it were but a soft turn in sleep when

mute stars–
spaces in between them
open up for whispers

…the night has bounced back in restlessness from a momentary calm which lulled me earlier in a dreamless space but awake now, recalling nights when I would feel lost, feeling an empty space on your side of the bed, but only briefly as you slip back in to turn back

the night
but for the darkness
our roost

…perhaps because they have built their nests, the birds seem to sing a different tune, refrains that rise this morning over the distant grumbling of jets flying off as I compose our song for another day

waning spring–
the wind rearranges petals
tightening us together

An edited version of an earlier post for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, the only gathering place that brings poets and artists to share their art freely, comfortably, and joyfully and nurture each other. Check us out!

June 7, 2011 Posted by | diary/memoir, haibun, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

squabbling crows/sunny day at Zoo/the drum beat of rain NaHaiWriMo prompts turned tanka!

1. Prompt #24 flower
squabbling crows
scream into my thoughts–
at dawn how you left
hollow imprints of sleep
scented dreams of jasmine blooms

2. prompt #25–zoo
sunny day at Zoo
lioness searches for my eyes
behind my black shades–
the way we hold our hearts
as we speak of fears and wants

3. prompt #26–drum
the drum beat of rain
on window pane imprints tears
a flood breaking hearts
in loneliness gray rain sneaks
into wells to fill the dryness

Tanka drafts I should call these because I’m certain that when I read them tomorrow, they will sound bad. These came as spontaneously as the haiku I’ve been posting on the NaHaiWriMo wall. There’s an energy that takes over at the site like a hand that holds my wrist as I pause or pose to let the first word dance on the screen. It’s the presence of so many other haiku writers– whose names I recognize from the Shiki kukai and haiku journals even some haijin–that I think itself serves as the prompt and the word, a prop. The experience, though I hopped in only on Day 19, has been exhilarating.

February 26, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry, tanka | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Scars (for One Shot Wednesday)

Buried crosses mark the grave of
my dreams, swags of pelt my days
had shed.

On crest of foam the sun floats, rising
only to splinter on sand where I picked
my dawns on the loam of my waking.

Waves heave but on my breath die, heaps
of air too leaden for flying. I crave
for sleep blankness promised: as

the sea washes blank the sky, its blueness
sinks to my cheeks. I wear the dawn,
a bruised mask.

Who reads my mask steals inscriptions of
secrets, sighs whorled in space: betrayal
has stripped me raw

my flesh, layers of omissions. I plaster
ribbons of sin on my breast, waiting in corners
where I remain still dreaming.

Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry where this day of the week, amazing poetry is shared by more than a hundred poets whose passion and love for the art comes ablaze. Join us and be inflamed like I’ve been since.

February 16, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Here (for One Shoot Sunday)

Haunted Grainery, a photo by Sean McCormick

Night dying can’t be quiet
here: the air sputters,
roars. Dogs cough
in their sleep. Water laps
edges of dreams.

Darkness bleeds, floods
the field. Wheat grain
swaying in crimson stun
the absent moon. The sky
spits stars.

Someone rises
in the dark, pattering feet
alone. Phantom paws
race the light, those
purple spears

leaving bruises
night inflicts on sleep. No one
waits for night dying
here: day isn’t
a likely light.

Posted at One Stop Poetry for One Shoot Sunday from a photo by Sean McCormick titled, “Haunted Grainery”. Join other poets and artists like me who have bonded as a community of lovers for their art.

February 6, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments