jornales

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

Shuffled seasons (for One Shoot Sunday)

photo prompt by Greg Laychak

The narrow aisle flows a river to a wall
Of white thought

What squares of light have no glow
On the surface of water?

Who spawns the flat bed of dreams my steps
Struggle to cover?

Imprisoned by air I breathe a stale paradise
Of jasmine blossoms

I hear the rain a hissing of limbs on trees
But the moon does not rise

Day ends at my door night turns the stars
Upside down

‘”Where is your walker?” “Excuse moi?” What tongue
Speaks in this land?

“You cannot leave without it?” “Why, who’s heading out?”
The grubs I picked wriggle

In my closed fist I am growing a butterfly
No one knows

In my bareness I feel drenched in dew my bones
Misaligned rattle

“Now let’s go back in.” “Who has left her?”
No one comes today

I draw a caul on the day withdraw into night
Retrieve what’s lost

The sign posts melt on the flowing river
My hair long undone

I shuffle the seasons: in my eyes autumn leaves fall
But cherry blossoms

Oh, he rises to me my cane I draw my arms a lover
Now my wings

Copyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

Written with an image prompt by Greg Laychak for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry, winner of the 2011 Shorty Award for the Arts, the inimitable gathering place for poets and artists. Share with us as we do ours your art or poetry and your thoughts. Check us out.

April 24, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

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!

April 19, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

plea for a poem (for One Shot Wednesday)

write me a poem
words to breathe in
even if only whispers
as shouts have turned
the air into a
hail storm

write me some rain–
my heart crackles
in the draught longing
for words drenched in
thought to sip
in the dark

i yearn for verses
snipped from flame tips
words that dance
the fire of fallen angels
saved from their march
on dying coals

write me a song
cadenced in sunsets
tympanis of words
rising off the hum
of meanings
drums have flattened

give me back poems
shredded spirits birth
in caves midnights cleanse–
poems howling wolves
hankering for stars
divine

Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry as my share in a lively exchange of art and poetry among a loving community of poets and artists who nurture each other. Follow us at the site. Click on OSP on my blogroll.

February 22, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 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

the copper sea (for One Shoot Sunday)

the sun sets copper
on the sea swarming over
desert longings
lapping our dreams

on our footprints
a heat rises on ghosts
of foam cresting
for the stars

the sand sinks
death our sun desires
drained on our footprints
unquenched

no shadows lurk
here the light fractures
the pining twilight
leaves splinters

on the sand
the copper sea turns in
a petulant phantom
on our footprints

unwashed silted

footprints by Iquanyin Moon

Posted for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry, a community of poets and artists who love their art and sustain each other.

January 30, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

pine tips (a haiku rewritten from a non-haiku)

pine tips holding up
to the winter sky–
how low can stars fall?

the non-haiku

Pine strands
flailing: how low can stars fall?

Why I think it’s not haiku:

1. it doesn’t have the two parts of a haiku
2. the first part is an incomplete thought, also, wrong word usage–strands don’t quite describe pine branches and flailing suggests something like strips or threads or strands like hair which could describe willow branches–hence,
3. the second part is meaningless or
4. the juxtaposition does not work
5. therefore, it’s not a haiku moment

Perhaps the rewritten version works better though I’m still uncertain about it. The second part might be, as Patrick G would describe, ‘author-driven’. But I’m quite content that I’m seeing batches of non-haiku I’ve written more clearly, and writing haiku that work sometimes.

What had helped? Reading a lot, interacting with haiku lovers-writers who have turned friends-who-care like Patrick Gillespie at poemshape and Margaret Dornaus at haikudoodle, but reading especially Melissa Allen’s haikuverse at red dragonfly. And there’s the monthly meeting with my Haiku Vancouver Group!

January 27, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

take 3 (edit)

Oh, nooo! I lost the red dragonflies in “picking autumn leaves comment”–not in the bingo prize (pomegranate)!

Here is what maybe I meant:

on an evening trail
of red dragonflies swarming
in a pool, stars

October 29, 2010 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , | 6 Comments