jornales

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

My haiku at haikudoodle’s ‘Dia de los Muertos’ (Day of the Dead) page, a theme for the month

My haiku beautifully interwoven with excellent and masterfully crafted haiku, tanka and haiga by mostly great poet friends at Margaret Dornaus’ Dia de lost Muertos (Day of the Dead) page at her blog haiku doodle shared as link on my blogroll. It’s a month-long theme with prayers offered for our beloved dead in most Christian Catholic churches. Check it out!

pine sprigs—
discarded memories
on an old grave

candle drippings
on the epitaph—
a broken word

disarmed
the cypress grove
bares my grief

autumn rain
on the stone virgin’s shoulders—
my tears

day of his death
a paddle of wings
forever

Because there were no pictures during the burials and the graves of my beloved dead, I’m posting here my shot in a vist last summer at Robert Frost’s grave at First Church, Bennington, Vermont, his eptiaph: ‘I had a lover’s quarrel with the world’. Buried with him in this grave are his wife and children

November 6, 2012 Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

riddle (for One Shot Wednesday featured and critiqued by Jendi Reiter at winningwriters.com)

from flints flung off
cliffs where crags snag
fledglings came my seed,
buried, until as sapling
i spiraled off ground. air
feeds me but it turns

poison when i exhale, cracks
when as blossom i break,
feigning petulance. i am crowned
when i abscond words.

i bear fruit when my
flesh oozes. my dreams
drip when birds hang where i gaze
on a promise; moons that sprout on my limbs i count
as wings resisting winds.

my yearnings
wear out the sun, singe my heart
a thousand times. but always
at dawn i bud.

Copyright 2008 by Alegria Imperial
Critique by Jendi Reiter at http://www.winningwriters.com October 2008

Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, THE gathering place for poets and artists of inimitable works who also nurture each other. Check us out. Better yet, hop in!

May 31, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

zenith at noon (for One Shoot Sunday)

Photo prompt by Fee Easton

rain combs the strands
of our adagios:

expanse of thoughts
farther than the ends of flights
wings aching for home
a sight among stars

we tread the waves
sink in whirlpools deeper
than the heart of the flower
a hummingbird chooses

lighter
than marrow-less limbs
skimming skies
bending the spheres

constellations pirouette
on mid-strains cresting to slope
to skid onto silken lilies
our bed of seasons

in our clasped hands
the sea regurgitates the sun
froth fizzes a tickle
on our kissing toes

the sea breeze binds horizons
our eyes delude a sunset
our dawns begin
the night

the zenith at noon
the depth of our dreaming

Copyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

From a photo prompt by Fee Easton this poem is posted for One Shoot Sunday yet another challenge at One Stop Poetry, the inimitable gathering place of poets and artists, winner of the 2011 Shorty Awards for the Arts. Come join us. Share your love for your art. Be thrilled over what others say and what you discover of others’ works.

May 15, 2011 Posted by | free verse, lyric poetry, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

your lullaby evening star my heart for broken wings (sequence for Mama for One Stop Poetry Sunday)

To Mama, a bamboo orchid her favorite flower, courtesy of wikipedia

your lullaby
all i can remember–
roosting sparrow

evening star–
your fingers the comb
for my tangled mind

your eyes my sister’s
my heart for broken wings
from you

i say Mama
and the wind entwines me
to the moon

i call you
and the night hums

in three lines:

your lullaby evening star my heart for broken wings
and the wind entwines me to the moon
and the night hums
Mama

Coyright (c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

Posted for Mother’s Day at One Stop Poetry, winner of the 2011 Shorty Awards for the Arts, an inimitbale gathering of poets and artists who share their love for their art and nurture each other. Check us out.

May 8, 2011 Posted by | haiku, poetry, sequence | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

the bride (for One Shoot Sunday)

dawn
settles on her barefeet
a starling craving to
flex wings

the ground quivers
from her tender steps unease
spreads
among wet stones

she wiggles
off her restless sighs
to undo her veil of wind
her hair loosens

strands of singing
rise over the heartbeat
of sparrows
she becomes a pair of wings

shirred skirt
the feathers she preens
to a sheen that stuns
a hesitant sun

the day flexes
on her limbs a thrumming
wakens the tender
lilies she stalked in her dreams

she steps into
her gaping red shoes
the brooding crows
scatter

a ruckus spreads
among the dandelions
the seagulls catch in fevered
pitch

she walks
parting the congregation
in blindness deaf
to the grumbling

over the rise
among the pines she raises
her arms an arc
to the sky

a swallow
skimming the meadow
where heads limp in the breeze
but balloons from her wedding

the gulls shriek
it pierces her flight
she careens
down the hill snags

a thread of her dream
first a thump
of the wearied balloon
that pumped her wings

next her toes
like a bird poised to fly
in a fall

(c) by Alegria Imperial 2011

Photo prompt by Lauren Randolph

For One Shoot Sunday at One Shot Poetry, winner of the 2011 Shorty Award for the Arts. Come check us out and share your art and poetry–it’s what we do her, share and nurture each other.

April 10, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

What do you see? (for One Shoot Sunday)

Photo prmpt by James Rainsford

1.
What do you see?
Not the span of my wings I ask not
Or the pin-lock of my beak

My eyes made of gems
Creation shielded you may not covet
If you could a universe

A glimpse of my wings
Such envy it has spawned in hearts like yours
The rufous I bank on in flight

If I perch on a shoulder
You could die in sheer awe of mine–ample
And reddish like the flare of the sun

Unsteady your life as your feet
Had rocked you solid blind to what I see
On my tarsus firm on a twig

2.
Stone from stone
That heart of yours locked in cold
I feel no pity

A head you preened
No sign of polish and spark
In coagulated cells

I squeal I do
Keee-r-r nothing to your hollow ears then
Mortar-filled now as your brain

A soul you wrapped
In manners as translucent as words un-rooted unlike
Mine seed-like but forward in my breast

I winter in forests you burrow
Lifeless in dark cavities imitating iridescent skies
Making it like home but you are wingless

3.
What do you see?
Battlefields you scoured between your agonies
And waning moons?

Or spires that sway under a mid-heaven
You strived to pierce to let spurt secrets
The constellations conceive?

Filigreed walls behind you
Await for storms to cease heaving
Whispering luring the darkness

Columns prop up the dome
You unfurled over the stare of an accusing sky
Do you see their spine corroding?

What do you see?

4.
As stone you see
Not twigs that soon arc to meet
A pink horizon

Or a black patch
Where drooping snowdrops
Bloom tufts on your path

You had trudged
On paths crushing crocuses and dandelions
Shredding silken azalea sighs

Eyes on grit you missed
Evergreens flailing in the wind to snag
the first low star

As you stepped into a
carrion’s day like a crow squawking at sky
hopping on a dumpster grinding by

I’m posting this poem for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry from a picture prompt by James Rainsford. Come join us in this gathering place where a most amazing selection of talented artists and poets share their work while nurturing each other.

March 20, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

route (sequence with a lesson on how to breathe life to a ‘lifeless haiku’)

on a bench—
granny arching
to a waltz

on the ground
black-eyed posies,
but not for me

over head
a robin trills, i race
the train

pine strand
flailing in night sky—
the first low star

pasta bowl
and cranberry juice
with no one

Published in LYNX XXIII:3, October 2008

These were separate haiku I labored to make ‘perfect’ but hardly ever tried to submit, having at that time received one rejection after another. And so, I put them together as a titled sequence and got an acceptance from Werner Reichold, my first publication after my one and only haiku award from VCBF haiku invitational.

But as I’m won’t to do, two of the haiku have since danced on into a full poem in free verse: #3 became “first kiss” posted here for One Shoot Sunday, #4 out of the image ‘flailing in the night sky’, I wrote “revenant” published in The Cortland Review.

Lesson: on how to save one’s own self from ‘grief’ of a ‘lifeless haiku’ or how to breathe life on a ‘lifeless haiku’

Do not delete/discard/bury it. Instead, keep it wrapped in angels’ wings.

Let it sleep the sleep of bulbs of daffodils and star lilies.

Wait for spring in your spirit.

And then, unwrap them, buff them and watch the wings stir, flapping weakly at first.

And then, with your touch, watch the lines soar!

January 24, 2011 Posted by | haiku, sequence | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In tatters

She sprints away
as if to leap onto a curdled sky.

Wind-strands race her up,
flick-ends her arms as if
in tender knowing. But she gives no
cheek-turns no lip-end-lifts
to faces blooming essences
nothing but a vacant sweep of
airless breathing, weightless
arm swings. She trudges on.

Above, a sky grovels—
red cheeks billowy like hers, ridged
on edges too, a likeness clouded
over. She turns up eyes mirroring
silence loneliness gifts the sunset.
Plump faces veil her sky,
hiss endearments that splatter
on her steps. She waves whispers off,
the broken lover, heart only
on the face lies inflamed.

She trudges on,
racing to bend the light, fold away
the blue hurls disguised as kisses,
three roses popping off a fist, a love
misled he cloaked her with. On her steps,
sun and sky conspire into a fire
roaring into her regrets,
freeing her in tatters like wings.

She trudges on.

Posted for One Shoot Sunday from a photo of KJ Halliday. Join other poets at One Stop Poetry blog who write verses for love, read those of others, leave a word of encouragement and/or insight with the same love and respect. Post your piece on your blog and sign up in the Mr. Linky list.

January 9, 2011 Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

First snow (one shot Wednesday)

Hush,
heaven stealthily drops to earth in clouds that cease
breathing, wings folded on trees, prayers
poised for flight.

We walk tipped on toe-points
to taste to feel this heaven dropping,
melting, sizzling, burning through black grounds—
our iced-beings.

Hush,
heaven drops from ir-recognizable skies
on whorled grounds our rages disowned
muting prayers of those who sigh.

Hush,
though the heart has no ears.

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.

November 24, 2010 Posted by | poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments