Thursday, March 21, 2019

black clouds



charred earth, i return to you
my voice hoarse as wind
murmuring goodbyes you don't hear
a fireball caught me

as my voice, hoarse as wind
was silenced by explosion
a fireball caught me
how was i to know death came

silently, an explosion
the sky was burning river
how was i to know death came 
from clouds, black by silt and stones 

as the sky turned to burning river
murmuring goodbyes you don't hear
from clouds, black by silt & stones, to
charred earth, i return to you



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Kim Russell.   
This poem is written for those killed in the recent Ethiopian airline crash, that killed 157 people on board. "Some family members have been given charred earth from the crash site to help remember their loved ones."

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

catching my silhouette


a black hawk
hunches inside of me

subway train grinds, 
moving the city 
in same direction
to east/west
then south/north



actually, the animal 
may be a giant whale
heaving one deep exhale

-who0000oosh-


overhead, perched on buildings 
are pigeons and gulls
scavenging scraps of bread
mirroring city folks, 
whose bodies move clock-
wise, counter clock-
wise

i listen
-hummmm-

of bees & hummingbirds
to murmuration of starlings
carrying me
to feet of wild forest 
to towering hair of willow tree



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetic Hum hosted by Gina.  I am always striving to hear my poetic hum above the noise of the city and my hectic work life.
The challenge:
What is the poetic hum in your life? What hums in the background of your life that inspires you as you unconsciously listen while you work and live? Is the drone always there or do you have to cultivate the inspiration?

Thursday, March 14, 2019

lessons of life



Teach me tough love
Staking my stand, numbed with fear
Grow my hands thick, boxing gloves
When I'm speared by slights and jeers

Staking my stand, numbed with fear
Flint my spirit with fire
When I'm speared by slights and jeers 
Rocket my voice, clanging up to spire

Flint my spirit with fire
Through cloudy days & starless nights
Rocket my voice, clanging up to spire
Sky is my cathedral, pewtered in light

Through cloudy days & starless nights
Grow my hands thick, boxing gloves
Sky is my cathedral, pewtered in light
Teach me tough love




Posted for dVerse Poets -Thanks to Victoria Slotto for giving us some pointers in writing poetry forms.    This post is linked to Poetry Form:  Pantoum.  Any constructive feedback is appreciated.   The backgrounder for this poem is learning about a nephew who is being bullied in high school and is undergoing some self esteem issues.   The parents are also undergoing some tough times in supporting and helping him handle the situations. 

Thanks for the visit.

Monday, March 11, 2019

with a squeeze of lemon juice




as I turn the book

words leap, delicious as 
      sugar-spice
images and faces are luminous 
      as stars
i imagine pianos 
      playing   
away in winter-iced rooms 

sun is orange-rust flower
        peeling 
sky is shimmering river, glass 
        blued    
as i drink red wine spiked 
        with rum





Posted for dVerse Poets  - Quadrille hosted by De Jackson.   This is a 44 word post, with the word, SPIKE.   Thanks for your visit.

Thursday, March 7, 2019

a man asks for directions




he is seated across me
         in subway train

in white jacket and pants
         he is lost cat
standing out
in sea of black and grey winter outfits

the woman beside him
         puts away her phone
gestures animatedly
         where to go, what bus to take, etc

her hands are whirling dandelions
her face is a lighthouse

the man leans in, 
        listening intently, clarifying information
he is pleased with the conversation

so much so 
that he bows his head slightly
        smiling delightfully
as he slides out of subway doors
        elegantly as a swan

his hand is holding a corsage 
his face is first day of spring dance 




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit.

Tuesday, March 5, 2019

the silent hour


I failed to see the hour of the sunset
In silent room, where vase of marigold
promises spring & stories untold
Your hands are still, pickled by distress

In silent room, where vase of marigold
hides from fury & sorrow no one can address
Your hands are still now, pickled by distress
It is time to weep & fold

And hide this fury - this sorrow -no one can address 
I refrain from gathering stones, my chest is cold 
Is it time to weep & fold
Remembering the times of cheers & guesses

I refrain from gathering,  stones in my chest are cold
Numbed by promises of spring & stories untold
Remembering the times of cheers & guesses
I failed to see the hour of the sunset



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Lillian.  The poetic form is Pantoum.   Please give your constructive feedback as this is my first time to compose a poem in this form.  I am not sure if my last stanza is correct.


Inspired by Tuesday's poetics, Turn, turn, turn:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven:  a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. 




Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 American Standard Version (ASV)

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

catharsis



this poem is journey
     blaming (you)
     &
     blaming (me)

when our hearts are stones
      we river with sands, instead of fish 

when our hands are distant shores
      our words are indifferent, instead of warm with care

we forget that we are not mud-carved jars 
      that remain unshaken by storms & turmoils      

as waves rock back & forth
      we  crack, fall apart, feeling unbalanced  
      trying to swim in half-filled 
      or dry nothingness of land
     
then, think of us  
as pages, empty yet inviting
as flowers, blooming in sleep

      threading beads of happy & sad hours 
      & throwing any clumps of regrets
      to murder of crows

too late or not 
but as long as i'm walking
     
this poem is catharsis
      forgiving (you)
      & (hopefully)
      forgiving (me)

Monday, February 25, 2019

i offer no resistance




to mighty wind sweeping
rising tides & swirling snow flurries-
i offer globe of lilies

to black birds that disappeared
in shadows of bloomless shrubs-
i offer pockets of seeds

forecast reads:
sky of roaring lions, clouds of restless starlings-
i sip my chocolate





Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Mish.  Quadrille is 44 word post, with the chosen word, SIP.  Last night, we had a snow blowing advisory with Flurries and strong westerly winds with gusts of 70 to 100 km/h.

Thursday, February 21, 2019

(what music was this_train ride)




everyone else would mute 
     or numb their faces & bodies
     still as snow full moon
     while listening to music
     in their headphones

but not you
     you fold your arms 
     crosswise upon your chest
     thumping in synch with your heartbeat
     your fingers light as air

if only you could
     strip away your heavy
     drab 
     winter coat & boots
     & sing it
     sing   
     with butterfly wings



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Lillian.  Thanks for the visit. 

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

i am, my story



i was at war with 
myself & the world

i am here, 
not to provoke you
despite 
that i am not you
that my skin is dark rose
that my hair is thick as forest
that my tongue is quick as snake



i am here, because you have given
me compassion
       & priceless gifts 
that i can speak freely
that i can act and believe in my 
       faith and decisions
that i don't need to cover my face
       nor hair if I choose not to
that i don't need to step back 
       for someone else to go in 
       first
       favored


i am here, because you made me
see that sky is blue
       not charcoal in dust or gunpowder
see that streets are clean
       not mired in holes or littered by dead
       bodies, whose faces i knew
       whose lives i knew 
       whose nightmares I heard 
see my reflection upon the emerald lake
       underneath this scarred face & body
       ...a fire in my eyes 
       ...a sword my hands move  
                                                 to grasp


i am here.
thank you for a new 
beginning



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Privilege, hosted by Anmol (HA).   I admire my adopted country, Canada, for being in forefront of defending and advocating for women rights like the Yazidi women who survived ISIS and the Saudi teen escaping Saudi Arabia.


Thanks for the visit.