Thursday, December 13, 2018

Night Sky



Night sky, shimmer your mirrors of light
Streak our path with meteor showers
Quarter moon is rising, silver knight

Crossing above winter's storm, so white
We hunt for arrows and spears of Gods
Night sky, shimmer your mirrors of light

We bring coins to buskers, ink to poets
We offer good tidings for a glimpse of heaven
Look, quarter moon is rising, silver knight

Heralding dancing shadows, colorful sight
We open our palms to catch bluish of circles
Night sky, shimmer your mirrors of light

Soon darkness with the longest hours 
Will come, drawing strings of new season
Quarter moon is rising, silver knight

We dream of spring tulips and sunflowers
But tonight, you're fullness, glorious tower
Night sky, shimmer your mirrors of light
Quarter moon is rising, silver knight


Posted for dVerse Open Link Night -  Thank you for your wonderful support and comments!!!   We are taking a break for 2 weeks.  Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!!

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

melting snowflakes




Winter turns me into a grouch
Keeping words & sweets to myself

I scribble quickly on used paper
As if each letter holds a secret 🔑

The garden outside is a dull statue
As if a thief has stolen all the blooms

As if a baker has thrown all the flour
On table, forgetting measuring cups & left

In a huff, leaving the nuts
to squirrels and nothing for the birds 🐦

Not even his secrets
Was it fresh cinnamon stick or extra lemon 

Zest & twist
That made these sweets tinglinG butterY 

Warm on my hands... 
Melting snowflakes, drawing  😁   ðŸ˜‰   ðŸ˜¤    😍    💗    💋




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Amaya on the theme of Secret Ingredient (examples are food or poetry form).   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, November 29, 2018

Five seasons of fire


I.

This fire is a cold
seed, buried deep 
in field, breathing death  
& scent of water-
lilies

II.

This fire is red
deer, wallowing in dust
running free on forest 
roaring to wind's end-
less chants

III.

This fire is confetti
elusive, beyond my     grasp
bursting around,      above me-
star in the sky

IV.

This fire is crawling
all over walls & floors
I can't stop it
  eXplOdiNgGGGg, .....    .


V.

This fire is burning
-tongue on tongue-
-skin on skin- 
you, erasing darkness



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Mish.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, November 26, 2018

Waiting




We wait eagerly for Friday night to arrive and settle as an old familiar book in our hands.  Weekends are for staying home and playing with our first grandson, on Sunday afternoons.  With our work, time is taskmaster juggling all our commitments.   So it is relaxing to finally kick back and get into a slower pace of chores.   With the Christmas season in the air, we are eager children counting the days of Christmas Eve.   

Last week, we saw a flock of white geese flying away, to what we assumed would be a warmer climate.   The winter season has clouded our sky with gloomy grey and whitened the garden with icy stillness.   Maple trees are bare of leaves and we can't wait for spring to breeze in with all its bird songs and flaming hues.  


brown leaves raked away- 
i spy bright moon's unveiling
above misty windows-


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday with the theme of Waiting, with guest blogger, Imelda.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  

Thursday, November 22, 2018

Wildfires


I. 

Sudden lightning -  storm - fire
Breaks out, lashing jagged edge of fear
My thoughts froze, my emotions on spire
I ran for safety, finding relief & cheer
Though all my stuff are gone, trivial and dear   

II.

He never complained - not of aches
Not of dreadful thoughts that steals breath
He worked, saving homes, forests, lakes,
Creatures being devoured by death -
Dark was day, night was hell, no breaks -


*A tribute to all the brave fire fighters everywhere.  Happy Thanksgiving to our USA friends.


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Form is Quintain, 5 lines.   I will be introducing the English quintain and Spanish quintain.  

The first poem is an English Quintain:   

The rhyme scheme for English quintains is usually A-B-A-B-B.  There is no set measure or foot (the number and type of syllables or feet).

The second poem is a Spanish quintain or quintilla.  The Quintilla is a 16th century Spanish Quintain form of eight syllable (Iambic Tetrameter) lines. The rhyming scheme can vary in presentation, but only two consecutive lines may have the same rhyme pattern.  I have used A-B-A-B- A.


Thursday, November 15, 2018

Winter's first kiss



You arrive - first dance -
Shower of crystals - magical -
Yet, a kiss of death 
On fallen leaves, yellowed frail
Throats of birds are silent - black -


~0~0~


The sky keeps greying
Over your relentless crossing-
Make my words a flint
Hungry for air and roses 
Longing for lips petalled by rain




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Frank Hubeny.   Join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Through the lens of grandparents



my fingers trace fluffy clouds
on blankets for furry warmth
the bed sheets are milky fresh
washed with hypoallergenic soap
per instructions of your parents
who are out on a much needed movie date

i put you to sleep on bed
your thighs are sandy rough 
a reaction by your very sensitive skin
(a phase, we are assured, that you will pass)
your body, soft pillow
of all our remembered youthful times 
at 4 months old
you kick your legs vigorously
testing strength against cocoon of blanket
your face easily reds
from scratching the dry skin

it does not matter to us
your innocent eyes & smile are
the light from the stars
the magic of our summer days  



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Touch Me, Poetics, Hosted by Sarah Connor.  Join us when the pub doors is open for writing and reading at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Postscript



thank you

for showing me your vulnerability
i too, am frail mustard
leaf swept by cold wind, gnarled

by doubts and scarfed by guilt 
many a night
i too, am needled reed
bent by unanswered prayers
and clumsiness of legs

you remind me to
summon the courage left behind
what has faded, tarnished, passed 
is over 

i can finally accept what is
weary, tedious, ordinary looking, everyday
me
with a cup of bubbling chocolate

thank you



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg on Metaphors.  Join us when the pub doors open by 3pm EST for some poetry writing and reading.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Utopias for Two




The alarm is mute, empty of desire
So are my commute card, cellphone, lunch bag 
I gather all my hours & go outside 
To inhale summer's scent & sky  
Sun waits  
As I meander at leisure pace
Filling the jar with shells, cones, petals, pebbles
I am book to be lettered
I am map to be discovered 
Carrying time in my pocket
Light as dove
Into the dusk light, I continue my search 



~0~0~                              ~0~0~                          



My shoes are bruised walking
this long road in this caravan of heat & hunger
The sweat and cries of other people
are nightmares tossed in stale bread 
I dream of grass under my feet
And sitting serenely on a patio of an ordinary day 
Not hanging on for dear life, on dingy boat with holes
Not listening to gunfire and threats of violence
Is it too much to ask
Not to see skeletons, stench of burning city for 1 day?
Is it too much to ask 
For a small garden to plant seeds & roots ? 




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Utopia, hosted by Amaya.  Because our perspective of one is different.   The second one is from the point of view of those migrants travelling in the caravan towards Mexico and USA.

Monday, November 5, 2018

threshold



Her words didn't shiver  
                 nor wink at slightest 
                                       provocation    
They are stones  
                 hardened from broken
                                               light
                                     
Until one day 
                her lips tasted blood, salt,     
                                                      madness
Goading her                                                   
                 - let the words fly -
                                               free of guises 
She leaps 

                where fate fluted   
                                            in rubble yellowing with  
                                                                               leaves  
                        



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by De Jackson.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, WINK.   Thanks for your visit.

Thursday, November 1, 2018

This land



Once upon a land, the sun dawns bright day
over rolling valleys of green, forests
of Douglas fir, spruce, pine, aspen, balsam 
blanket fields and mountains carved by glaciers

Once upon a land, sky is never ending 

over long shadows of fir, larch, pine trees
wild creatures graze and roam, untamed but for 
wind roaring the birth cries, chanting dead songs  

Once upon a land, the full pearled moon  

shimmers over the alpine lake, milk-blue sheen
We will stay here, bedding, forging new paths
We will die here, marking our scents & tales










Bison herd was reintroduced in Alberta, Canada in Feb. 1, 2018.  Since then Banff's bison herd has been growing, thriving as it explores new range, Parks Canada says.  All 10 expectant mothers successfully gave birth in Banff’s backcountry; bring the total number to 34.  Source.

Posted for dVerse poets - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Kim Russell.   

Monday, October 29, 2018

threads of autumn


I look at the faces of my high school friends, and theirs mirror mine.  Faces delicately stamped by passing time.   Hands creased by toil, care and chores.  The fabric of our stories have become heavier and darker with increasingly sad stories of deaths, poor health, family and personal struggles.  I have migrated abroad in another country along with some friends, while some have lived in the same city.   Though our travels have taken us to different places since graduation, we have now arrived at the same spot - more tolerant, kinder and compassionate to each other.   Where disagreements and jealousy gnawed at our friendship, we now provide help, support and celebrate each other's journey.   Viewed within our group's narrative, I count each thread, weave, tug and pull with gratitude. Whatever change is coming my way, I can rely on this group of ladies to see me through.

   
wind builds a bed 
of fallen leaves with sun's luster-
sky brims - autumn's rust-





Autumn by Everyday Amazing 


Posted for dVerse Poets  - Haibun Monday - Transitions, hosted by guest Merril Smith.  Please visit us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Snapshots



he huddles under forlorn blankets
beside post, his belongings boxed,
all stillness
but for his cap begging for alms

                       winter is coming

she hears the aches in her bones,
wails of distress in her room
she pens a note:   
travel & listen to bird songs 

                       winter is coming

subway platform picks up haunting
strains of the saxophone, evoking music
of yesterdays, crumbling 
in sweet notes  

                      winter is coming

autumn leaves are dotted white
as trees shed their flaming colors-
my album of photos show, not grief
but tranquility   

                     winter is coming



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting The Bar - Repetition, hosted by Jilly.
Thanks for the visit.  

Monday, October 22, 2018

of what glitters at night



October glitters of roads 
dusty
Of fallen maple leaves
yellow
as  roasted plump pumpkin 
brown
as burnt paprika and sugared
cinnamon

Days fold quickly into heavy
silence
I tend to my secret
sorrows
Brushing them with moon-
light  
They gleam ... an early first snow-
drop



Grace@Everyday Amazing


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Kim Russell.   This is a 44 word post with the chosen word - EARLY.  See you when the pub doors open at 3pm.  Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, October 18, 2018

Late autumn



The northern wind whips autumn trees to fray
Under clouds of grey, plum maple leaves stray
Strands of willow, brambles of berries roil
Faded petals - all pressed smooth in rich soil

A leavening, softening cold canvas
Of bare gardens, draped in dew-glazed sadness
I sleep buried under warm blankets, fluffy
Clasping handful of seeds, golden honey 




Grace@Everyday Amazing


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub -  OpenLinkNight - Hosted by yours truly.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thanks for your visi

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

flawed designs


you saunter out 
                     of my depressive mind,
deformed idea
                     muddled in nest of cobwebs
your claws growing 
                       from seed, searching
for warmth
                     or for shaft of light
I hide you from 
                          sunshine and moon- 
eyes of strangers  
                        how could anyone 
assemble you like I do   
                                         
you, tarnished with flaws 
                     of all my failed designs   

yet beholding you, 
                              i collect 

every exhale 
                          of red-veined maple leaf
every scar 
                        of rippling river tide
every wings 
                          of promising butterflies
every verse   
                        unsaddled by violent wind 
                                                                 falling 







Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Beauty in Ugliness, hosted by Mish.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

True colors



He tarried, asking for time and one more
Chance, as if sorrow was not his whim
True, women are his weakness, keeping score
His true colors bared - she can't forgive him 


Outside, leaves of maple trees, birch, aspen
Turn to brilliant autumn tints, fanning awe
Sun muscles its way from grey, red jasmine
Her hopes - forgive herself, sharpen her claws






Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar, with Frank Hubeny.   We are writing iambic pentameter.  Pub doors open at 3pm EST.   

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Growing into my name



My name came from a dead language 
Echoing a young mother's prayerful hopes 
For the eldest child to be favored by Almighty One
She, who defied her family's wish for marriage
Lit candles, knelt in the pews, beaded her tears to dusk-   

She called me by my second name
And I grew into it 
With a gentle sponge, sloughing off my rough edges
And as years passed, shaping my arms to paddles
My feet, into round hulls of boat 
My father gave me the wind sails  
I crossed oceans, learning to navigate sea of sorrows 

Though I tested boundaries of the reversed name - disgrace - 
I never got sucked and stuck in the pit 
Through all my journeys, my mother's devotions    
were constant as a lighthouse-

I sank into my skin
In all its wrinkles, wounds and flints
And as autumn leaves churn colors
so bright and dazzling, with every breath
a beating of sun's fire
a roar of wind's tempest

A grace of acceptance of this life's journey:
Gratitude







Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:  What's In A Name, hosted by Amaya.  Please join us for an interesting challenge.  Here is a bit of information of my name:



ORIGIN:
HEBREW  /  LATIN 
NAME ROOT:
(MIRIAM) (GRĀTĬA)
NATIVE NAME ROOT:
MARYÂM / MIRYÂM (מרים)
MEANING: 
This is a combination (composed, blended name) of Mary and Grace. It is of Hebrew and Latin origin and comes from the following roots: (MIRIAM) and (GRĀTĬA).
Miriam:  sea of bitterness or sea of sorrow
Grace:  gratia (favor, thanks, good will)

Thursday, October 4, 2018

October




October opens its sorrows
to black birds and thick coarse
hands praying rosary 
beads

October spreads its wings
mildew gray as morning clouds,
churning reams of sunshine 
cold

October pulls the curtains down
velvet over fallen autumn leaves-
russets, deep reds as beating
heart



Posted for dVerse poets pub - OpenLinkNight.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thanks for your visit.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Chicken soup for autumn



The smells come for me

when I feel low, let down
when I am missing home, coming 
                                                  home

heat wafts my nose, slices 
my belly with steaming chicken 
soup, tickling my insides 
with spices & shrimp dumplings

my heart pumps 
                         sunshine, sticky as sugar
painting all over the house 
                         comfort, sewn by happy memories 

I am snugly warm
watching the      leaves   
                                   leap 




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Poetics - Comfort Smells by guest Gina of Singledust.
Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, October 1, 2018

Murmurs in the crowd



I move with the crowd, stepping forward, stepping back, as if in a familiar dance. My facial expression is reflected in the faces all around me.  My hands are curled in, protecting my space, so thin it is an invisible distance.   Am I unique and special?  Against the sea of humanity of every skin and hair color, I am but a speck, perhaps a leaf falling unnoticed to the pavement.  Commuting does this to you - a perspective of the other's heartbeat, a bigger world.

On the upside, there is comfort in the shared journey, even for a short period of time.  Wherever we came from, and where we are heading to, here is a communal space - a base of touchdown,  a point of reference.  There is safety in numbers, as if it is a validation that I am going to the right direction.  Even the clothes  and shoes I am wearing is validated by the crowd of commuters.   We are all mirrors of each other, glazed by city dust.

Outside the train, the windows tell a story of our changing seasons.   The maple trees have turned to pumpkin yellow, mellow orange and brown hues. Grey clouds and mist hover most of our mornings.   A chill nips the air and the geese have taken flight to warmer shores.    We huddle in our seats- coats, sweaters, boots- waiting for the doors to chime, opening to another flood of faces.   


murder of crows 
on power lines and street lamps-
sunset recedes, falling leaf-





Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Haibun Monday:   Murmuration with guest host Qbit/Randall.  Theme:  One's self, En-Masse.  Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, September 24, 2018

autumn's sky



you crease the sky
into periwinkle cornflower

hold the raindrops & dew
scent of apples & pumpkins

into pot of autumn amber,
soup for my cold feet

harbor me here, until
my wings grow steady,

glinting bold black with orange streaks  
winking under sun




Wild Sunflowers, Everyday Amazing

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word, Harbor.  Hosted by Lillian Hallberg.  Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, September 20, 2018

Farewell to summer



End of summer strips the colors from 
         crumpled petals, 
         headless shrubs, 
         fallen goose feathers 

I won't tear
over your leaving-

         You'll settle, 
a bookmarked page- 
itching my nostrils with tulips, 
and bluebells chimed by rain  

Burning heat will soon give way to shredding
of trees, decaying of leaves, ripening of fruits

           I swell with gladness, better now
in understanding the degrees 
                              of seasonal changes-  
spearing my sadness at bay-   

The sun always spill
            your laughter 
            over darkening garden
                                with decisive strokes
            over coming winter slopes
                                with luminous stillness

and over my words
           streaking your wild yellow
           seeds
           


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, Hosted by Mish.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, September 13, 2018

a note to myself



of what good this is, if you don't take chances
put yourself out there- you are more than 
quintessential frame, your quirky quotes
resound the room with your sass and humor
splash your face with autumn's vibrant hues-
this day, you step away from shadows








Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Alphabet Sestet, hosted by Lillian Hallberg.  This poetry form is a sestet, 6 lines, whereby the first letter of each line, follows a sequence of an alphabet.  Any alphabetical sequence may be used: writer’s choice! Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.  Thanks for the visit.


Monday, September 10, 2018

Autumn gardening



we trim rose bushes,
yellow perennials
cutting quickly heads & half-
bitten leaves

into paper bags we weigh
down branches, fallen petals
pressing all the lungs of summer
into one silent book

(autumnal inhale)
we divide the sun
light
leaving the wind to pocket
seeds




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

Thursday, September 6, 2018

(i) click




my eyes dream of tea cups
with cranberry spice,
goji berries and red dates

as subway train zips and thuds
with familiarity along
wheels, bumps, skids, tracks

city stations are chimes of bells
as tunnel doors click, clack
and announcements reel, pause

no more do i fret, shudder
or tarry but sleep through all the
chatter and clutter of train commute

outside, the sun sets off
in raspberry and orange hues
our daily departures, green-timed

by swiping of shiny cards
cocooned in our pockets-
{silence yawns...stretches 2 secs} 

boom !!!!  blast of sounds zoom in,     i   
walk outside the station
where raindrops are murmuring 
                                                      {shush}
                       


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Playing with sounds - Onomatopoeia
Thanks for the visit.            Picture credit:   Here



Monday, September 3, 2018

Morning walks



Morning weaves rumpled threads of grey and blue across the sky.  Clouds are clumps of cotton and velvet, stiching sunlight in muted hues.  I inhale the fresh tang of dew and pine needles.   My shoes crunch the pebbles as I begin the descent to the creek and small bridge.  The maple leaves have started to fray on the edges and some trees are showing tints of orange char.   I spotted browning leaves on the grass, the first of many in autumn's slow waltz with the wind.   


two brown geese forage 
on shallow tides, ribbed by wild
flowers yellowed  - summer -   



Sunflowers, Jerusalem Artichoke 


Posted for dVerse Poets - Haibun Monday - Morning hosted by Mish.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, August 27, 2018

this land of mine



you leave your bricks

abandoned, things rusted under sun


i'll rise and trample them 

with wildgrass and earthworms


i'll cover their metallic teeth, 

and venyl skin, until nothing is seen


but my green arms and seeds, housing 

birds and creatures, who'll call this - 


home



Credit:  here


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, Hosted by Kim Russell - 44 word post, with the chosen word, Earth.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

Prism



your sky is lavender 
and curlicue of colors
         rose auburn, dark pink, teal
threading through tapestry
of rye knots and countless loops

you think of raspberry 
                                  thoughts
on a long solitary flight
you smell sour apples in
                                  unfinished songs

taste stings of wasp and exotic spices 
           in warblings of guitar hymms
                  
as you dab your vision on canvas
your skin is luminous
growing light between layers
of  unsaturated darkness, 
                                        shades
you never settle 
                          in






Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Share a poem and visit at the poetry pub.  Doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.