Zest for new journeys

zest for new journeys

begins with seeding each day,

a verse, joyful thoughts

a verse, joyful thoughts

spread white wings on morning coast,

ready for new day 

ready for new day,

sun, wind, stormy days, grey clouds,

fly the horizon

fly the horizon

with keen eyes and eager hands, 

zest for new journeys

Posted for Haiku Heights:    Zest - My prompt for this challenge.

This is Day 30 of the National Poetry Writing Month.   Thank you to all my blogger friends and new friends at Haiku Heights for the wonderful comments and smiles.   

Picture credit:    Reena of Missing Moments

Sunflower

                                                                                  © Mama Zen Photography

yellow blooms

golden, vibrant spring,

dotted muse

~0~0

sunflowers 

make me forget the 

bitter wind

~0~

rays of sun

caught by spider's silk,   

spiral gems      

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads :   Mama Zen Photography
and Haiku Heights:  Sunflower.    This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.

Clarity

serene lake

soothing weary eyes,

unturned page

~0~0

green eyed buds

lifting face to sky,

new spring day

~0~0

mountain air

calming ashen cheeks,

sunset view



Posted for Haiku Heights:   Clarity
shared with Haiku My Heart
This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.


Picture credit:  here

Temptation

beautiful petals

blooming bright as golden sun, 

i linger to hold

~0~0

field of sunflowers

waving banners and drum beats, 

i linger to dance

~0~0

the back of her knees,

creamy as white magnolias,

i linger to touch 

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Temptation


This is part of the National Writing Poetry Month


Picture credit:   here

Melody

guitar strings

missing in the street,

broken note   

~0~0

piano keys

untuned, grating nails,

empty room

~0~0

child's laughter,

concert melody,

sounds of joy

Haiku Heights:   Melody 


This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month


picture credit:   here

Kismet

to hold on

or let go to fly,

choice, not fate 

~0~0

last two leaves 

cling to branch, waiting  

howling wind   

~0~0

black or white,

kismet rolls the dice,  

ride the wave 

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Kismet


This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.


Picture credit:  here

Bliss

heads closer,

eyes closing in bliss,

simple joys 

~0~0

simple joys

sharing one journey,

a lifetime

~0~0

a lifetime

sunrise and sunset,   

move closer

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Bliss


This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.


Picture credit:   here

Blush of Pink

white and pink petals

painting the sky in spring's blush,  

mesmerizing view

~0~0

verdant field

pink and white blossoms,  

new clothes:   spring

~0~0

your pink hands

dainty as a rose,

steals my heart

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Mesmerize

And One Single Impression:   Verdant

This is part of the National Writing Poetry Month.

Picture credit:   Reena from Missing Moments 

The obligation to have none

My daughter smiles
Her braces, with green and violet bands,
Remind me of my obligations 


My all-weather-car tires  
As I accelerate in my grocery run 
Remind me of my payments


My room of clothes, unpacked
My sink of dishes, unwashed
My tax papers, unfiled 


Awaiting duties and obligations, 
All crowd me to a zombie, half alive,   
Between pay days and installments


My son comes to me with a hot tea,
He is leaving soon to see his client,  
Another one needing his clear eyes and calm hands


He has found his answer while
Sleeping on the wooden floor, 
Rejecting urban myth for eastern thoughts;  


Completeness of self, not fullness of trivialities 


A simple life        



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics: Duty call

My son, upon graduating with a chemical engineering in college, decided he wanted to pursue a new career, a whole new life style.   He rejected the university route to get his license and a large student loan, to work at restaurants and health store to pursue Yoga Training.    He is also a vegetarian and lives a minimalist life.  This happened in the last year.   

Still

still as wind,

tree murmurs softly,

last heartbeat

~0~0

he takes the clean brush

painting canvas full of life,

art, still his first love

~0~0

her black eyes

stilled his hopes for love,

white blossoms wilted

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Still
This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month

picture credit:  In Tandem by Jinksy

Serendipity

serendipity

is finding your old bike works,  

when your car breaks down

~0~0

regard your blessings

like smooth pearls of the necklace,

luck is in your hands   

~0~0

silver coins,

fruits of hard labor,

blessed day

Someone receives a promotion, gets an important assignment, makes a major discovery, or moves into the president's office. ''He's lucky,'' an envious person remarks. ''He gets the breaks; they're always in his favor.'' In reality, luck or the breaks of life had little or nothing to do with it. So-called ''luck'' usually is found at the exact point where preparation meets opportunity. For a time, an individual may get ahead by ''pull,'' but eventually someone with push will displace him. Success is not due to a fortuitous concourse of stars at our birth, but to a steady trail of sparks from the grindstone of hard work each day. Kenneth Hildebrand

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Serendipity  
and Haiku My Heart

Picture credit:  here

Woman's Face

mother's face

always beautiful,

to child's eyes 

~0~0

daughter's face,

promise of woman,

father's fears

~0~0

a woman in love, 

no alterations needed,

fresh as a daisy

"Men look at themselves in mirrors.  Women look for themselves. " ~Elissa Melamed


Posted for Poetry Jam:   Face The Facts
and Haiku Heights:   Renovation


Quote soure

Picture source

Piano Festival

It was held in the 19^th century church in the upscale neighborhood. A medium sized church with a black grand piano up the small stage, was the center piece of the festival.   When we first signed up for this competition, I imagined a more festive atmosphere, not the somber and stiff columns at the sides of the church.   The ominous mood silenced the gay chatter of young children and teens testing their piano skills in the competition.

A charming lady adjudicator smoothly presided over  each one hour session for 10 candidates.   This is my 13 year old daughter 3^rd piano recital, and she calmly sits in the front pew, the 9^th    candidate in the Grade 3 skill level.    She has grown over the last months, and  she towers amongst the candidates, specially boys still in their pre-teen stage.   She has practiced, like all the children, the same piece for the last month or two, under the eye of her piano teacher.

The first boy was called to play, and he was impressive and confident from the initial strains of the piece.   My daughter would later tell me, she knew her chance of winning the first spot was not so good compared to the first boy.  He has set the bar very high.

The second boy was called to play, and unlike the other candidates, he held on to his music book.   He adjusted his thick rimmed glasses, and within the next seconds, we knew he was struggling with the piece.   But he never glanced at the audience composed only of parents and or guardians.   He labored with each key, as one would every tortured breath, going back a few notes if he missed it, slowly and painstakingly until he finished the piece.   No one said anything and I noticed the adjudicator not taking notes as she would normally as she gives a detailed critique at the end of the session.   She was listening, as was everyone, to every note like it was an angel playing to the golden crowns of the saints and wooden cross in the altar.

What took the 2^nd boy so long to play, the third candidate finished the piece in no time.  So did all the other candidates as was expected in this festival.   Smooth and perfect notes.    At least from the audience point of view.  If we could, we would probably give a gold medal for all the children, specially the 2nd boy, for getting up there and completing the piece. 

My daughter’s performance was good but not good enough to win any medals.  Nothing like a contest to spur her competitive spirit and hunger for recognition outside the family.   She would get 2^nd place the week after for another round of competition, but not this time.   We always tell her to do her best, and leave it to her to set her level and pace.     


We just want her to have a good time with the festival. I don't lecture to her on what she needs to do.   She saw the tremendous effort displayed by the 2nd boy, a special child.    No pressure, no monetary reward from us.    Except for fish and chips meal after the festival.

Written for Imperfect Prose.   This is my first time to join you ~   Nice to meet you ~

Honeybees

pink and white blossoms

turn into almonds by bees,

nature's gardener

~0~0

yellow honeybees
spreading joy in almond trees,

busy gardener

An estimated 1.3 million honey bee colonies nestled in almond orchards are primed to pollinate an estimated 740,000-plus acres of bearing tree blooms. It is an annual rite and picturesque sight in California agriculture and a major precursor to the success or failure of the almond crop.

The demand for honey bee colonies is larger than ever before. Bees are necessary to pollinate almond blossoms, and other crops including blueberries, cherries, and alfalfa seed. Bearing almond acreage in California has increased from 510,000 acres a decade ago to the current 740,000 acre level.

http://westernfarmpress.com/tree-nuts/bee-health-ongoing-almond-grower-beekeeper-challenge

Posted for Haiku Heights:   honeybees

This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.
picture credit:   here

White

white long dress

soft floral bouquet,

rice seedlings

~0~0

ashen face

white fear on her eyes,

loud siren

~0~0

white pages

inviting words, thoughts,

busy pen

Posted for Haiku Heights:   White


This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month


picture credit:   here

Wonder

calm water

anchored boat awaits,

new journey

~0~0

sun slowly rising

spraying colours in canvas,

wonder of new day

~0~0

child's laughter

ringing in hallway,

bell of joy

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Wonder

This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.

Picture credit:   Reena of Missing Moments

Being alive

our eyes

seek a piece of sun,

open panes

~0~0

our ears,

thrill to stormy winds,

open arms  

~0~0

our lips 

hunger for sea salt,
 open sky  

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Being :  Poetry form 3-5-3 syllables

And Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   Photography by Susie Clevenger

On life's blessings

each morning, 

I count my blessings:

sun, wind, night 

~0~0

ink from my black pen

rise like bubbles in my wine,

spicy tale of life       

~0~0

words cut out from page,

foam with salty bitterness,

birthing a novel

 ~0~0

each evening,

I count my blessings:

moon, stars,day

Posted for Haiku Heights  :   Alive

and Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:    Effervescence 

Poetry form:   3-5-3 and 5-7-5 syllables

Aura

light halo

monk's face in prayer,

plum blooms fall

~0~0

aura of darkness

circles well in the desert,

vulture picks on bones

~0~0

spark of light

positive thoughts, seeds

bloom to sky

Posted for Haiku heights:   Aura

Haibun: Empty

She works in the far end cubicle away from laughter and noise.   

Lips pinched tight, arms crossed, she eats her lunch, 

either sandwich or beef patty, on her desk.      

She is cool to friendly gestures.  

No spontaneous embracing.  No hand contact either.   

Specially from men.   

~0~0

warmth of smile fading 

remembering hurtful words,

empty wooden box   

posted for Haiku Heights:   Warmth
and Flash Friday Fiction for G-man:   tell a story in 55 words.




Poetry form:   Haibun - combines the prose and haiku. 

Coherent

coherent thoughts rise

amidst spiralled rock garden,

gentle hush of leaves 

~0~0

broken lips

incoherent words,

grey luggage

~0~0

pen and paper lines 

black granite and white pebbles,
 zen inspired design 

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Coherent

This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month

Picture credit:    here

Possible

bulbs of spring

planted in winter, 

vase of blooms

~0~0

thirteen pink candles

endless possibilities,

graduation gown

~0~0

phrases, words,

painting floral verse,

book cover

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Possible
This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.


picture credit:    Jinksy of In Tandem 

Summer

morning paints 

garden of tulips,

summer blooms

~0~0

bright tulips

dot fields of summer,

ice cream pops  

~0~0

yellow umbrella

seashore with noisy seagulls,

summer concierto 

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Summer


This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month


Picture credit:   Margaret Bednar

Seashore

conch shell on the shore

awaits waves from the ocean,

fishnets from boat falls  

~0~0

stones and shells

fill the crystal vase,  

empty shore

Posted for Haiku Heights:    Prompt is Seashore

This is part of National Poetry Writing Month.

Play

sounds of spring,

children playing ball,

blue jay chirps

~0~0

playing in the streets,

boys run with nets, chasing birds,

free as butterflies

~0~0

slave of war and hate,

he holds his gun close, dreaming

blue butterfly wings

Posted for Haiku Heights - Play.    This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.  

Picture credit:   here

Forgive

turn a cheek

forgiving others,

bright lighthouse

~0~0

healing comes

forgiving ourselves,

open hands 

~0~0

He forgives

indifferent hearts,

gold sunrise

Posted for Haiku Heights - Forgive.   This is part of the National Poetry Writing Month.  I used the 3-5-3 syllabic count.

Picture credit:   here

Planting rice

The water buffalo ambles beside her   

On rice fields, submerged with water

The sun burns her face lined with serenity

And arms more golden than corn ears

The paddies, she seeds with hands

Before sun rises until sunset mutes the land  

Child of the farm, daughter of the harvest,

She holds the seedlings, grains from sands

Her mother tells her she is blessed silk

By Gods, her skin neither pale like goat’s milk,

Nor dark like burnt mud sticking her soles; 
but brown, soft earth her hands sink into, her ilk

Nurture the seedlings to grow, filling bowls

Of family, whole community, including fowls,

Uniting her tribe with motherland, serenity

And prosperity, she plants rice, her soul

Posted for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Oral Tradition - The planting and harvesting of rice are part of my cultural heritage.  So many tales have been told and I have shared partly a verse about it.  

and D'verse Poets Pub:  Rubaiyat Quartrains - I just learned about this form this afternoon.   Let me know how I can improve this.   

Poetry form:  An Interlocking Rubáiyát is a Persian form where the subsequent stanza rhymes its 1st, 2nd, and 4th lines with the sound at the end of the 3rd line in the stanza (Rubá’íyah) before it. In this form, the 3rd line of the final stanza is also rhymed with the 3 rhymed lines in the first stanza. There is no maximum length but the minimum is three stanzas.

picture source:  here

Hope

hope is hand

holding flower, blown

careless wind 

~0~0

hope is pink seashell 

empty bed of gleaming pearls,

arms open to sea   

~0~0

my hands in prayer,
his last dying breath, grieving
I light a candle

Posted for Haiku Heights - Hope.   This is part of National Poetry Writing Month - Day 6.
Linked with Haiku My Heart  and Theme Thursday 

picture credit:    here