Monday, August 27, 2012

Shadorma poems

                                                                "Bougainvillean Dreams"

you hold me
pale as crushed petals
paper dry
fading, but   
on pink bed of your soft hands, 
my dreams bloom, bold red



tiny leaf 
awakens, pulsing, 
growing faith
face to the sun, shoulders straight, 
  an oak tree rises 


"Bee in a Bottlebrush"

Drink from me
deep to my marrow
where the seeds
flaming red
scatter the fragrance and tears  
of a wounded heart

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:  OpenLinkNight - Monday
and D'verse Poets Pub:  OpenLinkNight - Tuesday
Poetry Form:  Shadorma

The Shadorma is:
1. a hexastich, a poem in 6 lines
2. syllabic, 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllables per line.
3. unrhymed.

Photography credit:   Jamie Clark

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Doubts of black and white

                                                      Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth

i remembered how you were last summer,
green skirt hued with red plump strawberries,
your brown eyes like wine, full of promise   

in this big room, the clock had ticked slowly
like waltz on fire-wood, slow burning, clinging,
rattling the stoic windows into river storm  

we thought we are special breed, 
black and white pods against the world, 
above the bust and din of prying eyes,
prickling our skin with doubts, until our candles waned

dying slowly in this airless room,   
sepia-washed, strained of seeds and flesh 
i burn your words in the urn, black as
dry leaves gather, waiting for the winter wind

Posted for the The Mag:  132

Friday, August 24, 2012

World of ice

Photography credit:   Reena of Missing Moments
Alaska Glacier

remote land,
mountain bell of snow, 
strikes awe and fear


small footprints 
on ancient ice rocks,  
sun-streaked monk   


drumming song
stirring north ghost-sky, 
native cries

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Wishing tree

Photography Credit:   Ella's Edge

This is where our wishes grow 
One leaf at a time, evergreen and bold   
Slowly unfurling its golden flecks to the sun 

This is where our dreams flourish 
One wing at a time, crimson and daring
Stretching wide as the blue summer sky

This is where our words ripen 
One season at a time, pungent with seeds
Blossoming yellow and russet in autumn wind   

This is where our hopes dance  
One footstep at a time, swirling to music   
Awakening fire in weary limbs and cold feet

This is where our eyes pause at night  
Giving grace to imperfect days,  
Accepting storms of life, cherishing simple joys  

This is where our wishes grow 
One leaf at a time, evergreen and bold   
Slowly unfurling its golden flecks to the sun 

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   Ella's Edge
and Poetry Jam - Genre - Literature/Fantasy

Monday, August 20, 2012

Boat graveyard

Photography Credit:   Reena of Missing Moments

rusty boat  
bows down in silence,
dying fire


nestled in green field,
old brown boat heaves one last sigh:


boat graveyard,
filled with jade gold leaves,  
quiet sea

Posted for:   Haiku Heights:   Green - Just got back from a short vacation, so catching up with all of you ~
and Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   OpenLinkNight

Friday, August 10, 2012


fallen leaf 
whispers to the wind: 
i am free


white lilies
blooming by gravestone,
scent of you


guitar strings softly  
 echo her soulful verses,     
 bluer than the sky  

picture credit:   Photorack

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The long weekend

                                                       Lakeshore @Everyday Amazing

boats on the moorings,
white and weaving on afternoon lake

while geese and graceful swans
swim lazily on shorelines carved with stones

on this day, families bike and walk around,
some with picnic baskets and colorful mats to embrace the sun  

young children and teens are running in the field
while elders and women gossip under shaded trees

beyond the lake, the city skyline glitters  
but it looks so faraway, as eager feet soak the water

we recall beach holidays and weekend gatherings,
places we like to visit still, as we snap pictures of the day         

like the gulls and geese, the children will soon fly away 
from the nest, eager to spread their wings

but for now, we are stitching these images:   
summer sun, ebb and flow of the tide, cool breeze  

we anchor our feet to what matters the most :  
the gift of family  

Posted for Poetry Jam:  What Do I Value Most - My daughter took this picture of our lake over the long weekend.  Also for Theme Thursday:  Recollections

Saturday, August 4, 2012


© Teresa ~ Razzamadazzle

fading sun was harsh on his eyes 
like flint stones on weary bones, 
searing pain which pills couldn't ease anymore

years of heavy smoking and rich eating
have finally caught up with him, 
toxic waste on breath, darkening shadows

he had called up everyone he knew 
that week, talking at length and joking as if
on a party, masking fear under crinkled eyes 

he  asked for all of his sons to visit him,
without any explanation, and my hubby said,
he was busy at work, maybe some other time 

of course, no one knew that
the next day, after lunch, that it was his last 
unexpectedly embracing death in one beat 

until this day, 24 years later, his last request
still rankles at my hubby's heart,
like a thorn deep and fresh, unfading memory of the sun  

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:   History - A look back on the last days of my father-in-law.  and Real Toads:   Teresa Phogography

Friday, August 3, 2012

Starry night

star-lit sky,
guitar serenade,
shy rose blooms


falling star
on coconut palms,
spell-bound song 


bowl of fruits -
star apples, mangoes - 
welcome leis


demure maid
with lavender rose,
a starburst 


countless stars
can't match your brown eyes,  
 shining yes!  

Note:  The old tradition of Philippine courtship is called harana.  It involves singing to woo the woman at night, and if she likes you, she opens her window and invites you inside her home.

picture and note credit:  here