Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Scents of childhood

Sap of sugar cane
Freshly cut, sun-warm

White coated cookies
crunchy with each bite

Rice cakes stirred brown with
molasses, sticky treat

Purple yam, yoked with milk
drizzled with young coconut

Goat cheese on fresh buns,
fried bananas on bamboo stick

Guavas and star apples,
cooling the afternoon heat

But always, smell of sugar
piping tropical air

Brings me back, running small
under banana trees

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Empire of Scents -  This is our last Poetics before we take our summer break from July 1-17, 2016.    
See you all when the pub opens again on July 18!!  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, June 27, 2016

Pinwheel of summer wishes

Photo credit:   here

Southern wind, cotton fluffs, saffron-stained sky
Dab our tongues with rain, sweet as sugar buns
Our skin is dry, steeped with orange dust
Southern wind, cotton fluffs, saffron-stained sky
Color these eyes without rose thorns by sun
Come, cool our brows, rivers by dusk

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille, a 44 word post with the word ROSE.   Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Summer day/ /mirage

The roses are flaring their skirts like bells
Red and pink, as sun strikes a heated spell 

                                          city park overflows-

Air is humid, our throats thirst for rain
Are hummingbirds near, our ears we strained

                                          bikers, dogs, kites so low-

Here comes the bees flickering golden wings
In a dance or trance, they busily swing

                                          we bask in music show

Bloom to bloom, sated with nectar and dew
Sky spills ribbons -  feverish hue of blue 

                                          as lake sheens to & fro-

Lake, Ontario, Canada 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Join us for our last OpenLinkNight before we go on a two week summer break (July 1-17).   Trying my hand in meter from the prompt of Victoria and also for Walt's Summer Starter.   The doors open at 3pm EST.    

Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, June 20, 2016

Uro 尿

She was shocked to receive the news that her ex-husband died.    It must be the length of time since they last talked, more than 15 years ago, and the bitterness of their parting words.   The voices, she remembered,  were harsh coming from his family and friends who were shocked at her decision to leave the home with their 3 young children.  Tears, frozen from fear and regret, had gushed out, hot and furious.    Now, she listens for echoes, ripples and undercurrents of  her emotions.   There is rain and dewdrops.   And the calm steady beat of her own heart.

summer heat blows dry
garden of red petalled roses-      
wildly reaching for clouds

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday  - 50 shades of rain.  I chose the word Uro, which means rain and dew.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

For Sale

Rolling in mud and hay
I pluck them wayward green
Peel off their rough skin, thorns
Then polish them silver
Gleaming as my witch eyes
I curl their locks flowing
Swaddled in fur, mink, sheen
They preen cool and youthful

For Sale, I holler loud
Are you thirsty for fame
You want to be happy
Rich or snare someone’s heart?
Then listen good & well
Pay for these magic words
Wisdom and joy are yours
Be happy and admired

All the foolish lads came
All the broken-hearted
Girls and weeping ladies
All bought jars and boxes
of words I’ve caged like birds
Singing songs they want to hear   
They’re scripted like pop songs
Branded hip, perfect lines

My pockets lined with coins
I go back fishing more   
Only the poets know
As well as monks & nomads
Words are free, floating near
Rolling in mud or hay
Or dancing under trees
Believe in them and they’re
Yours to catch, potent as myrrh  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meter-made Mood - Hosted by Victoria C. Slotto

I started with a short reaction to seeing magic potions and incantations for sale, but the words grew long and I couldn't stop myself.  Anyway, hope to meet the bar, smiles~

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Sculptured conversations

chisel my face
incomplete, as if part of me
is out there, screaming to be found
under the tangles and mayhem of city's life 

bear me down
among the wildgrass & wheat field
peel away my gilded fancy words & tarnish
my crown of perfect life & complete answers

teach me 
grains of vulnerability, humility
the grateful sway of your seasons, wisp of breath
that comes with fragile moments,  never to return 

as i lay 
down my mask,
cast my name to the lake
teach me to run again freely
& never fear facing the man I am

Photo by pixabay.com 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics:   Chisel me a conversation : Hosted by Lillian ~  We are invited to have a conversation with the artist or becoming the sculpture itself. 

Monday, June 13, 2016

Morning's spell

color the morning cucumber-green
drench air fragrant as newly sliced cantaloupe
purple blooms wave at cardinals & inquisitive squirrels

i inhale deeply
some days are not like this

I gather summer-wild flowers 
spill sunlight on my arms
& pepper my day with vanilla scents

Cress Wildflowers

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word SPILL.

Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, June 9, 2016

To a daughter by the lighthouse

Dry your victim's tears
I walk with you in this journey
You are
more than what they say you are
more than what you think you are

Feel your heartbeat
You are
born with survivor's spirit
A lighthouse to all those lost boats

Know that your cross is also my cross
And your scars will be beautifully shaped
Like deep thick roots of an oak tree
Some seasons, you will overflow with flowers
Some seasons, you will be empty of fruits
But you will keep on walking 

Even when some words are stones
Lingering sharp long after 
everyone have cast their judgments
Some words will be seeds
blooming even when you are not aware of it
They will be fuel and fire
Wind and thunderstorms
For your other sisters and brothers 
Be strong with your voice

Your children need to hear it-
Your partner needs to hear it-
Follow that instinct
Like the creatures of the earth

Who knows when its time to go or stay
When its time to be fight or give up
Keep yourself hungry for sunsets 
Thirsty for adventures & road trips
Don't you realize by now

You are more than 5 letters
A rib-maker, formed by your own hands-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg

My thoughts upon reading the rape victim's powerful letter here  when her accuser, an ex-Stanford university swimmer, was sentenced to only 6 months of prison.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Chasing a song while walking the trails

Hamilton, Canada

Let's chase the sun
Across the valleys and plains
Out to where the sky is so blue

Take leave of your stuff
We'll travel light as birds
Marveling each new season
With a lilt and swooping wings

Let's chase the sun
Across the rivers and caves
Out to where sands are so pink

See the clouds whirling fast
Over apples trees and wheat fields
Chasing dragonflies, we put   
colorful marks along the way 

Let's chase the sun
Across the valleys and plains
Out to where the sky is so blue

Only when you see 
the school of fish, tarry
the murder of crows, pause
a siege of herons, stop

Otherwise, let's chase the sun
Across the valleys and plains
Out to where the sky is so blue

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics, The Music in You, hosted by Mish ~   Attempting a "singable" poem ~

Monday, June 6, 2016

Monday morning

Over my morning bowl of fruits, yogurt and honey, I contemplate the mist hanging over the rooftops.  The maple and oak trees are lush with green leaves and rain over the weekend.  I inhale the quiet strum of breeze over the sleepy drooping flowers.   The slow -caterpillar time is cut short as my eyes soon spot wayward stuff in the kitchen and dining room.   My hands become busy bees - picking up, tidying, and cleaning left-over dinner stains on the table and kitchen counter.  I have accepted that my standard of cleanliness is higher than the rest of the family.   Soon, the blue recycling and black garbage bags are finally tied and brought down to the garage.   The pace of my morning picks up faster as I leave for work and ride the subway train.   Though it is a summer morning,  I fail to catch butterflies along the way.  

the sun is a slow 
spider spinning its thread of gold-
I'm caught in its spell

Cut Leaved Thootwork
by Grace@EverydayAmazing

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday - Quotidian- hosted by Kanzensakura ~  Thanks for the visit ~