Monday, October 30, 2017

petals of kindness

The city can harden your heart due to the toil of everyday labor and from beggars who make begging their job.   So when I witness acts of kindness from total strangers in the subway train, like giving up their seats for others, it reminds me that courtesy and kindness still abounds.    One even went out of her way to console a teary-eyed commuter.   When I have a chance, I give up my seat too when needed or share a tissue or pen when asked.   I believe in paying it forward, because I too was a recipient of kindness.  Years ago, I needed some coins for my bus home and wanted to break my $5.00 bill.  The woman offered her $1.00 coin, smiling and chatting with me and didn't asked for anything.  A small token, but a precious reminder - the seeds of kindness are everyone's reach.   

whiff of cold wind sends 
shivers of winter's dread- the dead
leaves petal the soil

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Toni, Kanzensakura, where the theme is kindness and the prose part is 150 words or less.  Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, October 26, 2017


sun glare
blue haze streaked with
black lava-

maddening thirsty soil-
tang of frost on tilted dust devils-

lost river
with little in it
to love-

Original Text:  Land of Little Rain by Mary Austin.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Erasure or Blackout Poetry hosted by Victoria Slotto. Come and join us when pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Walk with me by the Riverwood

tangerine leaf fell
not with creak-creaking sounds
nor screech-screeching seagull's cries
but with firm swish

into the river's belly,
mirror of lazy summer- 

tides gently rock
as blue sky pitches its ageless swansong

under his bug-bitten skin,
his heart was green
pasture, fluffy with cottonseeds-

Posted for dVerse Poets - Quadrille -  post of 44 words with the word CREAK.   Spent a wonderful autumn afternoon in Riverwood, a conservation area in our city.  Thanks for joining us.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017


The green leaves are still clinging
to boughs
Only the sudden gusts of cold wind
tears the canvas
to a calligraphy of sticks  
beside mulched green apples
pregnant with smell of rain

I marvel the sea of colors-
greens, oranges & burnt browns
filling up the sky, with dots of
orange pumpkins, yellow corn squash-

This season is too short
much like a hurried kiss
pressed between hello & goodbye-
That space
between words,
unaccounted, yet a heavy presence- 

Still autumn never burns
deeply under the skin,
Don't leave me, ever-

Instead, I fall
rolling with the season - 
falling into the piles of dying things- 
entwining with black soil & seeds of spring- 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, hosted by Kim Russell - Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, October 16, 2017

We wore black

The world at the other side, is drily chaotic but still a beloved motherland.   I have come for the funeral but it felt like a homecoming.   For myself, I had prayed for peace for my ailing father, and a comforting life for my mother and sisters who have been caring for him. He was a difficult patient who knew his days were numbered. As I arrive at the wake, the traditions of grieving made everything familiar, and  reassuring - flowers, mass cards, consoling words of neighbors and friends, and the prayers for the dead for 9 days.   

Rains came at early morning, cooling the summer-like temperatures during the day.  Dawn was reddish grey, with gloomy skies.   When the rains break, it was steady humming on the roof and small garden.  We were lucky that on the morning of the funeral rites, sky held its peace & only gave away its tears in the late afternoon.

smell of fragrant roses
perks up my nose, but there're no flowers-
only dying candles-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg. The haiku happened to me.  

Monday, October 9, 2017

Thank you for counting the moonbeams with me!

I touched the dark-

and felt the rage of
heavy rains-
intensity of lightning- 
bleakness of shadows-

Yet, I also felt light-

See, up there-
the moon
single flower
blooms with fervor
(not hope)
its silvery sheen 
enough to blaze nightsky- 

Reminding me:

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille with host De Jackson.   This is a 44 word post with the word - HOPE.   Thanks for the visit!  And for my Canadian friends, Happy ThanksGiving!!!