beneath the earth

i want to be stamped

in spaces between verses

in crannies between bookshelves

my voice, a lone songbird

rising from the rain-soaked dandelions

to summer of marigolds & blue asters 

i want to be settled as

sand & sumac moving in rhythm with wind-

black cradled rocks digging deep in bush-

recite my incantation of wishes

for the yellowing of autumn leaves to

be buried in winter field of ice & white sky-

cover me in earth's seasons

rejoicing

i am from this land

and to earth, i will return-

seeds, pods, flowers, trees along the blue

mouth of Lake Ontario

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Tuesday's Poetics-The Four Elements, hosted by Kim Russell.   Thank you for your visits and comments.

 

Widow's Last Winter

 

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine   

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

My face under orchid's sun, wild cherry 

My body is bent tree, crowing to wind

Pining to fly & ride the last ferry   

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine  

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

This weighted sadness, blue trimmed with iced-rime

Spinning legs more than I care to carry  

Recalling a love, sweet as mulberry

Death - come & cover me - burs & soft twine   

Turning feet to plum,  bones to earth - bury

My face under orchid's sun, wild cherry 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetry Form is English Madrigal. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thank you for your comments and visits.

Cicada

you own the night with your voice
drumming our flesh with city vibes

the moon beds you with starlight 
& silverdust, we turn to moonflowers

yet your eyes are bright sun-
flowers even when your bones

are weary, your breasts are heavy
with scars, still

your words are warm honey
& herbed tea, spooned by kindness  

as you watch over the vessel of your
bloodline & friends vine in tangled joy

now as our hands are weeping
we're also smiling with birdsongs of your memories

i breathe 
your spontaneity & zest for life

there are no black or white lines
only colors spilling out from pen & lens

rest in peace, friend



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenlinkNight.   Please join us when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.  This poem is in remembrance of my school mate who died this week.   

black clouds

charred earth, i return to you
my voice hoarse as wind
murmuring goodbyes you don't hear
a fireball caught me

as my voice, hoarse as wind
was silenced by explosion
a fireball caught me
how was i to know death came

silently, an explosion
the sky was burning river
how was i to know death came 
from clouds, black by silt and stones 

as the sky turned to burning river
murmuring goodbyes you don't hear
from clouds, black by silt & stones, to
charred earth, i return to you



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Kim Russell.   
This poem is written for those killed in the recent Ethiopian airline crash, that killed 157 people on board. "Some family members have been given charred earth from the crash site to help remember their loved ones."

may you see field of tulips on your journey

as lone sunflower
falls 

i inhale incense
as sky scoops back predicted 

rain, surging life, silk-spun fragile 
as budding white tulip

you're not storm
chaser, but peacemaker

staying close
to family's roots, tilling 

zen-inspired garden,
beading memoirs-

and now, pilgrim's traveller
on journey 

home 

Family Photo by Grace @Everyday Amazing

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Quadrille, hosted by Kim Russell.   This is a 44 word post with the chosen word "rain".   This photo is from the funeral of my sister 2 weeks ago and I can finally talk about it as a means of healing & moving on.   Thanks for your visit.

the long mo(u)rning

My mom comes to visit the graveyard to say her prayers.  The early November crowds have gone, and the solemnity has returned to the cemetery.  Her lips and fingers move around the rosary beads with ease.   As always, her eyes water as she sees my father's etched name on the grey plate. How each letter glitters like tiger's eyes under the dying sunset.  Though she has dedicated masses and special intentions, she wonders if he is at peace at last.   Is he still suffering or has he finally reunited with our Lord? Every night, she prays for a sign, message or a dream of my father's after-life journey.     Over the phone, I listen to her crying and questions.  I have no answers.                

snowy owl hoots

behind trees & carpet of leaves-

night is silent, starless-

Source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Haibun Monday, hosted by Victoria Slotto.  The theme is to

write about Fukuroo – the Owl. Owl is a winter kigo but you can write about any season. Please keep the prose to under 200 words. 

November

the wind is blade
of ice, cutting through the skin-
November sky is wrinkled  
in steel- blue fur & grey scarf-
the fallen leaves dot
streets in golden light & fading ink-

in the yellow-domed cathedral
the people light candles for the dead
and bring fresh flowers & rain-
soaked mourning cards
for some, the memories of departed souls
is a fleeting strain of music
light as whiff of red roses

for others, grief is heavy as winter boots 
pounding the cobbled stones
searching for signs
to go somewhere, anywhere
but this void, festering wound
slowly turning the bones to stone

i wait for sunsets
magnificent light show 
of bleeding purple, 
bristling orange & raunchy scarlet ribbons, 
thick with wild-eyed ardor
for life, ever unfolding-     

For dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.

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.  

of tangerine dreams

i see your smile, shy-tangerine grin
behind the crab apple tree, sunset-stilled
you move slowly to pluck the ripe 
bearing fruits, licked by summer rain 

i taste wine & olives as i walk towards you 
but you're turning to a blur, mist of clouds
my feet are turning to quicksand as
you fade away, dreamscape in a fog-

how quickly i forget, time has hidden you
from me- you, fiery fire of my canvas-
you, deepest blue lake of my thoughts-

every night, even with my eyes closed
i can trace your face with my fingertips,
my love, sleep, until we meet again-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Free verse sonnet hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

A joyful celebration

his smile trembled, through pain & tears - Thank you!
to his sister & brother, children and wife
and his last breath, a sigh of gratitude

by hospital bed, they prayed over him, through
early hours, against despairing waves  
as his smile trembled, through pain & tears - Thank you!

his journey with chemotherapy, askew 
frail lungs drowning with water, knifing
breath to be his last, (still) a sigh of gratitude

with family cancer history, he knew   
time's reckoning with younger brother's demise-    
his smile trembled, through pain & tears - Thank you!

beloved family came to visit with no clues
his health was fast deteriorating, wise
till his last breath, we sigh of gratitude

a huge collage stood by his coffin - Adieu! 
a celebration, we'll remember his life,  
his smiles, despite the pain & tears - Thank you!
for his last breath, filled with joy, gratitude



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Villanille Form, Hosted by Frank Hubeny ~  This is a 19 line poem with refraining lines.   For my poem, I alter the last lines, to give it a twist so it does not wholly become repetitive.  

About the Villanille Form:  The most striking thing about a villanelle is that it has two refrains (“A1” and “A2”) and two repeating rhymes (“a” and “b”). The first and third line of the opening tercet are repeated alternately as the refrains, until the last stanza, which includes both refrains.

With this, the pattern of the villanelle can be illustrated as as A1bA2 – abA1 – abA2 – abA1 – abA2 – abA1A2 where “a” and “b” are the two rhymes, and the upper case letters (“A1” and “A2”) indicate the refrains.

long journey home

your body rots
slow decay, turtle's pace
drinking tea & eating greens, your 
hands are lace-veined, brown-speckled by sun

your memories are rain-
dewed by past, lingering over photos-
fragrance of flowers bring you tears, phone calls
from your children and grandchildren livens your time

is this a blessing or curse
out-living your spouse, friends and siblings?
your aches, back and jaws 
are increasingly painful as years float, blur 

waiting
you are always 
waiting 
for that final blazing sunset

a gift, you'll then say 


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Wrap it in ribbons (Gifts) Poetics, hosted by Lillian ~ Thanks for the visit ~