my e-calendar 2023

I fill my work calendar with big stones. I organize my activities and set my career goals for 2023.  Family's birthdays and other milestones are colored in spring green.  Also my timetable for vacations & personal days from work are marked  in bright pink.    That block of time is precious, like a gift to be carefully unwrapped, slowly after each tear.  

However for my personal life's goal, the calendar is open.   I welcome the blankness of the canvas because it means new things and challenges for me.  Though I am keen on regularly walking, hiking and reading in my down time,  I invite time to ghost me, while I ponder on my verses & mystery of the night sky. 

mud-stained sky is glum

melting ice by craggy shore-

birds glide, swelling tide 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Kim Russell.   Our poetry community is back! Cheers to 2023!   

early autumn

 

We walk on a few fallen red maple leaves.  It is still in the early fall season as most of trees have their leaves.   The leaves have started to change colors to pink lemonade, beige and honey, forming a delightful umbrella versus the grey sky.  We talk about how quickly summer time has passed as it was suddenly my dad's 5th death anniversary in September.   Time has softened the memories into an old movie projector and I can pick out the reels with happier and carefree times.  Soon, our footsteps lead us to a river, flowing with rhythmic beat to the wind.  

beneath the glass sky,

leaves spark a fire of colors-

river ripples, ducks- 

Posted for dVerese Poets Pub, Haibun Monday - September Song, with guest host, Xenia Tran.  The virtual pub doors open at 3pm EST.

slow dance

frayed daffodil leaves
thirsting under summer sun-
orange cardinals hop

among the brambles,
cones & wilting rose bushes-
wild bunnies stop

wary of red fox
& coyotes lurking about-
sky- dragon of clouds

i hold 
spring bulbs for fall's planting-
sunset fades- slow dance




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haiku sequence, hosted by Frank Tassone.  Thanks for your visit and comments.

Haibun: Appointment with Death

Cherry Blooms in 2015 by Grace

Haiku by Issa:

"what a strange thing -
to be alive beneath
cherry blossoms"

I read the news with sadness - the tragic ending of a 2 year old boy, who was lost and found dead from drowning in the nearby creek.   My heart bleeds for the parents and family of  Chase, just as it bleeds for the victims who were injured and died in the latest bombing in Lahore, Pakistan last Easter Sunday.    

The specter of death came closer last week - an officemate's husband just suddenly collapsing on his work table, and dying a few hours later in the hospital.   My young colleague with two young sons, is now on leave, trying to organize things after the unexpected demise of her husband.    

How fortunate I am to be enjoying the Easter dinner with my family, catching up with news and renewing our ties. I search for the budding of hope on my hands.  I am thankful for the blessings, and call on the gift of kindness, inside my heart, to spring forth like a  river.  To bloom with joy even during the darkest of nights.

at dawn, half-moon lingers

above cherry bloom trees, still bare-

while our heart beats with rain

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Kanzensakura

Thanks for the visit ~

The title is from my favorite author, Agatha Christie's book, Appointment with Death.   I have been watching the series on Hercule Poirot on Netflix for the past month.   

Soup for today

a maple leaf falls

on bench, wind-swirled, sun-creased 

I heard a leap of faith  

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

I inhale autumn's air
it is melancholy lilt as sun
browns the last leaf to gold
and russet

I gather fallen cones
cold as red-winged feather
along with decayed blooms
scented with rain

I brace myself for winter's
onslaught but today, i inhale
crisp air deeply like a warm
freshly bubbled soup



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight hosted by Abha ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Night's paranoia

Craved images of you
Taunts me like red flag waving over bull's head
I tell you
I am a boxer with mangled fists
Shooting eggs with guns
Downing shots, weary of your paranoia 

But you keep on whispering
Flood me like a lone streetlight amongst the darkness

I kiss you slowly 
with my swollen lips 
Fear clicks 
Like a lioness with belladonna in her eyes


night descends
on blooming moon flowers,
carrying a torch 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Anthony Desmond ~ 
Thanks for the visit ~
Picture credit:   Here

Hushed conversations

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

These days, there is a frequent visitor in father's house.   

Every time he knocks on the door, the old man's fragile heart beats rapidly like he is running a race. Yet his father could hardly carry a conversation as his breathing is labored. And his memories are faltering too, repeating:

"I can feel that my feet are on fire!".   His wife answers, "It is just your nerves as you are very anxious."  

But father would insist, "I cannot breathe and sleep at night.  There is something burning in my stomach." He prays fervently, clasping the blessed rosary. He grows thinner, relying on his family to care for him.  He has seen many doctors and priests over the years.   The room smells of candles & devotions.  His children avoid saying anything about hospital bills nor property arrangements.  

They say the visitor's name by now.  Not with a question mark but a period.  

Death.   

crab apples fall on ground

bruised, speckled by birds-  
autumn arrives with black veil  



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Writing Dialogue - Hosted by Victoria Slotto ~

Two trains, two worlds

I commute to the city, considered the hub
of financial world, by riding the Toronto rocket 
Its metallic hiss
long spine measuring 6 cars, fully opened
rapidly follows the tracks
Cool, clean & modern
with computer generated lights & voice over
Commuters carry gadgets, phones & games
All polite & courteous
Though once in a while, a shirtless man
breaks the chained monotony
& dances carefree as
blue butterfly

The lake beside tower
shimmers blue of summer -
Swans burst, pure of light

Back in the old town, the train

is a workhorse

piping wearily along mud-tracks

You ride along with

boxes of produce (rice & vegetables)

animals in cages (pigs & chickens to be slaughtered)

baskets of fresh fish & shells

It is noisy

Smelling of sweat & musky earth

Dirt seeps into your skin  

& you pray that it will not break down

before your destination.

Sun browns your face

while palm trees keep snatching 

to play with your straw hat 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Trains Hosted by Bill
Picture credit:   here

For Elijah

No one heard you cry
as you curled tight in corner, blue-cold
Have I been remiss?  I miss you-

your toothy grin, white shirt & boots
Too thin & frail for polar cold
No one heard you cry 

As your pulse slowed, repulsing icy wind
Your high-pitched voice now low, hollowed   
I miss you - Have I been remiss  

In locking tight the doors
In checking to make sure you are safe
No one heard you 

As you ran out, a rabbit excited about
Making snowman & drinking warm cocoa
Have I been remiss?   I miss you-

No one held your small face
and whispered good night, my little angel
No one heard your cries this morning
I've been remiss, missing you-

~0~0~0~

I heard no bird songs

nor laughter pink as your cheeks -

Ice had seeped in, black-

Yellow-rumped warbler by M. Bednar 

RIP Elijah Marsh, 3 year old toddler who died after 6 hours of wandering outside his family's apartment.  The last picture taken of him showed him wearing only a shirt, diaper & boots, as he stepped outside at 4 am.  His family discovered him missing from his bed at 7:30 am. The weather that morning was -30 C with the wind chill.   Source

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Play It Again - Haiku & M's Word List- Absent
and Poets United - A villanelle of a sort ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Inside his damaged heart

lies a ticking clock, 

winding so slow, dawn slumbers

above water's stillness

From my sister's album

Vietnam's national flower, lotus

You sit still, silent as lotus
Listening as frantic heart beats
Wash over you, fold & repeat
Nights are the worse, without notice

Pain strikes from your scarred heart, so blue
It etches your voice so faint, frail 
I hold phone close, deeply inhale 
As you thank me for calling you

Wishing you Happy Father's Day !!!

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Yeats' Octaves
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~
First poem - haiku
Second poem - Octave
The basic structure of this 8 line stanza is iambic tetrameter or pentameter (eight or ten syllable lines for those who do not feel comfortable working with meter), with the rhyme scheme:
a b b a c d d c. 

Haiku: The bamboo forest

This photo of Arashiyama is courtesy of TripAdvisor

 Bamboo Forest in Arashiyama, Japan

gentle sway of breeze

brush of bamboo leaves - music

strings the night in gold

~0~0~0~

above lantern lights

moon sparkles like diamond,

beating steadfast heart

~0~0~0~

my mother tells me:

grow upright like a bamboo

& nourish your sons

Posted for   Imaginary Garden for Real Toads

and Poets United ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Christmas after the ice storm

 

Picture by good friend, Fred Villacorta

Ontario, Canada

Under canopy

Icicles drip from bare trees

Slowly like tear drops

~0~0~

Snow falling like rain 

Drenches red bows & pine cones-

Ice sugar on cake

  

~0~0~

This Christmas season -  

The best gift of all- your love

unwrapped through the years

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads:  Words Count with MamaZen - Merry Christmas to all ~ 

Of storms

In storm's eye, houses fell as if they are matchsticks, burnt black, thinned of fire.

Wolfgang Stiller

Streets awashed with debris, smelled of pissed fear & dead fish with blameless eyes.  

She walks with her nose covered by towel, damp of tears and meal prayers.     

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Your words a flint, hungry for air, reaches for my lips petalled of rain.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - First 3 lines are about the plight of the people in the Philippines after the storm. My thoughts and prayers are with them.   

Thanks for the visit ~

Spring bloom

the way you swell:  

a fuller moon, a fragrant rose -

on my hands 

Picture credit:   Just a Picture

the way you tremble:

petalled pink, breathless wind, a dewdrop

on my lips

Posted for Poetry Jam:   Its All About Flowers
and Haiku Heights:  Ripple - It's been a while since I wrote haiku/senryu.  Smiles ~