her beautiful face
transfixed by the white glow
as if she’s perfect
but the moon has pot marks too
no woman is perfect
February 17, 2017
I wrote this during National Haiku Writing Month this year.
symbols of change
butterfly and dragonfly
are popular ones
I defied the odds like the
fat little bumblebee
June 30, 2016
Did you know that the bumblebee should be incapable of flying? Scientists don’t know how they do it.
I have gained weight in the last two years, and I have not lost it. But I have had good changes in my life too. I am surviving. It may not be pretty, but I am surviving in this world.
even though it’s not dry
wanting to do more
over doing it because
I don’t do anything halfway
Tanka are supposed to be autobiographical. So I am just gonna post this and say that sometimes the poems I post are deeply personal.
the good news
told in the dogwood’s petals
about how he bled for us
told over and over each spring
I first shared this tanka on Twitter as I was inspired to write it by #WrittenRiver prompt 917 “for all eternity.”
The legend of the dogwood tree comes from a poem, author unknown, about the relationship between the tree and the cross on which Jesus was crucified:
In Jesus’ time, the dogwood grew
To a stately size and a lovely hue.
‘Twas strong and firm, its branches interwoven.
For the cross of Christ its timbers were chosen.
Seeing the distress at this use of their wood
Christ made a promise which still holds good:
“Never again shall the dogwood grow
Large enough to be used so.
Slender and twisted, it shall be
With blossoms like the cross for all to see.
As blood stains the petals marked in brown,
The blossom’s center wears a thorny crown.
All who see it will remember Me
Crucified on a cross from the dogwood tree.
Cherished and protected, this tree shall be
A reminder to all of My agony.”
The dogwood is a genus of between thirty and sixty plants including shrubs, evergreens, and flowering trees. Dogwoods are most common in China, Japan, and the US, but can also be found in Eurasia, although not naturally. The wood is very hard, but, as the poem suggests, trees large enough to provide lumber for a cross are rare.
To see where I found this information click here.
looking through files
handwriting of those now gone
my name on the cards
summer bugs start to sing
the seasons have changed
Now that Christmas is past and things are calming down at work, I should have more time and be able to write and post more poetry. What kinds of poetry do you like?
Also, don’t forget it’s International Blog Delurking Week! Comments are a must!
the smell of pork roast
first time always turns out
victory is what is hard
more than a flash in the pan
Thank you all so much! I am now at 705 followers! I asked more of you to follow this blog two weeks ago on Monday, October 24th and you did. By the next day, I was at 700 followers and the number has stayed up!
Thank you for reading my work. Thank you for seeking me out. Thank you for following me on Twitter and on Facebook. Thank you for leaving me comments. I appreciate every Follow and every Like I get. I appreciate the retweets and all of the other shares as well.
Thank you for staying with me as this blog changes. Thank you for joining me as this blog is in the midst of change. I posted my last quote on Monday of this week. While I love quotes, those have never been the most loved posts by my readers. My short stories have quickly become my most liked type of post on this blog. While I will try to write a short story and post it by Friday night, my heart is in poetry. I plan to share a haiku that you have never read before, every Monday, as always.
This tanka was inspired by a #fieryverse prompt.
Fall blows through the trees
everyone comments on the
not mentioning they’re dying
although we’re all watching
I wrote this last October when my Great Aunt was passing away.
walking the block to
see which bike fits the boy best
Guided home by the
lightning bugs, North Star follows
the moon, husband follows son
Well, dear readers, this is the last Tanka Tuesday that I will do for a while. I have run out of Tanka. Sorry that I skipped last Tuesday. That was a hard day at work and I just completely forgot to post anything. I will share new Tanka as I write it, I might entitle the post “Tanka Tuesday” or I might not.
Would you like me to label it Tanka Tuesday so that you will know when I post my next one?
passions as hot as
the sun, stars cannot control
who I am
If you are unsure of the rules of haiku then please go to my What is Haiku? page. Also, stop by the Facebook page where most of us poets meet to get a prompt and share our work. It would also be nice of you to go to that page and click Like on people’s posts to encourage them in their writing.
Today’s prompt was “zodiac”. I was afraid at first that I wouldn’t be able to write a haiku because this tanka popped into my head. But instead of fighting myself, I wrote the tanka, then went at it again. This is the first thing I wrote this morning.
of the sky into sections
unable to let
the wild things be wild
man must even control space
black tie and dragon
I scroll through my electronic
notebook of flowers
some people pin furniture
that they will never get
I wish I could afford to have the beautiful flowers I have found on Pinterest shipped to me from England! They have some beautiful irises. What do you like to pin on Pinterest?
the marigolds were
a nuisance to deadhead
always in the front
but now there is emptiness
where they did not grow back
I decided that since I have written so many tanka, it would be fun to do Tanka Tuesday for a while. I am posting them in chronological order, skipping the tanka that I have already posted.
I did not have marigolds this last Fall. It felt weird until I bought myself some mums. I have never had mums which had always nagged at me because that is something most women put in their flowerbeds in my part of the world during Fall. So I bought some orange mums and felt better. I am keeping the mums in the garage, I am going to see if I can get them to come back in the spring.
I close my eyes
as memory’s noose tightens
around my soft neck
the acidic smell of smoke
makes me think of him, and cry
I wrote this around the 4th of July. It is about how memories sometimes sneak up on us, and the remembrance is sometimes unbearable. I hope you remember the good times this week.