the best skipping stones
are at the bottom of the
pond, already thrown
the ducks will not bring them up
so I am empty handed
I wrote this on Day 20 of NaHaiWriMo. I had taken my mother to a chemo treatment and aging was on my mind. I forget what made me think of skipping rocks on a pond, maybe it was a reflecting pool that I saw. Anyway, since I have been talking about mom, and letting the experience influence my writing, I thought that I would share a picture of her doing her chair time. You can see many more pictures of my weekly life if you follow the link to my Instagram.
as a country girl
there are three times in life where
you get dressed up
proms, weddings, someone’s funeral
deep in the Fall season
I don’t know how many times I’ll be able to do Tanka Tuesdays in a row, but I am going to get a couple up this month. I will continue to post something every Monday for you, and I will try to make it a haiku. And yes, I exaggerate a little in this poem, but I was speaking of formal dresses, which I have worn 5 times in my 31 years. Just for kicks, here I am dressed up on my 31st birthday. You can’t see my bottom half, but that’s alright because I was wearing jeans anyway.
the ground freezes
but my baby never has
he grows to a boy
nothing can hold him still
propelled by winds of change
Sometimes it is crazy how fast they grow. Here is a tanka that I forgot I wrote. I go through my poetry at the beginning of the year and get it all organized and put into Word Documents and on my Evernote account so that I don’t lose any of it. Do you do that as a writer or poet?
rabbit hides in the
shadow of the sapling
he looks silly
then I remember I said
I’d be grateful for small things
So I said I’d share haiku, and this is a tanka. Oops. At least I am going to share every day this week. I managed to get my posts scheduled. I used to do Tanka Tuesdays because for a while I was churning them out. I also wrote and shared over a year’s worth of small stones poetry which is basically micropoetry. Click the bolded words to find more of my work. Remeber to hit Like when you like what you read!
There’s no rabbit in the picture if you’re looking! I didn’t get a picture of him, so this will have to do.
a quick lesson
chasing the bunny before
the school day starts
he still needs my help with them
shoe strings keep coming untied
I wrote this last year for a #WrittenRiver prompt. Today was my son’s first day in 2nd Grade. He can tie his shoes, and do lots of other things, but there is still so much for him to learn. He picked out his first-day outfit, which was all blue, and he picked out a backpack that lights up. The Pokeball is his lunch box.
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.