exquisite night for
a walk through the neighborhood
new summer old goals
I wrote this for #haikuchallenge on Twitter. I wrote it in Spring, but I am posting it on the first day of Summer. Do you have any old or new goals for the summer?
despite the chaos
we still have fun together
a loud flock of birds
This poem was inspired by a #writtenriver prompt which you can find on Twitter. I keep waiting for life to calm down and get in a rhythm. I like rhythms, I like routine with short bouts of crazy. But the last two years have been crazy with bouts of routine. I don’t know if life will get calmer, but I am enjoying it. I am enjoying my son and my husband and doing life with people in my community.
he floats closer
man of war seeking love
with a kiss that stings
I wrote this on May 28th, 2014 which was my son’s birthday. We took him to SeaLife for the first time and he loved it. It is one of the rare times I was able to write poetry on a happy day. Although, of course, the poem is not exactly a happy one. It was inspired by one of the most poisonous jellyfish known to man. (I don’t think those are the kind that are in the exhibit behind him.)
the only leaves in the tree
holding the baby
Just in case I get too busy today to post a haiku, I will post a haiku that I wrote in February 2015. But do check back for new haiku poem tonight. I wrote this while going to see my best friend’s baby.
watching to see if
I can catch a butterfly
in my hands
It’s that time of year again, time for the shortest form of poetry in the shortest month. I will try really hard to post my haiku poem every day. I make no promises about at what time that will happen nor how great it will be. All I can say is… stay tuned.
The prompts look like they will be fun and engaging this year. Today’s prompt was to write a haiku about haiku. How do you think I did?
Even if you don’t write haiku, or even if it isn’t your favorite type of poetry, please consider sharing poets’ work this month. It is getting harder to share your stuff on social media as all of the sites like Facebook now hide your posts, in hopes that you will pay to make them appear. So please subscribe or follow me, and any other poets that you like, and check out the hashtag #NaHaiWriMo on Twitter.
Also, to make life easier on myself, this is the image that will be attached to all of my 2017 haiku posts.
twisting around itself
the tender moonflower vine
held up by its own strength
National Haiku Writing Month is on its way! Will you participate this year?
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.
Hope Kitchen closed
sleet and ice covers the road
I saw the first two lines (basically) scrolling across the TV screen last January when there was a lot of ice. So you might call this a found poem.