traces of the
baby you used to be
when I hold you
I could have sworn that I already posted this haiku to the blog, but I can’t find it when I search for it, so maybe not. I know that I posted it on Twitter the night that I wrote it. I am going to try to post a haiku every day this week to make up for being away lately. The more you hit Like and Share the more motivated I am!
moon slowly enters
giving our family
a long summer night
Are you enjoying the summer nights with your family?
The moon blurred into a heart when I took the photo.
My husband taking my son out to see eclipse that was also a blood moon.
ears full of laughter
faces full of smiles
night of full cold moon
This year and has been long and hard, but I have enjoyed it pieces of it. I have had my husband and son beside me the whole time and we enjoy each other every day. That is why I have made it through; because I have their love. These pictures are of the blood moon eclipse that happened in September 2016.
the lesson of shoe strings
my kit growing up
This was written after I found Botaiku prompt 470 on Twitter.
I used to try to always post my haiku in the season that I wrote them, or in the season they were written. But now I am just sharing them as time allows. The picture is from August of 2016, when we went back to Sea*Life and G got to meet Captain Barnacles and he became an honary Octonaut.
This poem is about the day that we brought my grandfather home to die. He died about 3 months after we brought him home. He died 10 years after my mom’s mother died, 10 years later on the exact day. September is such a bad month for my family.
Standing in the elevator my ears close
They curl up and refuse to hear anymore
My eyes begin to dim like a bad bulb
Because they don’t want to see
I grab the bar to keep myself standing
I have to walk out of this hospital
We have to go home and get ready
He has one weekend left
The man who faced down Nazis
Who kept the Germans from
Breaking through the Bulge
Cannot keep his body from malfunctioning
He has fought off heart attacks
So now his brain is having strokes
The small attacks are beating him down
They have paralyzed his legs and one arm
He drove a tank over The Alps
and across the Rhine to free people
Now he drives a wheelchair across the kitchen
My aunt is trying to talk to me
But I’m not really hearing the words
The moment did not knock me down
Or throw me over oblivion’s edge
Instead it is slowly dragging me to the floor
Is my blood sugar low
No my realization is high
Death is standing in the shadows
Of my grandfather’s hospital room
We make Boston Cream Pie as we wait
For the ambulance to bring him home
Because diabetes has finally won
And he can have sugared strawberries
warm zucchini bread
my mother cuts a slice
I remember grandma’s garden
If you are unsure of the rules of haiku and want to know more, then 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 “zucchini”. Have you ever had zucchini bread? It is like banana bread with zucchinis. Whenever my mom makes certain food I remember eating it as a child. The memories come back with the taste and smell.
blind fingers grope
flowers on the sill fade
they could not find the sun
I have a group of haiku that was written about sick family members, or friends that had passed away. They are the most special to me, but I have trouble sharing them. I decided to share this one with you, but I am keeping the others to myself for a while.
dented rim of pot
my aunts voice telling me
about learning to cook
Using certain pots reminds me of certain people. I am a visual person so the things in my cabinets bring back memories when I get them out.
Bloglovin’ is having a contest during the month of August. The top three bloggers who gain the most new followers during the month, will be featured on both the Bloglovin’ site. Please help me out by following Failing at Haiku on their site.
my brother’s laugh
is the sound I want to hear
Did winter weather interrupt your plans this winter?
My Shift at Grandpa’s was originally published here in Barefoot Review.
My Shift at Grandpa’s
Walking barefoot across the kitchen
I let him sleep because
You heal while you sleep
I sweep the floor
And do some dishes in case
He gets visitors today
As I wipe down the table
I remember playing cards together
Laughs echo down the hall
That no one wants to be in anymore
He can’t hold cards
Or cook meatballs or catch fish
But that was never my
Main reason for visiting anyway
It is our turn to give now
I give him his medicine and
Cook his meals a few times a week
I know that the weeks left
Are growing shorter and dimmer
The best canoe trip in the world
Cannot compare to the gleam in his eye
When he tells me about Pigtails
And how he walked her to church
Under a sign that said
No Army Personnel Past This Point
I smile at his old jokes
Because I know that
I’ll never hear this voice
Tell them again.
© July 20, 2012 by Symanntha Renn
My grandpa has been gone for 9 years today.
black and white photos
all of the old men in them
start to look like grandpa