The Closet, NaPoWriMo

spring cleaning,

of a sort—perhaps–

objects that

beget the

remembrance, past events, some

forgotten, we smile

 

at the old

report cards, boxes

of them and

school projects–

you kept them through all the moves–

holding our childhoods

 

long after

we’d outgrown them, but

there it is–

a lunchbox–

a small book I made for you,

in a school art class,

 

there my first

published book, you stamped

it with your

name, assigned

it to classes, proud father

storing books and dreams,

 

phases of

our lives sharing space

with antiques.

Ming vases

once held living flowers, but

all things turn to dust–

 

we vacuum

the closet, and close

the door, laugh

so much junk!

Though I understand wanting

to hoard memories

 

 

Today, Day 18 of NaPoWriMo, we’re challenged to write an elegy “one in which the abstraction of sadness is communicated not through abstract words, but physical detail.”  This is written in a series of shadorma stanzas. I couldn’t get this poem started until I remembered my sisters and I cleaning out the big storage closet in my dad’s last apartment. He died over twenty years ago in May.

I’m also linking this to Open Link Night at dVerse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Life, NaPoWriMo

This life, dull

as it seems, without

flashy cars

or jazzy

toys, expensive vacations

to island beaches–

 

still, it’s mine

loved for its loving,

family,

husband, and

children, friends, the poetry

found in moon and stars,

 

in sunshine

moments of cat purrs–

wine kisses,

coffee and

talk, a movie, and a walk

into the sunset.

 

This life, dull

only to others,

but to me

contentment

(most of the time). Yes, worries,

but still, I’m dancing. . .

into the sunset.

 

 

Today, Day 12, NaPoWriMo, challenges us “to write a poem about a dull thing that you own, and why (and how) you love it.”  Another shadorma train and more lists.

 

 

 

 

 

Origins, NaPoWriMo

Franz Marc, “Blue Horse,” 1911, [Public Domain] via Wikipedia Commons

When the stars

exploded, diamond

dust scattered

sparkling grains,

spindrift of night seas, and here

they planted themselves

 

in dream worlds,

I see shadow ifs

the before,

the after,

shadow seas and blue horses

places known, maybe

 

we swam in

oceans, we lived in

caves, and trees

sheltered us. And now? We seek

new stars. The moon hums

 

in comfort,

a warning of what

might be if–

or when–

we return to the starlight,

sailing cosmic seas

 

Today, Day 11 of NaPoWriMo asks us to write an origin poem. I decided to go way back. Kerfe inspired me with her shadorma sequence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recall the Dreams

 

Recall when we

watched the moon, a peach

rising—and

crying for

us? The sad music of dreams

and a thousand whys—

 

we want to

run after her and

ask of death,

of whispers,

ugly shadows, yet let it

go, to sleep, aching.

 

The Oracle, of course, knows everything, including the most recent example of human depravity. This is a double shadorma for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Challenge, using synonyms for lead and follow

But here’s something else, a bit lighter. I’ve had this song in my head all week because of these prompt words–Carole King, Where You Lead.

This Moment

 

Create this

draft in words, moments

remembered–

her smile, or

the scent of

coffee, waking you now, but

sending you back then

 

A Shadorma for Colleen’s Weekly Challenge. I might have missed the deadline.  🙂

 

Dreams and Wishes

More than cake—

remember magic

lives long. Let

it always

surround you, a breathing cloud,

a dance in kisses

 

and so, this—ask if,

but explore the secret stars

in a universe

time ghost-laughs a fevered breeze

and a heart blushes, flowers

 

 

The Oracle knows everything, so she knows it is birthday month at my house. Both daughters and my husband (and mother-in-law) have birthdays in February. When the girls were little, we often had a combined Valentine’s-birthday party. So here is birthday love and wishes in a shadorma tanka combo for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge.  But there will also be a lot of cake and celebrations this month.

First Blush, Dawn

 

First blush, dawn

starts each day anew–

ripe with hope

untouched by

the future, only yet glimpsed,

a shimmer of light

 

A shadorma for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday—synonyms for begin and fresh. I didn’t see the sunrise today, only snow.

 

 

Sheltered in Branches

Oak tree ringed

now with red-gold leaves

all around,

still they fall,

but the tree recalls the spring

when buds bloom anew—

 

and laughter

rises once again

as children

climb and play–

and ghosts perch there with the birds

sheltered through seasons

 

Frederic Edwin Church, “The Charter Oak at Hartford,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

I feel like trees are trying to tell me something lately: the Theresienstadt Tree, the Tree of Life synagogue, and the big, old oak tree in my yard.

I’m posting this for Open Link night at dVerse, even though it’s Open Link morning for me.  🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the Blood Moon

After blood moon’s

shadow rose, misted

and rust-still

with music,

a symphony urging you,

Love, to soar away.

 

But time screams

a luscious pink sky,

here in day–

asks, sweet-tongued–

must and if–and so, I moan—

we trudge together

 

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

 

 

The Oracle must have been sky gazing last night and gave me this double Shadorma.

It was cloudy and rainy here last night.

Awakened: It’s a Movement

Now their eyes

see past and future,

what has been,

what could be,

embracing hope that we can change–

make the world better