The storm rolling in
Charcoal clouds
sweep across the sky–
windswept shrouds
covering
summer’s blue, a magic trick
of sun, moon, and stars
glimmering
with secrets of time.
Watch streaking
meteor
carrying ancient glitter
scattered on the earth.
I’m supposed to be working on my book, but somehow my poetry brain took over, and a poem appeared instead of a chapter. Ooops! This is a shadorma sequence for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday–synonyms of light and dark.
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, 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.
Franz Marc, “Blue Horse,” 1911, [Public Domain] via Wikipedia Commons
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 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.
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. 🙂
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
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.
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 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.
