dVerse

Faith Haibun

lillian21 Comments

At times of crisis, injury; imminent danger for a child, loved one or close friend, many of us slip into “bargaining” or pleading mode. Please God, if you let her avoid this, I will . . . ; or Please God, let him make it through this and I will never . . .

This moment was different as I listened to the doctor. He may or may not wake up. If he does, he most likely will not be the same.
I looked at the doctor and demanded, What do you mean, he won’t be the same?
His heart stopped for six minutes so his brain . . .
I loudly interrupted, NO!
I wouldn’t listen. I didn’t hear the beeping machines or see the tubes. I just stared intently at his face, past the intubation tube. Held his cold limp hand and firmly said, He is here. He will return to us. I know it.
It was a statement of fact for me. A moment of faith.

snow covered cold ground
challenging spring to surface
crocus pushed to bloom

spring-awakening-3132154_1920

It’s haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Mish asks us to write about faith. A haibun is two or three succinct paragraphs of prose that must be true, followed by a seasonal haiku. This post also works for Day 2’s prompt for  NaPoWriMo where we’re asked to use “voice” in our post. Prose is in the first/personal voice. Haiku is from the third voice, looking on rather than being in.
I’ve written about this topic before…it’s been five years and those days are indelibly imprinted on my psyche.  We continue to be thankful for every day. 

Bermuda, Tanaga Me

lillian27 Comments

*Tanaga – part of an oral tradition going back to the early 16th century. Stanzas of four lines, seven syllables per line; rhyming each line of a stanza on the same rhyme sound.

Just my tanaga and me
watching the dawn blissfully.
Sailboats rest upon the sea
kiskadees sing from a tree.

Fingers tap relentlessly
counting sevens, never three.
Overhead the gulls fly free
soaring, flapping gleefully.

This place holds a history
many a catastrophe.
Shipwrecks buried ‘neath the sea
part of lore and memory.

For all things Bermudaful
for friendships and nature too,
my spirit ever grateful
sadly I must bid adieu.

IMG_9534I shot this panoramic at Horseshoe Bay on the south shore of Bermuda, said to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. We’ve spent at least a month of our past four Boston winters in Bermuda and have come to love the beauty of the country and its people. This is our last year here — as we move on to other adventures next year.

Posted for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Frank introduces us to the Tanaga form. He indicates it comes from the Tagalog language of the Philippines, and does say we may take poetic freedom with the rhyming scheme, which I do in the final stanza.

See the Sea . . .

lillian47 Comments

Transplant from concrete city,
hustle-bustle and blaring horns,
she loves all things Bermudaful.

Smitten by color
red flowers peek from handlebar baskets,
her rusty bicycle now a sky-blue.

Today, just as every day
day after day, week after week
she tries to begin a letter home.

Sea breezed salt-flavored lips
gnaw tooth-marked pen.
Mind searches for appropriate words.

The ocean here is so . . .
cerulean, cobalt blue,
aquamarine, azure hued.

Page littered,
crossed out words.
How to write what she sees?

Try again. First words flow,
White-capped and undulating,
turquoise ultramarine waves . . .

 sapphire, Prussian, pastel blue.
Mesmerizing . . . royal blue waters.
Nature defies the dictionary.

Stationery crumpled and set aside,
sun glasses off, wine poured
she makes the long distance call . . .

and simply says two words.
Come see.

 

Bermudaful — another way to say beautiful in Bermuda!  We have 10 days left of our month-long stay in this beautiful island country.

It’s Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. I’m hosting today and provide folks with a number of images to peruse….all of which, in some ways, evoke the feelings of spring.  “Think young, take the energy of the spring season and think fun, new life, possibilities. Sunny side up, everyone.”  Poets choose one image from those provided in the prompt. (I selected the bicycle). Poems should be motivated by the image, which should be cut and pasted into the post. The poem does not need to be about spring, but it should take us away from the cold and dreary.

Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come see the other images available for this prompt….and put a spring in your step with us!

 

 

Quadrille Passion

lillian34 Comments

Murmur me
sweet poetic words.
Play softly
fingertip arpeggios.

Mirror my passion.
Bounce you to me to you,
rhythmic cadence
tonal harmony.

Blood moon
burns ebony sky.
Come lie with me
in lunar lust.

Staccato.
Allegro.
Crescendo.
Nighttime symphonic love.

blood-moon-521892_1920

Created for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where it’s Quadrille Monday (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). Kim hosts, asking us to include the word “egg.” I’ve included “egg” within a word: arpeggios. Past prompts for this quadrille series have included burn, murmur, poet, and bounce: all are included here. We may always use a form of the word . Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! Postscript:  I think this may not include all the words afterall….as in I think there may be others in this Quadrille series and I may even have listed some wrong ones. I claim Bermudaful scenery outside my window as an excuse….but the poem stands as is 🙂

Bermuda Beautiful

lillian35 Comments

Liquid joy
blues beyond belief.
Gaze on her,
feast your eyes.
Aquamarine, royal, teal,
sea colors, her crown.

Kiskadee
yellow warbler sings.
Loquat trees
bear gold fruit.
Island nation taunts my pen,
tell them if you can.

History,
railway trails of old,
limestone ruins,
painter’s muse.
Twenty-two miles, end to end,
only half-mile wide.

Soul soother
slower pace of life.
Welcome rain,
next day’s tea.
Bermudean tapestry,
your blues steep my joy.

img_3028IMG_3688

800px-Bermuda_roof

Amaya is hosting dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to write a shadorma: a poem with 6-line stanzas with the following syllabic count for the lines: 3-5-3-3-7-5. We are in Bermuda for a month — our fourth year to do this. The waters surrounding this beautiful island country really defy description in terms of their colors. And the yellow kiskadee’s song is exactly like its name: kiss-ka-dee, kiss-ad-dee. Because Bermuda has no aquifer, rainwater is collected in a ridged white-roof system that drains into each home’s cistern located below ground. That water is then pumped up into the house, into the faucets, washing machines etc. Hence, my tea this morning is made from the latest rain storm! Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time.  I’ve also published a second shadorma today, more in line with the term itself…in the shadows of a grave yard. 

Shadorma in the Grave Yard

lillian20 Comments

family
mom, dad, son
me, last born
they waited nine years for me
now they wait again

mist hovers
floats above their graves
hushes sounds
muffles grief
head bowed, I know they miss me
I whisper, not yet

A shadorma written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Amaya is our host today and explains that a shadorma is a syllabic poem consisting of six-line stanzas, each stanza defined in lines of 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllables. She asks us to be motivated by the title of the form and perhaps write about “fog, the paranormal, or the unexplained phenomena of death and life. ” I’ve also posted a second shadorma, Bermuda Beautiful. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!

Want Ad

lillian38 Comments

Needed
super heroes
the twenty-four-seven variety.
Requires
kindness, empathy,
a listening ear,
open heart and mind.
Willingness to wear another’s shoes.
Must self-identify with humanity
not gender, race,
ethnicity, education,
or place of origin.
We need you,
now.

I’m hosting dVerse today and asking folks to think about the words “super hero” and “super power(s)” and write a poem that is somehow related to or motivated by those words. The words themselves may or may not be in the poem. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come on over to read some super posts!

Revelation

lillian28 Comments

Bermuda mesmerizes.
Breeze ruffles tall grass,
erases footsteps.

Timeworn calcarenites protrude,
seaside sentinels
revealed in low tide glory.

I stand gazing.
And somehow
in this raw natural place,

understanding dawns.
You are with me,
my forever love.

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today it’s OLN….Open Link Night. Post any one poem of your choice. Yes, we are in Bermuda, until April 6th. Photos from Tobacco Bay, one of our favorite places here, about a 10 minute walk from our rental in St. George. Bermuda never disappoints!

s/he

lillian23 Comments

dear totto,
georgia on my mind.

androgynous. severe. erotic.
enigma of your times.
independent by design,
plainspoken in style.

red canna. female genitalia?
we think, you denied.

energized by the big apple,
southwest weathered and drawn.
artist who became,
photographers’ canvas.

middle name unknown to most.
artistry praised by many,
alive beyond your death.
i remain,

an admirer

 

 

 

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today, Bjorn asks us to write a letter poem. S/he is inspired by my visit yesterday to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, MA to see a Georgeia O’Keefe exhibit. Photos above all appeared in the exhibit, in addition, to one erotic nude photo of her (taken by Stieglitz), behind a very sheer curtain. Her middle name was Totto. These are all photos of her. You may be familiar with her abstract depictions of brightly painted flowers and leaves. Feminists believed her red canna flower series were abstract representations of famale genitalia, which she adamantly denied. She is also famous for her landscapes of the Southwest. Post written in all lower case, to exemplify her simplistic clothing choices and style. 

She moved to New York City and married Stieglitz, a famous photographer who would take over 300 photos of her. Midway through their marriage, she began to travel between New York City and New Mexico. When Stieglitz died in 1946, she moved soon thereafter, permanently, to New Mexico. She was also good friends with the famous American photographer, Ansell Adams. I would love some day, to visit the Georgia O’Keefe museum there. 

Big City Haibun

lillian23 Comments

She returned to her new home, a big city after Iowa. Good day at new job, alone with glass of wine in hand, the familiar chair feels comfortable. Staring at unpacked boxes, lacking energy, two unfamiliar items come into view. Walking closer, she eyes them more intently.

Two dirty, half coiled, frayed bungee cords sit atop an unopened box. Bungee cords? Metal steel curved hooks on dirty elastic cords. Quietly she hurried out the door.

partridge returns to nest
canine impressions mar one egg
nervous feathers flair

Haibun written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today we’re asked to write about an emotion without naming it — evoking it by the use of objects and imagery.  Haibun: prose that cannot be fiction, followed by a haiku. The prose describes what happened, before my husband joined me in Boston, on my second or third day in our new condo.  We moved here from Iowa. Turns out, some workers had entered our unit, without permission, to do some work….and realized they were in the wrong unit. I got security to do a thorough walk-through with me and then found out what happened. Needless to say, I received many apologies from management and I’m happy to say, we’ve lived safely and happily ever since.