Tuesday, October 25, 2016

postcard: first autumn

first inhale -you are breathtaking.  a sea of colors i have not seen before.   i marvel at the bright shades of leaves shimmering like jewels under the sun.  you spark the boldness in me as you fold the long summer nights to shorter cooler days.   change can be beautiful.   you inspire me to embrace change. my second motherland, our heartbeats may not be wholly in sync for now, but i am listening to my guts.  my footprints follow your peace, gentle as autumn breeze.  
beyond the wooden bridge
maple leaves fall softly as rain -
i turn a page

Grace@ Etobicoke Creek Trail

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics;  first time hosted by Kelly Letky ~ I remember my first year in Canada many years ago - it was a season of changes.   Thanks the visit ~

Monday, October 24, 2016

Autumn sky

creek's cool air is an irresistible fragrance
as morning sun surges above grey clouds

turn me
to necklace of colors:
tangerine gold-
pink watermelon-
yellow maroon-
orange emerald-
amber tamarind-

and i'm lifted on wings of black birds
sparking a tumult against autumn sky

Grace@Etobicoke Creek Trail

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - a word count post of 44 words with the word SPARK.   Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Ten secrets

I.       You fold me
         in secret places
         with your words 

II.      I am burning red
         among yellowing leaves
         an apple
         made lusciously ripe
         by your secret thoughts
III.     The tongue itches
         prickling under thorns 
         as marauding bees descend 
         You regurgitate         
         spilling the secrets of seeds 

IV.    The taste of spice  
        of a stolen afternoon
        The music that springs
        By the strum of your hands         
        My love, the secrets we serenade to              
V.     The starlings weave
        a million of them over the lake
        a dance
        to a music
        only the wind secretly plays 

VI.    This bleeds
         inside, gaping blue despite
         your attempts to stitch it close
         Teeth, elbows, claws
         This secret lives 

VII.    Your heartbeat is my music 
         Opening me to secrets 
         of sky and faithful earth

VIII.    Kiss by kiss 
          You unwrap me
          As blackbirds flew
          Under secretive eye of the moon  

IX.     You sugarcoat it
         With cinnamon & vanilla 
         Richly layered with strawberries 
         Still the stink of your dark
         secret haunts

X.      I paint my secrets
         with autumn jewelled hues
         and seal them with beeswax-
         Death, pry them loose from my stiff hands
         and throw them to the river gorge

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenlinkNight hosted by Gayle ~  Written in the style of Wallace Steven's poem:   Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, October 17, 2016

At back alleys & underground tunnels

"The land created me. I’m wild and lonesome. Even as I travel the cities, I’m more at home in the vacant lots."  Bob Dylan

I am your failed experiment, your outcast that you hide from the tourists who flock to see the famous CN Tower and Rogers Centre.  I am the rusty car you hide at the back alleys. The one with the unpainted doors, broken hood and dirty windows.   I etch loneliness and regrets on the graffitied walls.   Under the darkness, I hobble along city streets where every space is calculated with parking meters and silver glass towers shimmering like diamonds.  Only the penguins greet me, nibbling the breadcrumbs near my feet.  I set a stained foam cup on the sidewalk and watch the tail light of cars and buses blurring out of sight.  My liquor-breath mixes with autumn's cool wind, blowing this morning's newspapers deep to the shadows.     

A lilac maple leaf falls
on the fountain, empty of water-  
while black birds count-
perched atop electrical lines  
basking under hunter's moon

Grace@Everyday Amazing

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit~

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Blowin' In The Wind

when the sky is a sphinx
and my eyes are misted grey

how many times must I fall
before I walk in my own shoes

when the road is unmarked
and scarred by stones & thick tubers

how many times must I question
before I am swept away to the sea  

when all the answers are blowing 
in the wind, rolling beyond my grasp

I listen deep to the drumbeats 
of trees, shimmering in golden jade  

and marvel the arc of falling leaves
bowing to the wind

Grace@Everyday Amazing

*Title and poem inspiration from Bob Dylan, Blowin' In the Wind

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing about Bob Dylan, the Nobel Prize winner in Literature. Come and join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.   

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

A Canadian Feast

lead me 
where the tree is a cathedral
of colors
and the sky is a river of light

where simple joys
outshine any shadows of sorrow 
stain the forest floor with 
fat cheeks of ferns, 
wild lips of flowers, 
& poised coats of mushrooms  

that I may see the 
of your brown-weathered palms-
that I may rest on your
bosom of green
and roots of serenity-

ink my pen
with dew and seed pods
from your autumn harvest

for today is a feast
of thankfulness for this good earth 

Grace@Rattlesnake Point, Milton, Ontario

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics:  A Cause for Celebration - Hosted by Walter Wojtank - Yesterday was our Canadian holiday- Thanksgiving.    

Monday, October 10, 2016

Autumn flight

sky is sun-shrouded
as birds rustle above trees

rib me not, in cotton nor fur
cool air is light on my brows

cloud me not, in rain nor fog
i'll climb until i fall

with rust-orange hues
embracing distance

between certainty 
& red river

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - a 44 word post with the word - CLOUD.   Hosted by Kim M. Russell ~  Happy Thanks giving to my Canadian friends ~  We are having a cool sun-dappled autumn day !

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Unframed arrangements

at night, i arrange
our memories, leaf by leaf
stone by pebbled stone

as if every sun-dried crevice
of shells and mollusks echo
the careless caress of your voice

but the season of emptiness
has begun - decaying anemones
along with drift wood -

brims the sand box -
smell of coarse salt & kelp
remnants of sea

amputated by riptide-
here, stillness of hermit crab's pincers
frames & palms

every floating urchin
& bleeding shark-fin carcass
into distant mirror

flat, cocooned
by diving bell spider's silk

Photography by Emily Blincoe

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Mish ~   Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.   Another poem for my prompt last week, on Arrangements from the photos of Emily Blincoe.   

Monday, October 3, 2016

Haibun: Extra(ordinary) day

I open the kitchen window to inhale the rain.  There is a sense of inevitability in the air. Like when a raven glides over the field, death on its eyes.   Like when autumn comes and starts plucking off the leaves from the trees.   I gather and pare the small potatoes, then cut and drop them in the boiling water.   Another pot is boiling with vegetables and fresh shrimps in a tamarind based soup.  While waiting for the food, I organize my garbage bags - white for food, blue for recycling and black for other trash.   Neat is good karma. Aroma of home-cooked meal is my soul's company.  The clock ticks loudly as the sun fades, taking all the pink streaks and yellow glitter from the sky. 

i dance without shoes
& sew pink in autumn leaves 
           before darkness crows 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun:   Extra(Ordinary) Days ~  I am pleased to be your host for Haibun Monday ~Come and join us when the pub opens, starting at 3pm EST.   

Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Ten ways of looking at a leaf

I.      arrange me 
        on a moon-shaped plate-
        leaf-curled -
II.     empty of seed-pods
        the leaf 
        with still water
        withered to ground

III.     night wind whistles
         as blackbirds huddle 
         above city street lines- 
         not a leaf in sight-

IV.     a yellow leaf falls
         striped, puckered by frost - 
         followed by another leaf
         bright as milkweed butterfly -      

V.      the clouds are moving -
         like bees carrying all the green 
         porcupine leaves with woolly hairs

VI.     spin-dancing leaves
         call me
         i come over and join them
VII.    your kiss,
         soft as a pine leaf         
         budding of spring 

VIII.   your face,
         a leaf
         scented by sun
         against my palms   
         my whole world 

IX.     leaf by leaf
         our memories lay
         in tidy rows
         above the black moon 

X.      i walk under shadows
         of trees
         without leaves
         without ending 

Picture credit by :   Emily Blincoe

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar, Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~ Inspired by poem of Wallace Stevens - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird ~