Monday, May 22, 2017

Brush strokes of grey


some nights, it falls 
cankerous 
roar of crackling firework
hiss of the breaking glass
vicious splat by car tires 

but this late afternoon
rains are gentle puddles
freshly squeezed
coating sky with oil pale hues
sounds of melancholy drift
linger
bittersweet as ruby grapefruit





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille, Hosted by Victoria Slotto ~  This is a 44 word post with the word SOUND.  Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Today, I let the light in-



the sun is a milk-cotton daisy
blooming along side glorious tulips

              i will not count
              creases on my forehead

the sky sings a breezy fruity tune-
while dandelions sip yellow tea 

             i will not rue
             emerging strays of white hair

the wind brings lake's salty tears-
seed pods open, spraying golden grains

             i will not bother
             creaming my wrinkled hands 

the trees are shimmering glassy chandeliers 
covering cracks, like leavening on dry crust- 
             
             i am grateful -
             another day of beginnings




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Come and Join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.




Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Dallying time




you rise
tasty as thin curls of butter
swooning beside fresh bread

even if you lather
liverworts on your mane
silk of your skin is warm as honeycomb-

i taste 
pink clouds, velvet moon under your arms-
i drown in cotton eyes of dandelions-  

forget the weeds- 
time is filling up our cups with corals, 
salmon sunsets & perfumed apple cider-

your beauty 
is a melodious cupcake-
let me sit awhile & pen you a song- 



Flowering Crab Apple Trees


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Sensory Play - Poetics handled by Mish ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, May 15, 2017

Hungry eyes



The recipe is not a secret as we got the recipe from the internet.  My hubby concentrates on preparing the finely ground beef with garlic, sprinkling of soy sauce and red wine.   He mixes the meat with vegetables- carrots and peas, with tomato paste.  I concentrate on peeling, boiling and mashing the potatoes with butter and cream.  In the pyrex, he layers the cooked meat and vegetables carefully.  I pile up the mashed and creamy potatoes, until the pyrex is filled up.    It is ready to be baked crisp as Shepherd's pie.   

It's the teamwork that makes it delicious.  I can make a dish tastier that this but its all my effort.  When it comes to cooking, making it together makes the dish extra special.   


hungry eyes of the moon-
spring trees blossom with  
flowering pink scents 



Posted for D'verse poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~  Thanks for the visit~ 

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

4 buckets of soil

i.
pecking on soggy soil
a black bird's eyes
shines silvery
  as flowering moon


ii.
soil is fire
blazing green and yellow
  daffodils on my hair
  dandelions on my wrist
flaming tulips rise,
with peplum skirts 


iii.
fresh tang of spice roots,
sharp claws of herbal leaves
& plum skin of ripe tomatoes-
  this soil is wine & bread


iv.
leave me
rain-soiled & kiss-smothered by flowers
in this spring dance-



Posted for D'verse Poets pub ~ Soil Poetics handled by Bjorn Rudberg ~  Thanks for the challenge Bjorn !

Monday, May 8, 2017

at a garden show, if all we see is




one frame- all black and white
unrippled of contradictions
flatlined in dust 

we'll be 
blind to spontaneous outbursts,
deaf to echoes of dissent

all flowers, stilted monotone
all trees, uninteresting as street lights-

and garden -
boring place to visit

show me 
your true{true} colors




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - Hosted by De Jackson ~   This is a 44 word post with the word - ECHO ~  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST ~

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Two girls giggle over





pouch of dandelions
   newly plucked -  stars


sprigs of green, bouquets of
   flowers - sun-dried


white eyelets, pink posies
   gathered on mounds


this park bench is lark, bed,
   secret garden


of imagination-
   as gulls swallow


last cup of dimming light
   and half-sliced moon




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST ~  Thanks for your visit ~

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Beyond the pearls & blur-




he gives her a bouquet of red roses
one dozen in full bloom, she presses her nose
for sweet perfume, as she sits on her quilt
but what tingles her spine as she inhales - guilt

she starts to undress, scattering red petals
amidst their bed as passion pours & settles
like rainclouds, his lips shouting love, my love! 
but in her mind, she heard get rid of!

his lies taunt her, like poisoned white wine
songs & gifts that he gave someone else- brine
she can taste it - enough of this deception, no more!
she'll snare him first, as she grabs roses from floor

madness came on thorns of the red roses 
... striking, hitting, carving- as he discloses      
feathery promises until his blood stains white
sheets so bright, in the grim of midnight

here's a solitary rose in bloodied hands
the room's a river of black purple sands
she gets what she wants -beyond the pearls & blur   
a perfect offering:   his heart only for her- 





For D'verse Poets Pub - Dramatic Monologues hosted by Kim M. Russell ~  Thanks for the visit ~
This is an old poem I wrote back in 2011, which I have revised to have a rhyming couplet ~  

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

The grapevine in the forest



i heard the gossip

under the shades-
   sneaky & stealing neighbors
kind & helpful friends
   errant kids & strangers on the prowl

over the wall, 

exchanges of motherly notes
   and recipes for home made remedies- 
nerdy friends busy 
   as mushrooms sending messages-

behind the fence, 

chatterboxes filled with stories  
   from friends across the field-
news of birth & spring parties
   of wild blue flowers-
clack of knitting needles as 
   children nod off to sleep-

between two ancient mothers

"a family is moving in tomorrow."
"let's prepare a nice dish."
"and big welcome banner!"
"we trees need to stick together!"





Inspired by Ted Talk's Suzanne Simard:  How Trees Talk to Each other 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Community - Hosted by Paul Dear ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, April 24, 2017

spring fever

tides roar
chests charging skyward-  
spring fever is on



finger buds rising
greening fields-
wild flowers frolicking by feet
of trees-
raindrops scenting faces  
of tulips- 
birdsongs everywhere-



tiny cherry blooms unveiling
delicate parasols, pink eyelets



I am stilled
in the arms of beauty





Sakura viewing at High Park
Grace@EverydayAmazing


Posted for D'verse poets Pub - Quadrille ~  44 word post, with the word STILL.   Join us when the pub doors open by 3 pm EST.  Thank you. 

Thursday, April 20, 2017

postcard from the northern sky





we share buttered toast 
         and warm mugs of coffee & tea

sky is blazing storm 
         colorful stardust, weaving of lights

over mountains with ancient trails
         and lakes, silent choir of blue

we are awed by sacred-
         swept by immeasurable tides-  

universe's sky dance
         a glimpse of heaven's door-

and you- 
         wish we can stay here forever- 
        

Aurora Over the Alberta Sky
Picture credit:  here


Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub - A late entry for De's postcard prompt ~
Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST ~  Thanks for the visit ~


I will be travelling to Alberta this summer and I can't wait to see the mountains and lakes.

Monday, April 17, 2017

haibun: fear of falling





it was a narrow wooden plank, between the small boat and the shore's platform.   my friends keep on egging me that it is safe to cross over.  but fear is stalking my spine, cold rivulets of sweat on summer day.   my mind sees a long bridge with no tightropes to hold on to.   i fear falling over to the water as my balance is off, and i am not a good swimmer. i fear falling ignominiously before the crowd.   i breathe deeply and request for help, to steady my jelly knees.  the boatman moors the boat closer to the edge of the steady platform.  i take another deep breath and make the last few steps to safety.


spring wind lashes
with rage, tiny pink buds tiptoe-
ballerinas on the beam-



"We are afraid of the enormity of the possible". Emile M. Cioran


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday - Hosted by Toni (Kanzensakura) ~  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

pop sonnet: every piece of me



We dive straight from pale sky to frozen sea
Where the past throbs above tides, flash of blue
Glints with champagne eyes, lips kissed by wild tea
The moon song is flammable, heady brew

Hold me tight, not a space, before we crash
land to reality, our messy banes -
Old clock ticks, breaking your glass in hot flash-
Night is sweet, and I drown in you again-

Why am I such a fool smitten maiden?  
I wish I didn't need your every kiss, sigh
Chasing and courting favors, I flayed
At edges, fragile and I don't know why

Tell me, if this insane love's a tragedy 
Unbind me!  Why are you my clarity?



Remixed lyrics from Zedd, Clarity


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Pop Sonnets hosted by Kim M. Russell. We take a modern song and spin it into a sonnet form in this style, Pop Sonnet.     I haven't written the sonnet form in a while so I am a bit rusty.   Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST with your sonnets.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

throes of early spring



leaves are delicate rust
    mulched in sepia

as carpet of tendrils
   rise, underfoot 

every bud is heady
    as spring roars, steps

into the view, from bridge
   to field of weeds -

overhead, sloping hills
   tides flow, taking troubled

waters away, to breeze's sway
    my dress of green

and bucket of seeds, ready
     to garden, we dig

as butterflies, with tiger-striped
      hues, flutter wings, so new 



At Riverwood Conservation
By Grace @ Everyday Amazing




Song in my Mind:   Bridge Over Troubled Waters, No. 1 in 1970 by Simon and Garfunkel 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub -  Poetics is Oldies but Goodies, hosted by Lillian ~  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Blue-eyed spring

amidst sepia leaves
and white-ash twigs
spring sun rises at last

skirt me green
with thumbs so new
dewdrops slip from my crown-

drizzle me blue
deep shade of lake
pregnant with reverance

and I'll spin
stars, cotton wishes
and spice, roasted by sun-



Blue-eyed wild flower, Riverwood



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - With Host Mish ~  This is a 44 word post with the word DRIZZLE ~  Spring is finally in our part of the world !

Thursday, April 6, 2017

A pen(ny) for distraction



I dance with shadows
   and gather figments of last night's dream
To the beat of syllables
   I compose & decompose   

Don't strangle me if you're lost for words
   or stab my feet if you're angry

I ink your letters in a hurry
   Spill your secrets in a diary
Doodle your daydreams in paper
   Carve names on walls of skyscraper

My skin maybe cheap as plastic
   But my breath is blue

I nibble stardust while
    you ponder on just the right word
And when I'm inspired, pour sweet
    distractions all over the page



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Taking another stab at Lillian's anthropomorphism prompt.   Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Sand castles





you with piper's song-
    a bait or hook
    or moonlight serenade
you with the smallest frame
but the brightest of fire in your belly 
you with patience of thousand coral reefs
you with lilies in your mouth
sculpting sands
    blade by blade
    each crevice, a soft bed
    each ridge, a mountain
you with your mating call
you a perfect suitor
under the sea of silver-blue
an aria of sweet waves
you with our love nest
                      -it's p(uffy)erfect!









There is a video of the fish making this intricate sand sculpture here.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Lillian ~ We are anthropomorphizing today.    Give an animal or object human characteristics such that it behaves like a human.
Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, April 3, 2017

Shadows



Skeletons in the family's closet have always been part and parcel of my father's family history.   However through time and forgiveness, wounds have been repaired. My grandmother was a fine example of casting aside shortcomings and shadowy misdeeds, and emerging with strong hands but kind heart.  Her rough and gruff voice still rings, even though she has been gone years ago.  Dying at 93 years old, she was very frail and bedridden, far from the spirited grandmother I knew.   She once confided to my husband, that she wanted to die already at around 70 years old. By then, she has lost her husband, one child and all her siblings.   Her black eyes were piercing, with sadness, with shadows too long to see.   This long life is a curse. 


spring buds, delicate
fingers curl against palm of leaves-
chickadees nimble-dance-





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Toni (kanzensakura) ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Cloudy with needy eyes

you're the sail wind's whisper
at first spring's blush

i inked you to my hands
from dawn to dusk

your every squeak, flashing lights
my screen time, life-

you ate up all my space
chewed pictures, thoughts

and blurted them to friends, foes 
anyone - like, love, share

you became bed, pillows
smooching my face

'til i broke up all bonds
misery, my lot-

in social media sea
disconnected

though i'm an octopus 
holding 8 gadgets

i float with needy eyes
near, far, nowhere-      

Credit:  here

Posted for D'verse poets pub - MTB hosted by Frank Hubeny ~  We are tackling irony in our poems. Joins us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Symmetry in Threes



rising in early spring
i grow with milky eyes
nestling amidst a whorl of 3 leaves

sharing the forest floor with ostrich ferns,
and wild ginger, my three-pointed bloom
a trinity of beauty

under shades of blue ash trees
my scent of lemon oil, alluring 
even as i droop by summer, i'm pink, pink, pink





Note:  large flowered trillium is the provincial flower of Ontario, Canada.  


Posted for D'verse poets Pub - Poetics hosted by Mish.  We are writing from nature's point of view ~  Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Tea (or whatnot), for two





in our
bowls of unruly peas 
and petulant teabags

my spoon's a balloon
lifting spaghetti noodles
from pink pot

i add
dreadlocks of cheese
and pockets of rose salt

my hands twist canister
of pepper&spice
where single bay leaf
blooms flavor

playful spring-
(burp)



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille with host De Jackson ~  This is a 44 word post with the word BALLOON.  Come and play when the pub opens at 3pm EST.   Thanks for the visit~ ~

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Spawning the river


I.
When I am thirsty
I travel to drink in
This river of words –
Sun is ink, stones are parchment
I grow fins and kelp
Writing fishy tales    

II.
When I am in despair
I jog down to the river
Tasting sadness, chewing its edges
Swallowing bone and liver,
I wash it down with the blessings of trees
And leave, on river’s belly,
Single red feather


III.


When my tongue is dry
With crackers and oats
I go to the river to wash
Wildflowers are soap
Mushroom and moss are towels
Grit falls away, I am pink with lilies

Posted for D'verse poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments. 

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Red River


I run through heart of the land, muddy, brackish, moving birch canoes, from dawn to dusk.    


i hang a red dress 
its folds billowing spiritual dance 

along grainy shores  

forked by roots of ancient trees 
i burn sagebrush

and i


count the years passing

of voices forever silenced 
stolen sisters, missing daughters-

only heartbeat of river remains-


I crawl with broken bones, washing away blood, footprints, sun-scarred skin under dark moon.   



Each year, dozens of Canadian Aboriginal women are murdered or disappear never to be seen again. Some end up in a river that runs through the heart of Winnipeg.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics:  The River, hosted by guest host, Paul Dear.   And Happy World Poetry Day!   Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Blue impressions



dawn is a chimera
mixing the star lights
with birthing hour of light



quick is the rising mist -
blurring of sapphire, glint of topaz stones,
fragment of powdery clouds, shimmer of moth-wings 



here is the moment:
teardrop lingers in moon's eye
lash
frozen in frame
as giant wave
curling
cresting before crashing
into field of cornflowers



milk-spilled sky mingles with
dandelion-wrinkled rain-



I'm wrapped in drifting leaves
as i drive into city's white noise
serene as lake 





            Vetheuil In The Fog


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

Monday, March 13, 2017

A song clip


you're the refrain
my heart pings to
on a slow dance

the steady string 
at my kite's end 
bidding me - fly!

the woody arms 
when eaves are howl-
ing violins-

you're the steady tap- 
words beneath words-
pull of spring wind
beneath my steps-



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word SPRING.
Thoughts while watching a lovely couple, our close friends, renew their wedding vows last Saturday (25th anniversary)~  Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Five lighthouses on darkness


i.
thunder crackles sky-
wind picks up howling lament-
my lips bleed - darkness -

ii.
i taste darkness, briny-
stow me on boat, dandelion
weaving between stones-

iii.
brittle stone of ice-
teeth of unforgivin sins
claw deep, darkness,
a seed

iv.
bells are silent-
weeping willows in darkness
as I wave goodbye-

v.
sweep tower 
of bats
and darkness 
reefed with Dead man's fingers-



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Gayle ~  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit ~

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

a building blueprint



here in corner,
facing east, dig up dirt
whale-width, length
of yellow submarine

pile sands and silt
layer walls honey-burnt 
by bees, and floors
sea-tiled, cool grass on feet

roof, tumbleweeds 
piled high like warm pancakes 
with fresh butter-
our hands itch for books, pen



build me sunrooms
at every nook- there, here 
where light brims pool
of spring blooms, shrubs, herbs, greens-



At late moonrise
Under the cupid's bow,
I raise my glass
wine toast for you & me



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - DIY Building by Guest Host Sara McNulty ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, March 6, 2017

Forest walk



We come here, from the metropolis, with giant's footprints.  

The hike is narrow, dirt trodden path with sign posts.   Up and up, the path runs along shallow caves of pre-historic years.   Shrubs and saplings crisscross with pine and spruce trees.  Here nature designs her own house - from limestone cliffs to soap-washed out ledges, to the jewelled crowns  of maple and oak trees.  Gnarled roots stand out along the way, thick and grubby.   Moss and wild flowers frolic, their leaves running zig-zag, then tumbling down the hills.  The air is cool, heady with scents of fallen leaves and rain.  The heart of the forest beats, steady slow hum, weaving with maverick trills and caws carried by wind.      

We leave the conservation area, conquered by green bath of forest.  Small creatures, bubbling with dew and birdsongs.

autumn leaves pile bed 
of silence- as birds of prey
climb peak cliffs, screeching-





Posted for the D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday is hosted by Kanzensakura ~  The theme is forest bathing ~  In 1980, the Japanese began a type of healing/meditation/relaxation process called shinrin-yoku (森林浴) or literally, forest bathing. Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Lost garden



his heart's a thistle, sparse skin and dry.   today, his eyes are moody blue when he is stuck in the room all day.  the suffocation is real, like someone is stepping on his fragile chest, when all he wants to do is be a balloon, untied touching the sky.  his tortured thoughts haunt him, a scar unseamed, a whispered scream.

during school's lunchbreak, he escapes with a walk around the block.  there is a slight drizzle overhead, hint of cloudy night.  the air is cool and damp, scent of trees soothing his nerves.   in a corner, he sits down to watch the pigeons haggling over breadcrumbs. some grey pigeons stand overhead the wires and roof tops like sentinels looking down at the streets. an idea brews on his head, an image stretching into infinity of patterns.   he takes his pen and draws what his mind is echoing, in fast paced strokes.   for a few minutes, he is a river, gliding with fish and tadpoles, absorbed with his artwork.   now he is a tiny insect, crawling diligently beneath layers of soil, grains and seeds.     his fingers inked with markings, he smiles.   his chest is all mushy now, filled with trills, caws and sunny leaves of a lost garden.



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Prose Poem by host, Frank Hubeny ~  Try your hand in writing one when the pub opens at 3pm EST ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Box of watches



time set in stone
carapace of lost sky
kept in box sewn
hours of day-sighing 

fortnight of songs
minutes of fibs, glitches
seconds of fear
bands around old watches

i pour sands, stars
and throw the key away-




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics about Memento by Mish ~  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, February 27, 2017

Squiggly by fireflies





here is home-
windows turning to clouds
warmed by steaming chicken broth

couch holding storybooks
with giant hands and feet

walls squiggly-marked with pink-
beds giggled-soft by pillows-

floors hiding burpy 
belly laughter

and ceiling lights- 
fireflies
bright as wiggling-balloons
going 
up
& away




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word post with the word GIGGLE.  Come and join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Hosted by De Jackson.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Vellichor


under vermilion sky,
you're rhapsody between 
heartbeats & raindrops

drip...drip...drip ....

longing for home
that i can't return to-
that i can't traced back-
a drizzled map, between 
book markers & side margin notes,
unfolds as i unwind clocks 

click...click...click ....

vellichor
this longing wells
for your fingers
scented of sepia ink
running along my spine 
and fragile pages

burn...burn...burn ....





Title*  From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, you'll find words you won't find in a traditional dictionary yet.... like "Vellichor" ("The strange wistfulness of used bookshops, which are somehow infused with the passage of time......) 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight ~  I am pleased to be your host when the pub opens at 3pm EST ~  Thanks for the visit ~


-

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

From end to end



over silt and stones, river runs
carrying smell of wood and pine-
silver mirror under midday sun

ducks promenade around farms 
as icy path breaks, shattered twine
over silt and stones, river runs

along familiar shores, stealthy as wind
teasing spring weather across fields
bone-silver under midday sun

every season, we cross over fallen logs 

as birds leave their nests and glide
over silt and stones, river runs

carrying songs from our past

weaving sugarcane & corn stalks to
golden mirror under midday sun

here, i start and end, with lungs

rooted with grains and seeds.  i tread
over silt and stones, the running river 
& i, mirrors facing under midday sun-



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Suburban Poem by Guest Host, Oloriel ~  Villanelle poetry form ~  I moved to the city (and country) but I have friends who have never left their small towns, preferring to retire in the same place, where we grew up.   
Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, February 20, 2017

Morning duet


We walk, inhaling the cool winter morning.  The last two days teased us with spring-like warmth, curling our toes in anticipation of the first blooming of magnolias.  Nearby, dogs run excitedly towards the dog park.  We amble towards the wooden bridge, careful of the snow-crusted grass.   Over the bridge, we witness a family of ducks, busily combing the grass and shallow waters for food.  Even with bare trees and melting ice-path, nature serenades a peaceful hymn.  


grey dove hums above
tree with red thistle ends-
sun crackles - first note-




Dove from this morning's walk


Posted for Haibun Monday - The Best Things in Life are Free- Hosted by Toni Spencer (Kanzensakura).   Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.