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Category Archives: Poetry

Notes found on the refrigerator…June 18th. 2020 QUAR

QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]

R.K Garon

June 18th 2020 QUAR

 

Ode to my Coleus and her best friends:

 

      Oh! Coleus of majestic colors of red, yellow, and green, standing tall among the pansies and petunias.

            The pine New Hampshire mountains, as a back drop, gives the admirer a reflection in the mind. Colorful fantasies even to the blind.

black and white is stark

rainbows from dark clouds bend light

shadows disappear

******

     This time, just before dusk, I’ve noticed, on several occasions, a black butterfly. The only reason I notice it, she flutters around the sunflowers, never touching them, and just as quickly, I notice her whizzing by my ear as she flies away. “Sleep tight” I’ve heard. 

      Now, what the hell is that all about? As I said my prayers.

Chair in the garden

Flowers or vegetables

Space is required

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2020 in Existential, Haibun, Haibun, Haiku, Quarantine QUAR, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 10th. 2020

     Desire! The devil in the bottle, the glitter of gold in empty fisted hand, greed, self-adoration, and snorting the frosting on every cake.

     Often desires, overwhelms the conscience at the table of our nature. Understanding the argument, in the environment that it presents: our sub-conscious processes the outcome.

Shall we seek the truth

Desires are a bastard

Dandelions bloom

 
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Posted by on June 12, 2020 in Haibun, Poetry, Still Quarantined, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 6th. & 7th. 2020

June 6th. 2020

I was kissed by a moth in the headlights

of an oncoming car;

we both flew… out of the way.

ZQ

           

June 7th. 2020 (Sunday)

     The butterflies were flying around the flowers and blooming blackberry bushes. Fluttering about in scenes of frenzy before they landed on one of them; wings upright and still.

     With their bright colors in the noon day sun, they enjoy their nectar for lunch. Then, they flutter away; wings never stopping, across the grass and flirting with the branches of the trees. But, they never go to the top of them, with no such dreams.

nature is alive

productive and on purpose

enjoy who you are

 

 

Scribbled note:

regardless of all my perfections and ignorance, I still seek redemption, in my Sacred nature.

 
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Posted by on June 7, 2020 in Existential, Haibun, Nature, Poetry, Quarantined, Spiritual, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 5th. 2020

 a note to my children:

You were all born with an Angel on your shoulder

Disguised as a small invisible white bird.

 

Look at you now! All grown up with a smile;

And without a frown, that ultimately always shines,

As bright as the moon clears the clouds.

 

Who knew how each of you would grow up;

with your mother and I. (in each smile and frown!)

 

Love you

For ever

As you were born

Sitting on your shoulder

we heard a white bird

Which our hearts still hear.

 
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Posted by on June 6, 2020 in Children, Existential, Love, Poetry, Spiritual, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 4th. 2020

     I’ve been washing dishes since I was twelve years old. Sometimes wiping, sometimes scrubbing, and once in a while soaking. Which brings me to my current state of six spoons, four forks, and three knives. And an assorted accouterments that rattle and roll freely every time I open and close the drawer.

      To make a long story short, at seventy-four, I use one spoon a day. Then on the seventh day I have to do the dishes. I rinse one out for the day’s coffee, having run out of spoons and noticing the mess it has created during the week before, I throw it back into the suds; and begin my day of service.

shit shines every night

along with the star light bright

“dew shine”, anyone ?

 
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Posted by on June 4, 2020 in Beginnings, Existential, Haibun, Haiku, Poetry, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 3rd. 2020

two mourning doves: (haibun)

      relationships are being defined in the environment of the nest they live in.

–some in a tree with no leaves that once held dreams.— the true skeleton behind the feathers exposes its heart.

     rattling off to a branch, bones tickling each other, they wait for another Love’s morning.

sunlight drying dew

summer’s warmth removes the sheet

pillow soft asleep

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…May 28th self-quarantined since Mars was discovered

May 28th. 2020

     Be who you want to be with all its failures and success. Until you realize who you really are and that your destination is your journey.

     Then… life begins in the wisdom of understanding, acceptance, and with Blessings.

Flowers bloom in spring

Winter reaps in solid ground

Memories are now

 
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Posted by on June 1, 2020 in Beginnings, Haibun, Poetry, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…May 2020

     There came a time when I remembered where I began. To understand, that I didn’t have to start over again; to allow wisdom to tick the clock where I actually have to begin.

Time will never see

Internal world clicks the clock

Wake up from a dream

*****

 (on a lighter note)…

i played my guitar tonight

to a full house of dirty laundry.

I hope their lack of  “applause”

wasn’t reflective

of my performance. 😊

 

R.K.Garon

 

 
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Posted by on May 25, 2020 in Poetry

 

Love: as ever has been

We have watched the sunrise

below the mountains and settle behind the sea.

 

 We have ridin’ the wind,

Walked beach sands and bused to Boston.

 

 We have taken pain

To the Joy of understanding.

 

 We have taken each other

Further than any of us have ever gone;

 

 By just being present.

True to ourselves. True to each other.

 

 We have been

As we are; as ever has been.

 

~Rt. 132 North~ R.K. Garon

 
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Posted by on May 24, 2020 in Beginnings, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…April 17,18, 2020

April 17, 2020

i have no place to be going to

and with no hurry to get there

it seems, i have been here before.

 

there is no place to go

other than where i was going.

i am caged within the parameters

of whom i am.

 

my walk is slow and secure—

as I find where i am going;

with wisdom, compassion, and the knowledge

of understanding of who i am.

 

walk slowly.

 

4/18/2020

 

17 days in Q [Haibun]

     Friday afternoons are a strange time of the day for me. Sometime I skip the mornings and late-night dishes; then go out to the safest places I know. Usually to the local grocery store and buy things I’ve never bought before.

     It doesn’t take long to go about short business before I’m back in my “cave”; 4 o’clock and I’m lost on what to do. I hear the cuckoo clock in my head, telling me to go do the dishes then make myself something to eat. Again. I’m coming 😊

Wheels turn when moved

Birds fly from perch of safety

Rain shelters us all

 
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Posted by on April 18, 2020 in Haibun, Poetry, thoughts, unemployed, Zen

 

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