Tag Archives: Haiku
Green leaves shush each other,
in the gossip and the celebration
that will take place;
sometimes in loud applause
with the forceful incoming
The sun and the moon are complicit;
getting ready for the seasons fall
—In pageantry and bright colors
before winter candles are lit;
to read by and catch the glow
on the faces by the fireside
and smile with the rewards
of another year, gone by.
the leaves are laughing
giddy all spring and summer
sleep gently tonight
Aug. 28th, 2020: Quar
I am not a keeper of records or memories. Nor, of cream and curds mixed with fantasy and the absurd. As if… it is like yesterday or yester-year! I never know today or the future clear.
There is a presence in the keeper’s mind of your absence; in the “tock” of time or the “tick” of our heartbeat that brings us closer, in each disappearing day.
the rose is a scent
that wants to be remembered
Aug. 29th, 2020: Quar
There are storms and floods
covering the shallows
disparaging the un-holy;
while the righteous soil
absorbs the water.
And emerges as just another flower,
in the garden.
During these times:
We are looking for monks, brothers, and sisters who live, eat, and teach in our neighborhoods.
Instead we find a High Order of Holy Administrations that accepts, for the propagation of our core beliefs in each other, Alms… that prop up ancient Architectural structures to modern day Mansions; that feast in its symbolic understanding. Accepting tidings and spending them as a profit from a ticket purchased to Paradise, Angels, and reconciliation and if you double your offer, they’ll include free shipping.. Some admit it’s a raffle; 1st. place, Heaven. 2nd. place, Purgatory, 3rd. place Hell. 4th. Place, stay alive and pay twice.
We are looking for the monks, brothers, and sisters who live, eat, and teach in our neighborhoods. That understands the Holy spiritual path to community without compensation or lack of dogmatic male compliance.
it’s a cloudy day
winds are changing tomorrow
sun not far behind
I understand why some shutter their windows
But, they eventually need
to let the sun in, to shine through
Looking at the stones I placed around my small flower garden, I noticed this particular one, quite larger than the other ones, was placed in the middle and on top of the small stone wall. It caught my attention as it transformed into a focus that became clearer as I paid attention.
I saw my history from childhood to my children appear and diminish as another transition appeared.
I couldn’t take my eyes from the story-teller stone. Until it all passed, and I could focus, again on my garden.
appearance in Spring
gaiety and rebellion
settles in the fall
Aug. 24th 2020: Quar
Illness and death in a pandemic can become common place, as “Barkers” praise the immune; at the grave site of the families and friends in grief.
flowers fall to ground
as insects chew thru the stem
I opened the door at dusk and caught a good size flash
of white fly in ahead of me.
I close the door and I’m still not sure
if it was a big moth or Tinkerbelle…
The plants wave and sway when I sit down among them, often, even without a breeze. At dusk, at that time, they do get a little bold, as their suitors are asleep counting their blessings..
From dandelions, petunias, coleus, other’s that I threw the tag away at planting, and of course, the neighboring wild daisies; we all seem to have a mutual understanding for each other.
As sunset glows, stopping to affirm our relationship, a humming bird stops by and takes a sip of summer’s last flowers. And as a card in the spokes of a bicycle, flies away as loud as a snore.
crickets rejoice night
settling the day gracefully
Love is an illusion (friendship is instinctive), be just like me or perish (enjoy diversity), only self-serving interests (sharing and participating in another’s), laughing at calamity (understand and re-structure) …
…Love, the unimaginable truth, and its Divinity to commune with understanding family and neighbor, that creates quilted communities, is real. No material of its fibers and colors are independent of itself; unless it stands alone void of inclusion.
Less we push It into something abstract that dis-avows it. Love is not a contract, it’s an allegiance; morally and with mutual integrity that displays Itself, as an outward sign of friendship. Set to become the binding mystery of Love.
August is lazy
stillness does not seek a fight
an agreement made
the leaves flirt with the moon in a summer breeze,
flickering light between trees;
as I remembered our first kiss.
Now, here we sit, in our distance
without romance or adventure.
We sip our home-grown tea.
Flower without sun
Light without darkness of moon
Wilts in self-pity
Who puts a half piece of toast with jelly and peanut butter in the refrigerator at midnight, after eating half of it, ten minutes before?
lightning bug dims
in the light of yesterday
story still untold
So, You told me life never ends. Yet, you want me to sign a contract in blood, with my soul nailed to a post from my past; as you fiddle in hate and roast us in hell.
You promised redemption and Angels for brides! And we would be received to life after. But what are you doing for us now? Without blood, anger or flood to keep our heads above water?
what season is light
when darkness seems to prevail
in hearts without love
QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]