Canada goose glides,
scattering magic thoughts
soaring into spring
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: poem
Full Bloom Tanka
crocus embracing,
offering nectar to bees
tickling, tiny feet
petals dancing with laughter
honey blossoms with flavor
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Tanka is defined in Oak Leak Tanka. Please feel free to add your haiku or tanka here, if you are moved to join in. 🙂 In the past, Japanese poets would alternative haiku (3 lines, 5/7/5 syllables) with two 7/7 lines, playing off each other’s work. It’s fun, if you want to try.
Butterfly Moment Haibun
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
— Franz Kafka
One of the hardest realizations after college was how ordinary my days had become. The same routine, seeing the same places, meeting the same people, day after day. Occasionally, would come a butterfly moment, when ordinary transformed into extraordinary, and my inner spark could shine.
root-bound foliage
spider plant babies waterfall
glow with health
write joyfully
creating thought collage
redolent with youth
Years later, I am locked into a similar repeating pattern, day after day, mostly domestic: cooking, cleaning, overseeing homework, laundry, ad infinitum. Writing keeps me sane, and permits the daily grind to be grist for a deeper calling. Because I must write, I find 15 minutes here and there to create. Continue reading
Spirit Roams Haiku
nature fights fences
water breaks stone, mountains fall
free spirits roam
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by the Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #441, ghost-written by Managua Gunn,
in honor of International Romany Day, April 8, a holiday of which I was previously unaware.
Follow the link if you want to hear more about the Roma or the holiday.
A Walk to the Lake Haibun
Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.
– Thích Nhất Hạnh
I walked today, despite my recent recovery from norovirus and a week of not eating properly. I started off slowly, stretching sluggish muscles. My feet curved into the familiar rhythm, welcoming the soft, spongy aqueduct pathways. I headed for the lake side, wanting sunlight glinting strongly into my eyes after a winter of weak, gray light. I passed many gardens, my eyes yearning for color, a contrast to brown and gray.
seed pods straining, listening for the song of the wind
The wind did not disappoint, but sang of ocean waves. Seabirds called distantly, crows nearer. Robins quarreled over grasses. A cardinal flashed by, a scarlet blur. The air warmed to the sixties and finally snow seems truly gone. Was it icy only a few weeks ago? The sunlight made me feel alive, inside and out, and I turned upward, smile opening wide. Neither did the gardens disappoint, providing color in miniature.
saffron crocus
sunlight reincarnated
honey sweet scent
The yellow crocuses stopped me cold, so startled to see gold strewn on the ground, riches to my starved eyes. Most plants were still dormant, buds still tightly furled. Only the crocuses had thrown open the treasure box, spilling nature’s jewels. Words seem pitiful in comparison.
tiny crocus trio
blossoms dancing on breezes
music to my soul
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Dovetailed deliciously with the Ligo Haibun Challenge, Quote Week.
Also includes a new form of poem, a monoku, that I cannot tell apart from the American Sentence Haiku.
Dreaming in Cherry Blossoms
Rain patters on the roof,
While the cardinal calls:
“Birdie, birdie, birdie, birdie.”
My eyes drift closed, heavy
With disappointment at the cold,
Wet spring and the absent sun.
Azaleas flame in raspberry bursts.
The weeping cherry cries amber tears
Of swollen pollen from pale pink blossoms,
Sunshine heats the wet sidewalk,
And it breathes steamy sighs.
A mist curls up toward the blossoms.
In my dream, my two arms multiply,
Turning to wings, to feathers, to thin limbs:
To an infant, a new weeping cherry.
My long arms tremble in air currents.
The cardinal lands on my highest shoulder
Calling “Birdie, birdie,” red crest proud.
I hear again the sound of the rain,
My dry roots yearn toward the nectar
Shared by clouds, whispering of oceans.
I awake stretching my legs,
Moving freely, but stiff and cold;
Blossoms, an afterimage, on my closed eyes.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Inspired by Michelle Marie, who was longing to see cherry blossoms.
These photographs are from last spring.
Fairy Tale Clerihew
The first of Three Little Pigs
distained using twigs
and built from straw.
Big Bad Wolf laughed when he saw.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by Paint the World with Words weekly poetry prompt, a Clerihew, which is a 4-line rhyming poem, aabb, generally about a famous person introduced in the first line. Here are two famous Clerihew by the originator of the form, Edmund Clerihew Bentley:
Said Sir Christopher Wren
I`m having lunch with some men,
If anyone calls,
Say I`m designing St Paul`s.
The digestion of Milton
Was unequal to Stilton.
He was only feeling so-so,
When he wrote Il Penseroso.
References:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/clerihew
http://www.wattpad.com/31546636-the-who’s-who-of-clerihew-85-porky-pig
Still Life with Lichen
lost pinecone beds down on pine needles, ignored by lichen and moss
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This is an American Sentence Haiku.
To see my others, they are: Silent Bathhouse and Trumpets Sounding.
The Path toward Spring: Haiku Kai
past barren trees
path leads toward evergreens,
spring in infancy
earth still hard from winter’s cold
pine needles soften, endure
tender green shoots
entwined with fall memories
struggle toward sunshine
dream of golden summer warmth
tiger lily hearts leaping
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These two tanka are inspired by the Carpe Diem Haiku Kai,
and I dedicate them to Kristjaan, on the birth of his new grandchild.
Let Your Voice Ring Out
To have the sense of one’s intrinsic worth …
is potentially to have everything.
~ Joan Didion
Insight is nurtured within quiet souls. When released, it has the power to change lives. Many of my writing students have been quiet, hardworking people all their lives, devoting themselves to their families and their jobs. Many of them tell me they loved writing in high school or college, but they stopped afterwards. I encourage them to tell their stories in their own words. Today, I asked them to let their voices ring out.
Let My Voice Ring Out and Over the Earth
Let my voice ring out and over the earth,
Through all the grief and strife,
With a golden joy in a silver mirth:
Thank God for Life!
Let my voice swell out through the great abyss
To the azure dome above,
With a chord of faith in the harp of bliss:
Thank God for Love!
Let my voice thrill out beneath and above,
The whole world through:
O my Love and Life, 0 my Life and Love,
Thank God for you!
– James Tomson (1834-1882, only 48 years old…)
They do not voice complaints, and instead share their stories with trepidation, some afraid to be considered complaining or unfortunate. I don’t perceive telling the truth as complaining. I don’t greet their words with pity, but with joy. Joy to hear how strong and thoughtful they are. And joy that I have contributed in some small way to helping them find their voices.
From your well-spring of self-worth, from the source of your voice, comes all the things that make life worth living, despite the hardships, the mishaps and the worries.
let your voice ring out
let the birds startle and fly,
into the trees
Do you see the heart?
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by the Haibun Thinking Week 10, Quote Week. Thanks to the people volunteering their time to help motivate others to write.
Birthday Parties
Too much of a good thing can be wonderful.
– Mae West
We’ve had big parties, and we’ve had small. We’ve had tea parties, tumbling, laser tag, jungle gyms, hikes, fairies, butterflies, sleepovers and even a party bus that pulled up out front. One thing I’ve learned from having parties for my kids: they all make me smile, and are moments to remember.
Candles on cupcakes,
Lungs filled with air,
Wishes outnumber
Cares, on kids’ birthdays.
As the number of kids we have increases, and the number of kids’ birthdays celebrated has passed twenty, I look back with most appreciation on the smaller parties. The greater intimacy allows for capturing more of that reflected joy, bottled forever in my memory. (And fewer numbers of presents to find places for.)
For me, March is the month of spring and birthdays (two of my kids and my dad).
packages wrapped
explosions of colorful paper
expressions of love
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by the Ligo Haibun Challenge (Quote week) and Paint the World with Words (Naani poetry prompt). Thanks to the talented people volunteering their time to help motivate complete strangers to write.
Spring is Sprung
The fairies have been busy.
Under the deepest snow,
They have sprinkled vernal equinox sparkles,
And everywhere spring is springing!
Irises Hear Spring’s Song
Hyacinths Yearn toward the Sun
Crocuses Create a Green Crescendo
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Friendly Fairy Tales 