lost

Posted on September 21, 2018 by

Written for:  Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge September 2018 Chained Together III (11) the dim glow of a campfire – (Quote from a Japanese novelist)

[…] “He felt so lost, he said later, that the familiar studio felt like a haunted valley deep in the mountains, with the smell of rotting leaves, the spray of a waterfall, the sour fumes of fruit stashed away by a monkey; even the dim glow of the master’s oil lamp on its tripod looked to him like misty moonlight in the hills.”[…]

© Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

“I wrote the two lined stanza to work with inspired on the above quote of Akutagawa Ryūnosuke (1892-1927)”

Haunted valley deep in the mountains
The dim glow of a campfire

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

scent of sour fruit
ill from stench of rotting leaves
where does it come from?

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/

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deluge

Posted on September 21, 2018 by

Written for:  Carpe Diem’s Brainteaser #1 Introduction and first challenge

In this new feature I love to explore other “special” haiku forms like “Pi-ku” and for example the “Acrostic haiku”.

For this first episode of “Carpe Diem’s Brainteaser” I love to challenge you to create an “acrostic” haiku. What does that mean “acrostic”? Well an “acrostic” haiku looks like this:

Sweet memories
Under the old apple tree
Newly weds

©️ Chèvrefeuille

You take a word (in the above example “sun”) and with the separated letters from that word you have to create a haiku. Here is another example, this time the word is “one”:

Only eyes for you
Naked she lays down on the beach
Everlasting love

©️ Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

Deluge tragedy
Open floodgates destroy homes
Gone are lives you’ve built

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/

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The Inattentive Husband

Posted on September 21, 2018 by

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads – Fireblossom Friday:  Say The Word

English is a funny language. A lot of it came from other languages, and some of those words retain their foreign sound. Some remain foreign and not strictly English at all, but are used much in the manner of “Voila!” Moreover, some of them roll off the tongue very poetically, it seems to me. Even without knowing what they mean, they just sound cool. Add the meaning, and it’s pretty much nerd heaven.

What I want you to do is to take one of the following words and build a poem around it. Don’t just jam it in some place where it sticks out like a sore thumb. Make the word you choose central to your poem. I think we may get some interesting results. Write, link, enjoy!

The words:

1. Schadenfreude. (German) The experience of joy, pleasure, or self-satisfaction that comes from the learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures or humiliation of another.

2. Bete Noire. (French) A person or thing that one particularly dislikes.

3. Sturm Und Drang. (German) Storm and stress.

4, Saudade. (Portuguese) A deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves.

5. Mox Nix. (German) Bastardization of “Es macht nichts”, used by American GI’s in WWII Europe to mean “It doesn’t matter” or “It makes no difference.” Some of them brought the phrase home with them.

6. Fahrvergnugen (German) Driving pleasure. Used in 1990 ads for Volkswagen automobiles. “Say the word!” I got the whole idea for this post from listening to a tape I made of songs off the radio from around 1990. Amid the Howard Jones and Toto songs were ads featuring “Fahrvergnugen” (for VW) and Joe Isuzu, not to mention Tubby’s Submarines “No Place For Wimps.” So I ran with it.

 

Purple or red?
“Mox Nix.”
Mox Nix, Mox Nix–that
is your standard
answer. You must have
an opinion. What about
my hair, dare I cut it?
“Mox Nix.”
You are not even looking
at me. If you were
to pack your bags,
and leave tonight–
Mox Nix to me.

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

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My Soup Runneth Over

Posted on September 20, 2018 by

Written for:  Miz Quickly – Complete in Itself

Write between five and fourteen lines (one poem, or more than one), and let every line be complete in itself.

That’s not always a complete sentence. Though you want every line to be a worker and not just the child of a capitalist pig. Each line needs to carry something.

This is subjective.
If I were to write “a pickle jar,” you would have some idea of what I was thinking about, if not what I intended. It’s not a poem, not by itself, but it might do for a line. If I wrote “can,” or “blow,” or “steps,” I wouldn’t be bringing much to the party. On its own, “runs awkwardly” isn’t a whole thought, but might suggest enough to be a line. “Can’t dance” is iffy at best.

Oh, and two fragments with no connection don’t necessarily make a thought.

Every stitch in time saves
extra preparation later on.
Dinner time is nigh.
More water goes into the pot,
soup for extra guests.
Too many cooks.
The broth will be spoiled,
dogs lie in wait.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2018/09/19/complete-in-itself/#more-5935

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I Get It!

Posted on September 20, 2018 by

Written for:  Poetic Asides #454 – I Get _______

I get it!
Do not repeat it,
understand?
I will use
less hot sauce in the gumbo.
Next time, no fire trucks.

 

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Big Top Doings

Posted on September 19, 2018 by

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics:  “Come to the Circus!”
(posted by SarahSouthwest) – Write a poem about the circus.

Red balloon nose
shoes with big toes
high wire acts
scary big cats
peanuts, popcorn
whistles and horns
a jolly fat lady
singing like crazy
lion tamers in top hats with whips
custard ice cream cones that drip
elephants dressed up and prancing
not known for spectacular dancing
Here is Zenobia, tarot card reader
Many see her but do not heed her
The smell of horse shit is nauseating,
for the cleanup crew it’s humiliating.
Hope the circus was all you imaged,
there are no refunds, do not be saddened.

 

https://dversepoets.com/

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stone steps

Posted on September 18, 2018 by

Written for:  The Twiglets #94 – “stone steps”

down to the crypt
on steps of stone

 

Will you be my
stepping stone?
I will buy you
an ice cream cone.

 

Steps in disarray
leaning this way and that
stoned again

 

He was a stone mason’s apprentice
whose questions were relentless
Said the boss, “see those stones?
Work on them all alone.”
The apprentice slipped and became non compos mentis

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

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Restore

Posted on September 18, 2018 by

Written for:  Miz Quickly – Two Word, “carry me”

Restore my senses
to carefree clarity

Carry me on your shoulders,
Dad, down to the hem
of ocean foam, like you did
when I was a child.

Restore my senses
to carefree clarity

This onus I bear
wearies me, weigh
-lays me down. I am
not that feather
-weight; you are no longer here.

Restore my senses
to carefree clarity

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/author/mizquickly/

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Different Endings

Posted on September 18, 2018 by

Written for:  Poetings Bloomings2 – Prompt#215 – “And I Quote” – Installent #2
How is the impossible even possible? We wonder if we are capable to achieve great things because they seem daunting, haunting our every thought and action. “What’s the use?” we ask. We think we’re setting ourselves up for failure.

“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says, “I’m Possible!”
~Audrey Hepburn

But, take this quote from Audrey Hepburn, star of the silver screen and a World Ambassador. From humble beginnings, she rose to her status in films such as “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” “A Nun’s Story,” and “My Fair Lady,” to name a few. Once retired from acting, she took on the challenge presented by third world countries, focusing on the starving and sick children. Always charming, always a loving soul. For Audrey Hepburn, she made the impossible, possible.

So, what’s possible for you? What do you consider out of your league? What have you or do think you can achieve?? Write a “possible” poem. Or an “impossible” poem. Or a hopeful dream … something you’d like to do but haven’t yet. Something “bucket list” worthy. Impossible? Positively possible!

 

Next sand hill I occupy alone
in my dream, I fight
fear, sprout wings, fly
off that high peak. Stop.
End of dream.

Oh no! Lost again, wandering
this sad, sandy ground
with locked doors, hallway
mazes leading nowhere. Except,
now I walk tall–small me
who never can find the right
room, hallway, door–stride
up that long staircase, heels
clicking smartly.  With confidence
I step into my office, composed.
Stop. End of dream.

 

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log

Posted on September 17, 2018 by

Written for:  Haiku Horizons – “log”

log in playground
children balance, walk, and jump
was once part of cabin

https://haikuhorizons.wordpress.com/

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