Almost Always, Haiku
In spring love might turn
If you’re there to plant with me
Almost and always
Happy Tails, Happy Trails
I grew up with cats, with
Dogs, partly with a horse
(an entire horse), some
Guinea pigs, I think, and
Fish I could not relate to
There was a rabbit (maybe
Two rabbits—you know
How they are), a rescued
Bird
I met a big snake one time
At a program with a guide;
I enjoyed petting the snake
Feeling its muscles move
Beneath the skin
I enjoyed a staring contest
With a deer across the
Yard; actually, we were
Both walking the local
Cemetery and caught, as
If to trap, each other’s eyes
The things—Scripture’s
Creeping things—with tails
Are the ones I seem to
Do best with; I suppose I
Create a cheat out of
Belief and hope that the
Ones with tails and I are
Getting along
Well, what can I say? My
Wish (I don’t think Dale
Evans Rogers would mind)—
Happy tails, happy trails
this work is incited (that is, inspired in
an especially zealous way) in part by a
delightful blog and an extraordinary
group, Three Chatty Cats, celebrating
wondrously the rescue of cats
http://threechattycats.com/2016/02/08/the-odd-cat-sanctuary/
http://threechattycats.com/
Gee, Emoji!
This cat is cool
And a gift from a friend
Who knew my cat, too,
The cat who trained me for
Nineteen years, and I never got
It right
Palindromic name, Hannah
A rescue on Hanover Street
Kitten alone, wandering into
Street traffic
I took her in, and she took
Over
Such a fine companion,
As most cats who are left
In power to train us,
Truly are
The emoji makes me think
Of a cheer—maybe it’s the
Wry smile, maybe the sunshine
Color
Gee, Emoji!
Gee, Gee, emoji!
Gee, emoji, you’re so fine,
Want to paste you all the time!
Graphic cool is what you are,
Any shape, you are a star!
Gee! Emoji!
Gee! Gee! Emoji!
We cheer
For our circular cats,
And we are cheered
my friend who sent me the cat
emoji keeps a Facebook place
called One Mom’s Mission
about the joy in having a child
with Down’s Syndrome; my
general ignorance in using
emojis was first ‘fessed to and
challenged in a friendly way by
Annie at What the Woman Wrote
(sorry, Annie, I still don’t know
how to use these things in
anything like an easy way)
ONE MOM’S MISSION (FB)
https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/
Cry
Such painful beauty here.
It rains with truthly tear.
The Essence, created by Emily Romano, is a short, structured form of two-lines, six syllables each with an end rhyme and internal rhyme. (From the definition Annie cites.)
https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/2016/02/08/forlorn/?c=4644#comment-4644
Annie at What the Woman Wrote crafted with this poetic form: her work, “Forlorn.” (The link is just above.) I responded in kind. She, then, kindly shared her expectation that I would post my response in my blog. So I’ve posted, here.
What can I say? She’s influential.
Annie posts wonderful images to complement her written work. I’m not nearly so skillful. So I’m afraid that “here” is going to have to be a reference to anytime in life itself, as can be imagined or recalled. Readers may fill in with a time from your experience. Or take it that mortal life is often this way, when we must, you know, cry.
Ashen Wednesday
(liturgical need)
You have dirt on your
Forehead, the student says
I wanted you to know so you
Don’t walk around all day
That way
But I had just come from
Church (an early mass), and
Wearing the dirt (the ash)
All day would be our routine
If I had to guess, I’d say the
Room is mostly learner-
Populated with evangelicals
With maybe an honest
Agnostic or two,
In which (for all) formal
Understanding, knowing of
Old church practices would
Not be prominent among or
Within
But any church that survives
In turn gains its own
Orthodoxy,
And we spend time after
Noticing the dirt, talking
About spiritual habits plus
Other rituals
My church is trying this,
Someone observes
Yeah, my church, too, another
Notes
And so together in discovery
It appears—newer evangelical,
Independent communities
Reviving treasured actions
Of the first church,
The one ablaze at Pentecost
Reviving in the church is good:
There is great precedence for
That
And for all of us on this new
Day, we find new ways into
(To share outside)
A faithful, ancient season
Twenty-Seven Syllables
This is crepuscular diatribe
In quotidian confrontation
Meaning I’m scared of the coming night
(three lines of nine for no particular reason; maybe because I was born on the twenty-seventh day of the month; maybe because I want to try out the dictionary word-of-the-day; maybe because sometimes encroaching night puts me off—sometimes encroaching dawn as well)
Gross Tuesday, Then We Fast
In USA (and elsewhere, though
The images I see are from my
Own), it is the time of Mardi Gras
Fat Tuesday, Shrove Tuesday
(Shriving meaning to divest), or
Fast Nacht—a fluid season before
The dryness of Lent, a day of excess
Substance before lean Lenten days
Commence, if only in perspective
Here in Pennsylvania, we have snow;
But in the deep South, look out:
A French and Creole, native, Caribbean
Mélange of festival—a celebration that
In winter shouts, We are still here
And, except for the crime, why not
Love of Pi
pi it is
point
beyond
safe, solvable numbers in
equations
this would go on, transcendence
merging grammar and calculation, design of bridges, and love-
songs ellipses
all our science and art that
we can rely on become
something like God
random in beauty without end
(3.14159265359 and on)
with thanks for inspiration from What the Woman Wrote—Annie
herself responding to a number-sequenced poem-prompt
https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/2016/02/05/consumed/
https://whatthewomanwrote.wordpress.com/
Taiwan Earthquake
Earthquake in Taiwan
Souls are trapped
In falling buildings
Still falling
I might not last
Through rescue tries,
For my soul must be
In open space
And that’s simply personal
Not rising yet to singe the skin
The surrender of
So many lives
And living the rest:
Not any victim’s future
Understanding that
Life has
Security
World, respond
Save and stay to help,
Rebuilding human sanctity
Recent Comments