bright burst of color
leaving blanket of dry leaves
this path to autumn
This haiku is my response to Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 152 #Poet’sChoice.
Photos taken 5 November 2019 while hiking at Painted Rock Conservation Area, Missouri.
(Click both images for larger view in new tab.)
Moonshine Like a Fever
Silver shadows bring spirited wishes
only your deepest thoughts
would know, reminding you
of dreams long held
but never brought to life.
magneticpoetry.com offers five different sets of tiles that can be used to create poetry online, with tiles that can be moved on the screen with a mouse cursor. The site also sells more than 100 sets of themed magnet sets that can be used on a fridge or a white board.
The latest is “Moon Poet.”
Word lists are available as free PDF files, so I downloaded the Moon Poet list and wrote this poem using those words. I also conducted an experiment in which I copied that list into a document and highlighted the words so I could make tiles from a screenshot. I burned a lot of hours working on it, but I guess I just wanted to see if it could be done. Once.
I like the idea of using the variety of magnetic tile lists that are available, so I’m sure I’ll try that again. Without the graphics!
If you want to try magnetic poetry with the standard movable magnets,
you can do it online, here.
The background image is the full moon on 22 December 2018.
(Click the image to see a larger view of the photo with tiles in a new tab.)
The following image is a copy of the Moon Poet” list with the words I used in bold italics.
Restless, this sleep that comes,
then doesn’t, these trying times when
memories flow like a river, then briefly,
and I feel his touch, then don’t.
That sun set long ago. Everything changed
with his extinguished light, no eyes
to flash his broad smile as darkness
seemed to close in around me.
It’s now my turn to go, knowing that,
as our hands touch once again, at last,
we will greet our first new sunrise.
The prompt for Meet the Bar by changing your perspective, from Björn at dVerse, offers this prompt: “…go out of your comfort zone and change the perspective. You can either start from a poem you’ve written before and change its perspective, or simply write from a perspective you are not used to.”
On October 29th, I wrote Last Light in response to “Tears in rain – using our senses,” from Sarah at dVerse. For this prompt, I’ve rewritten that poem and made it from the perspective of the subject of the first poem. My father died 15 years before my mother, and she was quiet, almost absent, in the last few years of her life. I tried to imagine that, with this. Please read the original, here.
Carpe Diem #1775 Morning Glory! is part of a new feature,
“Carpe Diem’s Transformation,” which has the goal of using the scenes and images
of a given haiku to create a transformed haiku into a tanka.
Another feature of Carpe Diem is to create a Tan Renga, a short exercise that adds two lines to a given haiku to create a tanka. Making a distinction, I have interpreted this new prompt
to be a challenge to first transform a given haiku by re-creating it
before adding two lines to make it a tanka.
The haiku provided (in blue) is by Chiyo-Ni, and my tanka follows.
the well bucket-entangled,
I ask for water
morning glory filled with water
refreshing my thirst
accepted as good omen
a fresh start to my travels
Image source: morguefile.com / rollingroscoe
Those wheels of black that propelled me
down the road, away
from a past grown dark,
offered a deliverance that brought
light and the promise of love realized.
This poem is my response to dVerse Poetics: On Shades of Black,
from Anmol at dVerse – Poets Pub.
Seven years have passed since I moved from Western New York to Central Missouri.
Do you still keep those memories
we once held dear, now that we have
nothing else to share? The one thing
we could not divide between us
dwindled away for me, once we went
our separate ways, leaving nothing
but faint memories of memories.
This is my response to Quadrille #91 – Keep — the prompt from Kim at dVerse, which is to use the word keep in a 44-word poem that does not require meter or rhyme.