darkness falls
in silent communion,
a time to pray
© Tournesol ’15
Poetry ~ Waka
How this prompt “nudity” reminds me of my children when they were little. The children were born in the country and so they experienced a freedom you don’t necessarily have in cities and suburbs. When we moved to the suburbs my son, who was five, was invited to go swimming at a neighbour’s house. Of course he was a pratical young boy who knew he would be uncomfortable the rest of the afternoon if his bathing suit was wet…
sweet innocence
jumps in the pool naked,
bathing suit’s dry
© Tournesol ’15
GrandPa’s tombstone
hidden under hoary quilt
plays peek-a-boo
© Tournesol’15
However, reality bites here insofar as spring feeling close goes; I had to wear my ski mask last night walking home in the cold March wind at only minus 10. Perhaps winter is dragging on too long and the cold is difficult to endure this time of year.
timely equinox
spring meanders
lost again
© Tournesol ’15
It is interesting that this prompt is posted the exact day I was reminiscing of times past with my mother. I was speaking with someone yesterday who mentioned that he felt sad that he no longer remembered the voice of his long deceased mother. That made me think about people I love who have passed especially my mother who recently passed this past December. I remember her voice, her off-key voice when singing, her laugh…oh her laugh!! and her cough that was unique to her. She always tried to be a lady even when coughing and would clear her throat a bit like her mother (GrandMaman) but still unique to her. I remember her ankles making that snapping sound when she entered the church when I was little and clearing her throat, I felt so much better knowing she was joining me in the pew closer to the front of the church very soon for the priest in the pulpit high up was quite ominous!
Even when she was sick and her memory was muddled, her voice never changed. I remember sitting in the front seat of the car when I was very little because I was always car sick and leaning my big fat head on her breast always worried my heavy head would crush her tiny breasts.
I remember her singing pop songs of the 50`s missing a few words here and there but her voice would make any hit parade. And of course her signature pinch. She loved with such affection she had to control herself from pinching our cheeks too hard.
I remember her telling me so often, “Dont worry, darling. Dont forget to say your three Hail Mary`s and your Act of Contrition before going to sleep.” And the latter not that long ago.
when I close my eyes,
brings me back in time
her voice soothes me
when I close my eyes
beauty adds red to her lips
scent of Youth Dew
brings me back in time
pins my hair in a French twist
pinches my cheeks
a voice that soothes me
humming Toura Loura Loura
Hush, but I now cry
© Tournesol ’15
Since I received a belated birthday bouquet of roses today, it is only common sense to write about that. After all, we are far from seeing any budding blossoms here and these are my first flowers of 2015. The fragrance of roses is that much sweeter when given with love from a child…another special day.
on a March day
searching for blossoms
Mother’s birthday
Mother’s birthday
celebrating decades
scent of a rose
scent of a rose
mother weeps with joy
counts her blessings
© Tournesol ’15
I struggled with this one and am just putting this out there. Something to work on.
by soft candlelight
opens his heart with passion,
pens with feathered quill
or
by dancing flame
unleashes his love for her,
with feathered quill
or
under dim light
opens his vulnerable heart,
pens with feathered quill
or
under candlelight
declares unfettered love
with feathered quill
© Tournesol ’15
Mountain view
city lights at night
victim of beauty
© Tournesol ’15
Back to Basics – Carpe Diem Writing Techniques
***********************

holding folded flag
bugle sounds that tap the soul
weeping for her son
*
weeping for her son
honour does not spare a life,
curses every war
(c) Tournesol ’15
Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,
This week’s episode of our Haiku Writing Techniques had to be the first episode I think, but I have chosen to bring this later up in time. As you all know I am not a big fan of the classical way of haiku writing, because I think that our Western languages aren’t compatible with the sound units of the Japanese language. A while ago we had the discussion here about the so called “Kanshicho-style” of haiku writing (no syllables, no strict kigo and so on). This “Kanshicho-style” looks very similar with the “free style” of Santoka Taneda which we have discussed in our last episode of Haiku Writing Techniques.
Why do I have to do this episode? Well … it’s not a must or something, but just to bring it again under your attention that there are classical rules. There have been a lot of rules during the history of haiku which came and which were lost, and came back again … like the waves.
I just love to share an episode about these classical rules. First I will start with a haiku by Basho, which you all will know for sure: