afternoon nap (senryu)

rumbling of the train
commuters nodding their heads
whistle blares last stop

©Tournesol`17/08/06

Haiku Horizons: Stop

the hidden promise (troibun)

At Heeding haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie, our host asks us to write a haibun (prose with a haiku or tanka) inspired by the sculpture below.  I looked up the artist, Matteo Pugliese and discovered the name of this piece is La Promessa…

I discovered a new form of poetry last month called The Cherita at Celestine’s blog Reading Pleasure, a gifted Haiku poetess; the Cherita was created by al li.   Rather than using prose, I am telling my story with two Cherita followed by a Troiku which is a new form of haiku created by Chèvrefeuille. I name my haibun a troibun since troiku is the core.

 

La Premessa by Matteo Pugliese

The hidden promise (Troibun)

The Cherita

aggravation started bubbling unexpectedly

all those hopes and fantasies
never seeing the dawn of day

sadness and self-pity
wrapped inside a duvet
used to comfort her

 

pointing fingers and blaming life is so less painful

staying up late at night
wishing upon a star

waking up dismayed
feeding on crestfallen
crunching on uncertainty

©Tournesol’17/08/05

(troiku)

captive
all those years – stalling
prisoner of self-doubt

captive
wall of hidden truths
fooled to feel helpless

all those years –stalling
that prince of fairy tales
held inside a web

prisoner of self-doubt
unrequited promises
trapped inside her soul

©Tournesol’17/08/05

 

guarding the cornfield (troiku)

© Clr `17

A troiku

perched on his post
overseeing the cornfield
cawing his presence

perched on his post
watching the sun rise slowly
behind the old barn

overseeing the cornfield
scurrying unnoticed
mice squeal with delight

cawing his presence
even the old scarecrow
stands at attention

©Tournesol’17/07/30

Haiku Horizons “post”

A troiku is a new form of haiku created by Chèvrefeuille.

the old woman – Troiku

The Troiku is a new haiku form created by Chèvrefeuille

(troiku)

marked with age spots
the old woman holds out a cup
with gnarled fingers

marked with age spots
having lived a long life
beauty rewritten

the old woman holds out a cup
invisible to society
people hurry by

with gnarled fingers
shelled nuts from her secret stash
feeds the squirrels

©Tournesol’17/07/28

Haiku Horizons “spot”

Daily reflections – a cherita – mid-day quietude

The Cherita was created by al li.

dead silence of the day

deafeness hangs
the old woman’s heart stops

still leaves wait
not even the cat purrs
no ripple in the air

©Cheryl-Lynn Roberts 2017/07/28

retrouvailles (a cherita – Daily reflections July 22, 2017)

Retrouvailles

A day filled with hope
kindling new beginnings

testing the waters
despite the cracked surface
will the foundation withstand?

©Cheryl-Lynn Roberts

Daily Reflections – July 22 2017 Retrouvailles

Daily Reflections July 21 2017 A Cherita

©Clr `17

A Cherita – Daily Reflections – July 21  2017

Credits: The Cherita

summer haze shrouds me

lazy sleep in on my first day off
hugging my pillow with a sigh

soft thumps of a neighbour’s kitten
insistent meow of my queen
purr of surrender

©Cheryl-Lynn Roberts – 2017/07/21

Cherita #5

Cherita #5

helping Grand-Maman made me feel special

some chores were less amusing
dusting can be so boring

watching her cooking
a pinch of this, a pinch of that
savouring herbs teasing me

running to the garden to get les haricots jaunes

slipping one or two in my mouth
crunchy and juicy

down in the cold cellar where wrinkled potatoes rest
dark and scary, spider webs brush my face
my heart flip flops

©Cheryl-Lynn Roberts 2017/07/21

Grand-Maman’s tales (Cherita) #1 – #4

© clr Grand-Maman 2014

I have just discovered the Cherita (A haiku/tanka inspired form created by ai li on June 22, 1997. Now this must have been calling me to pay attention. I had noticed a few of Celestine’s beautiful contributions both on Facebook and on her blog Reading Pleasure and she write the cherita as if she is singing ever so softly. She does have a way with words and metaphors that I truly admire.

Now the reason, I am more drawn to this form after reading the source of this(Celestine is generous enough to highlight after each postin), my mother’s birthday was June 22nd…that is one majour attraction; in 1997 I made a majour move away from family and friends, starting a new single life. And, lastly, the word Cherita is the Malay word for “story” or “tale” and I have been looking for a way to write les histoires ranconté by my grand-maman.

 

So I am going to try and write a cherita more often in my Daily reflections similar to what I have been doing in Waka (haiku, tanka, haibun). Thank you, Celestine, for sharing this form with your readers.

 

So for my first try I am simply going on a tale spin (not tailspin) but for my first time, this is a “spin off of tales” raconter (told) by my grandmother. Des histories Grand-maman m’a racontait autour de la table de cuisine avec une bonne tasse de thé. (Stories my grandmother shared at the kitchen table over a good cuppa tea).

Cherita #1

no sterile beginnings for me

twisting and turning
in a hurry to see your face

in the comfort of home
two generations holding me
my first bain d’amour

Cherita #2

Grand-maman was the town mid-wife. Doctors called upon her to stay the long hours, usually at night while expectant mothers were in labour. My grandmother would phone the doctor just when the mother was dilated enough so the doctor had little wait time to deliver the baby.

 

We would hear all sorts of stories about how some households were sometimes ill prepared for the birth of a 2nd, 3rd or 4th child. Growing up in a predominantly French Canadian and Catholic town, the church encouraged procreation and condemned birth control.

 

If you wanted to receive absolution for your sins at confessions and the priest got wind of avoiding copulation for fear of getting pregnant, you would have to forgo absolution for your sins on that day.

an unhappy husband hummed and hoed

needs not having been met
he actually told on his partner!

with a sign of the cross
tongue wagging on how to behave
his wife was not given absolution

Grandmaman told us this story how she found a way to get around “not refusing” her husband but still not being exposed to the chance of getting pregnant.

 

Ma Tante Rose comes for a visit every month

Sometimes this relative makes
unexpected stopovers

no one would question
that extra layer
husbands simply sigh and roll over.

 

Cherita #3

hot summer night

sitting by the riverbank
cicadas and bullfrogs compete

shrill of the musique à bouche (harmonica)
stepping and jigging to the beat

cutting through the thick
Grand-Papa bringing life
summer air

 

Cherita #4

finding perfection out of imperfect moments

There is something so ordinary
and yet so extra-ordinary

sitting
with family
on hot summer nights

no rules of behaviour

young or old
everyone’s engaged

telling tales of this and that
laughing and singing
foot tapping for sure

©Cheryl-Lynn Roberts 17/017/20

My first Cherita attempts…I am not sure if it is okay to include prose within the tales but for a first try, it just fit well.

On the road to the Holy Grail (haibun)

Suzanne has asked us to write about the Road to the Holy Grail, and quotes from “Reflections on the Art of Living” edited by Diane K Osbon:

“What the Holy Grail symbolizes is the highest spiritual fulfillment of a human life.  Each life has some kind of high fulfillment, and each has its own gift from the Grail…   It has to do with overcoming the same temptations that the Buddha overcame; of attachment to this, that or the other life detail that has pulled you off course…   In the Grail legends, the land of people doing what they think they ought to do or have to do is the wasteland.”

I am not sure if I have interpreted this well but have tried interpreting a journey to engulfment.

*** 

So much time seems to be wasted when we all seem to think that time is plentiful. Is it? Really? In the past decade,  she has returned to her path of spirituality. Usually strife and hopelessness draws her there and in time, she feels at peace. She is astounded at how often she rereads a passage of wisdom and spiritual growth twenty to thirty years later as if it were the very first time. What does that mean?

There are times when she was in her  early twenty’s she may have digested words intellectually rather than emotionally. That is the only answer that makes sense to her. Life happens and too many times attachment to things and persons cloud our vision but the path is always there, waiting, forgiving and embracing.

Nothing can be rushed…it is not like spring cleaning with a power wash but letting yourself go and be.  Emptying your mind and allowing to be filled with light.

meditating
visions of white doves
inviting her home

©Tournesol`17

For those who know me, also know my late mother’s name is dove in French, Colombe.