the 9th life (haibun) Daily Moments November 24/17

He lived a humble life alone…a niece or a nephew here and there brought sunshine to his life…his offspring found no time, nor care to watch the sunset by his side. Before he reached this tranquil life, he’d tested his boundaries, stretching the elastics of addictions. Too many “last calls” and rolling dice and flirting reckonings from the meanest loan sharks. Like a cat, he had at least eight lives.

After umpteenth losses, he faced illness and disability, rooming in the most modest abode…a small room among others  slightly different yet much the same;  not in any kind of bed and breakfast, yet three fixed meals a day.

rags to riches
unrequited love
to borrowed rags.

Last week, he went for a stroll. Waiting at the corner for the light to change, he steps down the curb leaning on his cane, minding his own business like he’s done all his life…

unforeseen
meeting his maker
with a BANG

smell of burnt rubber
wail of niece and nephew

maman et papa
sisters and big brothers
show the way

most unusual racetrack
with perpetual winnings

This is in honour of my uncle, after hearing the news I received today about his sudden death …my mother’s brother.

Written for Micro Poetry Month #24

Daily moments paradise beyond November 24 2017

a different kind of therapist (haibun)

Waking earlier than usual, she shuffles eyes half closed, holding her forehead to the bathroom to run her bath.  Peeking through tired eyes at her reflection and after careful evaluation sighs with relief that Man-made masks exist in all forms.

ivory liquid
brushed smoothly
on ashen face
painting taupe shadows and liner
illusions of a happy face

Arriving at her appointment, she settles comfortably and opens up to a face of compassion. Tears running down her cheeks, her therapist listens with empathy and continues her task…

scraping and cutting
polishing for good measure
podiatrist soothes

Who knew her foot doctor could be the only one who seems to “get it”? Too bad the next appointment is only in two months.


even
 the perfectly shaped leaf
dies

©Tournesol’17/11/22

Daily Moments – November 22, 2017  a different kind of therapist (haibun – haiga) – MicroPoetry Month #22

Daily Moments – sleep interrupted- November 21 2017

voices echo
words revolving
on a merry-go-round

voices echo
abysmal
clutching

words revolving
aimlessly
bent out of shape

on a merry-go-round
spinning out of control
my weary brain

©️Tournesol’17/11/21

Daily Moments – sleep interrupted- November 21 2017

MicroPoetry Month #21

 

first snow (haiga)

Image may contain: tree, plant, outdoor and nature

snow
just passing through
fallen leaves

©Tournesol’17/11/19

Written for Micro Poetry Month #19

Daily Moments Novembe 19/17

life’s options (troiku – shadorma) Daily moments November 16th/17

Image may contain: table, plant and outdoor
©Clr’17

(troiku)

autumn simmers
reassessing life’s options
season’s nesting spell

autumn simmers
rolling into sleepy times
winter’s slumber

reassessing life
sitting by a crackling fire
knitting my options

season’s nesting spell
searching under winter skies
making snow angels

(shadorma)

thoughts echo
in my weary brain
telling me
to slow down
run through future options
life is too damn short

©Tournesol’17/11/16

Daily moments – reassessing – November 16th, 2017

Writing for MicroPoetry Month #16

November 15th, 1976 (haibun) MicroPoetry Month – Daily moments

If you talk to a man in a language he understand, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.  –Nelson Mandela

 

How can I not write something on this date November 15th.   Je m’en souviens all too well.  Sure I have mixed feelings being of two cultures and embracing both. My mother, being French Québecois has always said she was a bilingual Canadian. She has never shared the vengeance and yet she has surely experienced the unfairness and the disrespect  all too often.

My father,  being of Irish and Welsh background, his maternal grandfather settled here due to his Irish Catholic background but his father being of the mindset of English is best allowed me to feel the humiliation for my mother.

French speaking persons in the 50’s and 60’s could not get decent work if they did not speak fluent English and even then, it was difficult to rise in a company carrying a French name.  How this has changed dramatically today!

I understand the need for change. One must be mindful, when the pendulum swings too much and stays there, it turns justice into resentment and vengeance. And being of these two cultures, I have too often been on the fence carrying the sins of my ancestors.

history
in the making
November 15th

a new government is born
1976

citizens hail
Vivre le Québec Libre
français shall rule

laws to preserve their language
change well past due

years of oppression
fuels their passion
the pendulum swings

 ©Tournesol’17/11/15

Written for MicroPoetry Month November 15th 2017

Quebec 1976 Parti Québecois Victory

wistful moments (a cherita and solo renga -MicroPoetry Month #14)

 

the old man listens to the melodies

water running over timeless rocks
lyrics swimming in his head

an angel met him here long ago
even fish splashed in the creek
only her memory remains

***

breathing her name
with a long wistful sigh
a tear runs down his cheek

leaves rustle in the wind
a sparrow sings a love song

sitting on the log
the old man smiles
embracing the past

©Tournesol’17/11/14

Daily Moments Nov.  14 – MicroPoetry Month #14 & Haiku Horizons: log

hasty dusk Troiku MicroPoetry Month November 13 th Daily Moments

©Clr’17/11/13

five o’clock shadows
hasty dusk settles
all day long

five o’clock shadows
greyness fills the soul
sullen shroud

hasty dusk settles
hiding any hope
melancholy rains

all day long
life without promise
haunting season’s end

©Tournesol’17/11/13

Written for MicroPoetry Month #13 – Daily Moments.  Looking outside all I saw was grey and took a photo…the photo does not seem as grey as the day actually.

Daily Moments November 13 – hasty dusk

Coco Chanel (MicroPoetry Month #12) Daily moments (Troibun)

 

The sun shines brightly in the cold pale skies and yet, her soul is filled with greyness? The day will move slowly as she shuffles through her clutter. That old overcoat that should have been thrown in the trash, swings gently from side to side. What is she doing still holding on to those tan boots that cramp her toes? They remind  her of better days and happy times, strutting with a sense of purpose. As she moves further into the greyness she finds  her mother’s old raincoat she has yet to wear. As she slips it on,  she feels her presence…still.

soft scents
float around her
Chanel

soft scents
rest in droplets
kissing her cheek

float around her
Sinatra and Doris Day
melodies

Chanel
admiring CoCo
worshiping the sun

©Tournesol’17/11/12

I love the haibun form and since I have also fallen in love with the Troiku (a haiku form created by Chevrefeuille at CarpeDiemHaikuKai) I have coined the haibun with a troiku, Troibun.

Written for MicroPoetry Month #12 where we are inspired to write a haibun.

The history of sun tanning and Coco Chanel.

slaves no more ( senryu) November 11/17

The shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins

every man,
woman and child
suffering bound in chains
enough to make
any mind go wild

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins

every man, woman and child have dreamed
of their forefathers
recalling tales of yesteryear
and such better days than here!

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins
dear blessed Mother of God
pray for our mortal sins

of absolution
we are not worthy
tainted by our greed

we must make restitution
for sins that were commissioned

will there ever be resolve
in our own privileged life span
and centuries we have robbed them all
due respect and compassion?

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins
blessed Divine Mother, please,
pray for our mortal sins

© Tournesol’17/11/11
Daily moments November 11/17 slaves no more

Written for Mocropoetry Month

I was trying to watch 12 Years a Slave and could not watch half, it was too difficult and so My muse took over…

This started free flow but noticed there were many senryu and tanka within. What was most important for me was to release these thoughts.