Presents of presence (troibun) Daily Moments December 9 2017

Image may contain: tree, sky, car and outdoor
©Tournesol’17/12/09

Peering out the window, she sighs with relief. She is an observer today and doesn’t need to join the crowd across the street. All the hustle and bustle in the shops are stressful enough but to add to this, people circling around for too long to find the perfect parking spot. Heaven forbid today she is not working where she would be normally cutting through this lot to get to her bus for work! Yes, she has been bumped by a car before and the man just looked at her as if she was a vision! Last week a young woman was passing through a STOP sign and the lined area where she was crossing…it shocked her as well and she just stopped in front of the car, gave her the “mother look” and pointed to the stop sign. My oh my, what a way for her to start her work day! It actually shook her back to reality and that she must be extra careful this time of year. Not only must she watch out for ice patches or black ice, at stop signs or even traffic lights, there are always one or two cars that whip by as if she had no business crossing the road at a GREEN light!

Now the holidays should be seasoned with love, well wishes and harmony. But it is rarely so for too many. The less fortunate who may have just lost their job, expectant children wondering what Christmas morning will be like and mothers trying to make a feast with next to nothing are some realities too many are living. It is a time of year many youths say how they dread going back to school to hear their peers boast about their gifts and how they can’t wait for the novelty of that new tablet, racing sled or hockey equipment is over so they can feel more or less “normal” among their classmates.

For some may who may have a little more, the pressure is still on to balance all the gifts fairly among their children. The extra cost of food is quite astounding and certainly breaks the weekly budget for at least a month or so. How did her grandmother do this on her meagre old age pension?!

She sighs again praying silently…

(troiku)

wished upon a star
sundry degrees of joy – rise
with one’s presence

wished upon a star
feels a loving presence
warmth drapes her

sundry degrees of joy – rise
family and friends’ warm wishes
watch her grandson sleep

with one’s presence
and another and another
multiplies the presents

©Tournesol’2017/12/10

The Daily Post – Degree –  Daily Moments – presents of presence  (Troibun)

A Troiku is a new form of haiku created by Chevrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

those empty rooms (haibun)

Today I sit thinking of my cousin who is like my kid brother. He lost his lifelong partner last Wednesday. I’m a phone call away and an hour and a half drive away but still… For now there will be children and grandchildren visiting; aunts, uncles and cousins too and friends bringing him comfort as well as a casserole or two. The busyness goes on like a whirlwind for those who grieve and then after the services it slowly stops. Let the grief truly begin. There is no right way or wrong way to mourn, nor is there an expiry date…no indeed, it stays fresh, raw and painful for the time it does…and I know he aches today and will tomorrow. His children and grandchildren will miss their mother and grandmaman who lived life with such passion. She laughed with such enthusiasm and loved with all her heart.

(American Sentence)

Walking through each empty room, he looks longingly theough his liquid blues.

©Tournesol’17/12/08

Daily Moments December 8, 2017

The Friday Reminder for Saturday and Prompt SoCS “liqu”

Daily Moments December 1 2017 three years ago Haibun

© Clr ’14 Colombe (Mom) June 22, 1926-Dec 2, 2014

On this day three years ago I had dreamed half the night. The dream of my mother and I trying to save a dying child. Each time I woke up shocked by the dream, I would go back to sleep and dream the exact same scene…3 times until I could no long sleep. I waited until sunrise and called the nursing home to ask how my mother was. The nurse said, « Viens vite, il ne lui reste plus grand temps.»

I no longer had a car since the fall and called a taxi. It was snowing lightly and it was very cold. The sky was so grey and morbid. I talked all the way down with the taxi driver. His mother had recently passed…

She used every means to get me by her side…I will be forever thankful and she passed a little after midnight…

you poked me
three times
I was by your side
one last time …you looked at me
passing to the other side

missing you
embraced by your soothing voice
telling me each time

I love you darling –
don’t forget your Hail Mary’s

never too old
j’suis toujours ton bébé
miss you Mom…

©Tournesol’17/12/01

 

butterfly blue (haibun) Weekly Writing Prompt #117

© Clr’17

 

 

The spring after her mother’s death, a butterfly would greet her daily on her way to work. Walking through the bushes behind the building, she would stop to admire the wild daisies and there on a blossom sat a blue butterfly. She  knew it had to be her mother hanging around just a while longer. The thicket served as a rent-free haven. The Landlord upstairs understands how difficult it can be for those left behind.  There is no right or wrong way to mourn…just takes time.

grief
surviving a great loss
her mother
wings of a butterfly
kissed her cheek

©Tournesol ‘17/11/30

Written for Weekly Writing Prompt #117 at SecretKeeper
Prompts: Wing wrong rent serve great

In memory of my hero, June 22, 1926 – December 2, 2014

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

bitter endings ~ Haibun ~Daily moments November 18, 2017

 

So many losses and bitter ends in this bleak season, she’s lost count. Trying to please one may leave others in bitter deprivation. Impulsive actions, even with loving intentions, become too many blunders that add insult to injury. Communicating regrets is now worthless falling on deaf ears; broken hearts are just too hurt with feelings of abandonment harden over time in bitter stone.

memories
tainted with despair
and broken promises
tears filled with regrets
rubbed in old wounds

©Tournesol’17/11/18

Written for MicroPoetry Month #18

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

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.

never fortten (troibun) daily moments November 8 2017

https://www.kusuyama.jp/wp-content/uploads/11111439_509f3a13565ba.jpg

November quest
kiku blossoms whispering
forget me not

In the cool autumn nights of November they stir in their beds. Not a sound is heard as they wiggle their way out breathing in one long inhalation of new life. Adorning their beds are yellow chrysanthemums slowly decaying from the cold winds. Yet, as they breathe upon them, life is restored and their stems straighten at attention and their blossoms billow.

(troiku)
roaming in the night
over fields of poppies
visiting loved ones

roaming in the night
startling
the old night owl

over fields of poppies
coming back
to be remembered

visiting loved ones
ever so gently
in their dreams

©Tournesol’17/11/08

*Kiku= Chrysanthemum in Japanese

Heeding Haiku with Chevrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

Daily moments – never forgotten – November 8 2017

MicroPoetry Month – November 8  2017