Clouds no longer form shapes in the sky. All one sees now is grey and greyer. Wind gusts and rain make the trees flap their arms shedding their leaves that are still green! The day is coming and we feel it in our bones due to the dampness, the cold and daunting night of Hallow’s Eve.
stars hiding
behind heavy billows
filled with tears
stars hiding
waiting to shine
on All Hallow’s Day
behind heavy billows
stories retold
of revered saints
filled with tears
dressed as an angel
dropped all her candies
Northern lights will never be the same, she thought, ever since she spoke to that boy years ago. He was giving up on life filled with so much grief saying he wanted to join his ancestors who came every night in shimmering shapes and colours.
tinted shadows
communing with their heirs
every night
tinted shadows
everlasting radiance
from heaven
communing with their heirs
messages of love
embracing life
They lived in a modest house in the country. The young boy went out to the porch to get a cup of rice from a tall burlap bag. His mom was boiling onions in water with bones she got at the butcher.
rice floating
in beef bouillon
humble man’s soup
what lacks in chewy meat
enriched with a mother’s love
Autumn entails hard work for those who own homes especially with gardens. It is a time where leftover vegetables and dead leaves blend with garden soil…getting the land ready for a long slumber under snow covered grounds. Grownups are busy with garden tools and raking leaves in tall mounds.
midday break
resting on a nest of leaves
scent of autumn
midday break
crunch of Mackintosh
by the maple tree
resting on a nest of leaves
grandson helps her up
failing knees accept
scent of autumn
marigolds slip in
summer’s remains
I am just thinking out loud here. I try not to delve to much into political rants but this has been bugging me for quite some time…
You know that wonderful tool “remote access” where someone takes possession of your computer? You know what I mean, right? It is like a person with IT capabilities, shrink themselves smaller than Tom Thumb and makes corrections on your computer. It is weird seeing that mouse point in all sorts of directions, letters showing up on your screen and you have not even touched the darn keyboard!! Right?
Now I wonder if this tool, “remote access” could be programmed with that leader south of here who seems to trump up on those 140 characters he tweets every day. Honestly, there should be an anti-trump-up (you know like an anti-virus) configured on every electronics he touches that can neutralize any stupid, discriminatory and dangerous to the nation and the world comment. That might save the nation from some of his blunders. As for his speeches, well that seems hopeless.
hopeless
growling like a rabid dog
in Washington
hopeless
waiting for the calm
caught in his tirades
growling like a rabid dog
people running for shelter
danger’s in the air
Driving to their summer cottage in July along that long twisting road filled vacationers with such excitement and promise. A year older since last summer, the girls and boys have blossomed, each with varied agenda…some fulfilling romantic dreams, others realizing hormonal packed fantasies…
winding road
summer’s burgeoning fruits
ripen in time
plucked under a full moon
succulent sighs trickle
their last kiss lingers
haunting the winding road home
September adieus
They passed by him one by one. The sun had just risen and many people shuffled South coming back from their night shift; they seemed to notice him and some would stop by and say hi, or offer him something; others were in their own world walking zombie like; they couldn’t wait to hit the pillow.
And then there was another crowd walking the other direction, very quickly going to their day job. Most of them did not notice him and some even smirked at him as if he were a nuisance.
After the weekend, the morning crowd was not always accommodating.
by the Métro door
sips the last of his coffee
folks rush by
by the Métro door
holds out his Tim Horton cup
longing heavy coins
sips the last of his coffee
the nurse in purple, brings him
every Monday
folks rush by
every hundredth person drops
a big fat toonie
This week at Dungeon promptwe are asked to write about one of the more wilder things we’ve done in our life that looks a little out of place when put up next to the rest of our life’s journey. Or take it in another direction and write about our monsters, or demons.
boul St Laurent Montréal Street art, ’17
I think the worse monster I may have is self-doubt and questioning my own self-worth. That is not something that family and friends close to me know…more or less. It has its strengths and its weaknesses. In strength it emits humility. In weakness it chips away at my spirt and elicits inertia.
Some things, however, are best left unsaid. Have you ever held on to a deep dark secret for years and finally share one day out of sheer vulnerability? Perhaps you were tired or experiencing too many layers and layers of stresses in your life that that last drop made you spill some of it over. Maybe you were so raw and drunk with grief, it trickled out, only to discover later it may not have been the right person to dump on.
Maybe a priest, a therapist, a minister, a rabbi or a guru are appropriate recipients but is a friend the same? Is a spiritual guide better? Some things seem worse spoken out loud. Don’t they? Fantasies may be harmless until some are shared or acted upon. What about secrets deep inside that may shock your friend(s) or family? We all have demons, don’t we?
rarely share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
life
all its dips and rises
every single day
always try to share
power of your faith
fullness of the heart
rarely share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
most don’t really care
too busy with their dole
mornings
start in darkness
brighten thru the day
ups and downs
a fact of life
taken all in stride
caring is so easy
giving also pleasing
looking outwards
feeling all their pain
comfort and appease them
letting go of self
never share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
dare not to confide
mysteries that confuse
merely cause unease
only wish they’d ask – instead,
keep my thoughts confined
death awaits us all patient – unassuming dark before the light
death awaits us all some may rather choose not to wait
patient and unassuming spirits of the night floating orbs invite
dark before the light lasting and forbidding demon of the night
demon of the night
asks not for forgiveness – lures
with empty promise
lasting and forbidding
clinging to the fabric
ripping at the soul
mending seems so futile
hopelessness a trend
dark before the light
demons sweeten my demise
cravings of an end
never ever share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
life
like a valley
days bump in the night
darkness seems forever
climbing insurmountable
never ever share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
praying lifts the soul
defying troubled times
builds protective shields
praying lifts the soul
demons kept at bay
harmless deep inside
defying troubled times
teasing Satan with his fire
smothering it with faith
builds protective shields
containing scents of weakness
fragrance of despair
writing keeps me sane
faith puts out the fires
praying is the same
never ever share
secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
misunderstood,
hasty revelations may
alienate and scare
judge and jury
etched upon their faces
I shall never share
some secrets of the soul
hidden deep inside
some things
better left unsaid
only He can see
healing with His love
waiting for that moment
drying all my tears
opening my eyes – finally
see His blessed light
best to never share
secrets of the soul
unless through your prayers
Which truth do you hold no matter the time nor place? This isn’t a prompt about whether you believe in God or not, or in science or not. This is a morality question. For example, most of us can say that we believe in the commandment, thou shalt not kill, regardless of religion, but would you be able to stick with that even while witnessing your mother or sister being raped? Would you feel that it was wrong if another person, in that kind of situation, killed an attacker to save someone else? So the question here is, which of your values do you hold so strongly that it wouldn’t matter the time or place? Explain.
Here is my response I have made into a haibun.
This will be a 2 part response to the Dungeon’s prompt. It was the only way I could be truthful to myself.
1- Which truth do I hold no matter the time nor place?
I still believe that God loves everyone no matter what they may have done. I think about really evil people who murder, rape and destroy families and communities and still I am sure God still loves them. Why? Because we learned as a young child, that God is perfect and God is love. I found that difficult to believe as a young child and yet now, I find that comforting to know that even if I behave like a total badass, God will forgive me even if I don’t.
I struggle with forgiving myself more than anyone even someone who has greatly hurt me. They say forgiving is letting go and so it is actually liberating to do so; and still, I struggle forgiving myself. That is probably another story or prompt…loving myself enough to forgive.
2- Which value or values still hold true no matter what?
I will not list the commandments but I know I have broken a lot of them…let’s see, swearing, yep…especially in French and Quebec French uses many religious words when swearing and they have a whole list to choose from compared to the English language, which basically uses mostly the F word. There are so many that they just roll off the tongue especially when driving and getting cut off, I may spew out three or four words in one shot…to give you an example translated word for word I might say “Tabernacle, chalice, host, pyx, sacrament.” Now doesn’t that sound silly? But said in French sounds very different.
This was the hard part of the prompt; I still believe killing is wrong yet, I struggle trying to imagine if my children or grandson’s lives depended on me killing another person, I think that is a no brainer. But is it killing if it is self-defence…defending the lives of innocent people? Still, taking another life even under that circumstance, must be a mix of relief for my loved ones, yet eerie feeling to take another life.
If someone had tortured, assaulted or killed my children, would I want to kill him or her? That I would hope I could let go and let God deal with that person. I hope I would not be the judge and crucifier. I don’t believe killing would relieve me for my loss. How could it? But in the heat of the moment would I react differently? Would you? Who knows really, in moments of crazed anguish.
And then there are those who kill for sport…
hunting season
ducks follow the leader
a killer sport
hunting season
killers toast their kill
trophies hang on walls
ducks follow the leader
if only they would stop
quacking
a killer sport
if the game feeds families
nature may forgive
Parminder struggled thinking of her upcoming battle against the man who had assaulted her. He was well known and a successful professional.. Parminder was a mere insect caught in the web of this vicious spider. He was there to stomp on her to rid society of this nuisance.
She wept on the phone as she spilled her sadness and anger to her friend. “I am only female! I am a just an immigrant! I am trash that society cannot even look at; I disgust them.”
“Her friend listens.
“How can anyone amount to anything when she has been groomed in garbage since she was born?” She cries for the child who was abused since she was young.
Her friend waits until there is a pause, then responds.
“What about the flower that starts to grow from the bottom of a pond in the muck and rises above the muddy waters, blossoms into a magnificent lotus? Did it not come from sludge? What about the beta fighter who thrives in mud puddles? Is it not admired in Western worlds for its beauty and endurance? The world does not always know where beautiful and resilient people come from.”
There is nothing more precious when two people sharing a moment of grace simultaneously.
butterfly flutters
fanning its wings on her hand,
my cheek tickles
This is longer than the required 150 words at Heeding Haiku for Chèvrefeuille but it is a true story about despair and hope. Also since it totaled 222 words and my mother’s numbers were 2 and she was born June 22nd, I knew I just had to share it.
Daily Moments September 17 2017 A moment of grace Haibun
Tournesol dans un Jardin 