knock knock
emptiness so hard to fill
death.
(c) Tournesol
life is (haiku)
life’s a miracle
death is inevitable
time will tell
(c) Tournesol
Submitted for Heeding Haiku with Ha, at Mindlovemiserys Menagerie
Childhood scents (haibun)
I knew I was going to be a smoker eventually. When I was very young, sitting in the back seat of my father’s car, I couldn’t wait to have him light that first cigarette. The sweet scent of tobacco at just the first puff. (No worries I quit smoking a while ago)
Chevy Impala
red leather seats
Sweet Caporal
In the summer my mother was so busy hairdressing we would go swimming at the local pool. The river was reserved ONLY when adults were around. The pool was not the same, opening your eyes under water was such a habit in lakes and rivers but boy did it burn the eyes in the pool and the smell was so strong. It smelled like GrandMaman’s laundry room when she had to soak sheets for a long time to get them white.
blue water,
cement floor
laundry scents
When I was ten, we started camping, mostly close by weekends in Vermont but for vacation, we would head out every year to Old Orchard, Maine. The owner of a huge camp ground was friends with my parents and less than a mile from the ocean. I keep thinking of lobsters and steamed clams dipped in melted butter eating at the picnic table.
pine needles,
oil lantern heats the tent
salt water air.
GrandMaman had a huge vegetable garden not counting the flower beds. August until end of September was canning and pickling time for all her produce. The kitchen was always busy. I still don`t know how she managed to keep borders at her house, cook, clean, garden and still be a midwife. She had to stay busy to support herself since GrandPapa passed when I was 6.
hot stove and veggies
chez GrandMaman
vinegar stings
She often got a phone call late in the evening and I would often cry and plead with her not to go. She would wash, put baby powder as her choice of a midwife’s cologne…makes sense now that I think about it. She then put on her white uniform, white nylons and white “sensible” shoes.
Ivory soap
traces of pressed uniform,
baby powder lingers
My mother was a hairstylist and I grew up with our living room converted into a beauty salon. Still today, the lull of a hair dryer makes me sleepy, the smell of hair spray, permanent and hair dyes brings me back to the 1960’s. I still ask my hairdresser now and then if I can sweep the floor; brings me back to my youth and my chores.
shampoo, peroxide
hair spray, conditioners
hair dryer lulls
Of course when my mom would get ready to go out I knew she was going to be out late when she put on her make up, curling those eyelashes, painting her lips, fluffed her natural curly hair with her fingers…but that last touch…Youth Dew scent, that blue bottle…always put on too much…she loved perfumes!
lips tattoo my cheeks
softness of her creamed hands,
Youth Dew idles
(c) Tournesol ’14-08-06
Submitted for: Carpe Diem Ghost Writer 20 The Scent of Poetry
Same post can be found at Blogspot – Tournesol dans un jardin
Tranquility-Haiku (Carpe Diem TackleItTuesday #1 Serenity)
Sri Swami Sivananda (1887-1963)
This week the first episode of Tackle it Tuesday is Serenity and it is based on the philosophy of Sri Swami Sivananda (1887-1963) who composed the song of the 18-ity. He was born in the south of India an studied medicine. He worked as a doctor several years in Malaysia. After that he settled in Rishikesh at the foot of the Himalayans where he devoted his life to yoga and the spreading of it.
The first ity was serenity and the goal was to meditate and contemplate about this ity and become silent. Every ity needs a week (or a month) to learn. After you have done all 18 ‘ity, you start again with number one and so on. There will become a time that you have changed into a better person, more in balance.
deep silence
at the top of the mountain
I discover myself
© Chèvrefeuille
centre on my breath
silence, picture open meadows
OM, I`m at one.
&
eyes closed
cross-legged, breath relaxed
tranquility
© Tournesol 2014/08/04
just in time (haibun) CarpeDiem #532 Movement
Khalil Gibran wrote, “We measure time according to the movement of countless suns; and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets. Now tell me how could we ever meet at the same place at the same time?”
changing tides
my restlessness has gone
time is at my side
© Chèvrefeuille
How true! We seem to always be focused on time. How fast we can get this done and that completed. When I am writing, I don’t measure my time but I do see that a whole day sometimes has passed me by on my day off. So what? I enjoyed myself; I was able to create and be inspired by my muse. And all this is free and it is not even fattening! I have earned my time to just be and if writing is one of those moments of `being`, so be it!
Years ago, I used to be a personal support worker in homecare. My favourite days were bath days and individuals would humbly allow me to help them with their personal hygiene. I would take my time…up to an hour many times. I felt privileged to be welcomed in their homes like that. I am pretty sure that today, thirty years later, this “time” is considered a rare luxury…sadly so.
I stopped wearing a watch when I had the children and was a stay at home mom for five years. I didn’t need a clock or a watch. Babies and children can easily determine their needs without a clock and so that is how life was then.
internal clocks pulse
mother nurses, cleans, comforts
infant cries
© Tournesol ‘14/08/03
I remember when I first started working as a youth counsellor at our help line, I used to feel uneasy for talking a bit longer than some of my colleagues. Finally after three years, I had this amazing clinical supervisor who had watched me, observed my style and told me it was just the way I was. That was how I was able to engage with youths before they felt comfortable to disclose. When youth asks me if they are taking up too much time and feel they should let go, I tell them, “This call ends when you are finished sharing what you need to get off your chest, and we can find some options to help you through this.”
Sometimes we may be short-staffed due to illness and colleagues may worry seeing there are other callers waiting in the queue. I don’t look at that…I refuse to for I cannot be present with a youth if I my mind is wandering about caller number 2 or 3. I can ONLY take one call at a time and be with that person in a meaningful way.
just ended a call,
sun sets below the skyline
dinnertime.
© Tournesol ‘14/08/03
Sweetness (haiga) …CarpeDiemHaikuKai #531
“ …It was but yesterday I thought myself a fragment quivering without rhythm in the sphere of life. Now I know that I am the sphere, and all life in rhythmic fragments moves within me”. Khahil Gibran
Chèvrefeuille reminds us about all living things including insects however small are children of Mother Earth just as we are. Sweetness being the theme he sees this as found among all of Mother Nature`s offsprings as well as the sweetness mixed with tang tasted from fruits.
under the hedge
I saw little creatures crawl
between fallen leaves
© Chèvrefeuille
vibrating cobweb
the spider awakens from his sleep
breakfast is served
© Chèvrefeuille
stow away worms
communion of ants
fallen fruit
© Tournesol ‘14/08/03
I get home late,
gnats fly wildly at the door
wise spider waits.
© Tournesol ‘14/08/03
Persimmons (Haiku Shuukan )
I never heard of Persimmons before until this prompt.
Shiki apparently was also fond of Persimmons:
sanzen no haiku wo kemishi kaki futatsu
having examined
three thousand haiku poems –
two persimmons
© Shiki (1897)
kaki bakari narabeshi Suma no komise kara
displaying
only persimmons —
small store in Suma
© Shiki (1895)
After reading Georgia’s offering to this prompt, I was interested in reading her post. What a joy to read and see the photos she added of these fruit trees that grow in northern Italy as well as in Japan. Chèvrefeuille has certainly given us a challenging prompt.
At first I thought of not being capable of writing anything but Georgia’s lovely introduction describing Italy’s fruit trees and how these fruits do not conserve as well as our apples , I am piggybacking a bit on her story (hope that’s okay, Cara) and her photos that inspired me to write this:
Persimmons
over abundance of fruit
rot on lawns
rot on lawns
birds fill their bellies
Persimmons fruit
Persimmons fruit
gaudy orangey red
savour the sweetness
© Tournesol 2014/08/02
Willow Tree (haiga) (CPHK – #530 Mist)
willow tree
filters glaring star
birds serenade.
© Tournesol ‘14/08/02
Submitted for: Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #530 Mist
River listens (shadorma – tilus)
This prompt, Chèvrefeuille has discovered Shadorma, a short poetry-form from Spain. I have had the privilege to have learned about this through Bastet in her weekly prompts at Mindlovemiserys Menagerie. I think I was drawn to it as well because Oliana is an island in Spain…so it was most fitting that I learn this poetry-form. The Shadorma is a poetic form consisting of a six-line stanza (or sestet). Each stanza has a syllable count of three syllables in the first line, five syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third and fourth lines, seven syllables in the fifth line, and five syllables in the sixth line (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables. A poem may consist of one stanza, or an unlimited number of stanzas (a series of shadorma). I sometimes like to add another form, Bastet introduced to us called Tilus which is 3 lines consisting of 10 sylables 6/3/1 with Shadorma forms to get a message across.
Chèvrefeuille sought the internet and ran into several examples of Shadorma, but this one by Richard Ankers is was one he found beautiful.
Emerald,
Verdant grass of dreams;
Swaying free;
Living free;
Gathered together as one:
Most peaceful landscape.
© Richard Ankers
Here is another lovely example written by Jen at Blogitorloseit.com
Memories
with crocodile teeth
overwhelm
the phoenix –
plumes turn to ash in his mouth –
he singes his jaws
© Jen of Blog It Or Lose It
Here is Chèvrefeuille’s first try at it.
red Roses
sharing their perfume,
morning mist
and the soft breeze
giving it to the whole wide world,
unknown love
© Chèvrefeuille
I think that is a wonderful offering…I could smell the scent of the roses in this poem. Didn`t you?
(shadorma)
salty tears
my river listens
challenges
life’s choices
water roars over the dam
releasing sorrow.
(tilus)
waterfall swallows tears
and then I
smile.
© Tournesol ‘14/08/02
Double Rainbow (Tan Renga)
 |
| Credits: Double Rainbow |
What wonderful haiku and the photo provided is stunning.
(c) Clr 2013 October
I could not help but be reminded of the double rainbow I had seen on my way from work one day I finished unusually early. It had been raining in mid October and the sky had darkened already save for Montreal street lights, only the rain, my umbrella and bumping into pedestrians kept me alert walking to the Métro. Then as I gazed at the sky, just above the church facing the Métro, I saw a rainbow. I was quite astonished to see it this late in the day and I don’t think I have ever seen such a sight in the Fall. In the country and small towns we are graced with such views but in the city there are too many distractions to really notice. City workers were leaving their buildings and I could not help but notice their faces look up at the sky and smile even after a hard day’s work. Then some people cheered as a second rainbow faintly joined it’s cousin. Thank you Ese for this lovely reminder and haiku and Chèvrefeuille for offering this prompt, it brings me back to fond memories in the country and especially that October fest of colours … and now I have added two Tan Renga to focusing on “time to count blessings” as I am also reminded of that moment last October in Montréal on boulevard Laurier.
double rainbow
arches across stormy sky
time to count blessings (Ese)
the joy and laughter of my kids
resonates at the family barbecue (Chevrefeuille)
double rainbow
arches across stormy sky
time to count blessings (Ese)
yuppies stare up openmouthed
filled with wonder and reverence (Tournesol)
double rainbow
arches across stormy sky
time to count blessings (Ese)
gauchely holding umbrella
photograph a miracle (Tournesol)
© Tournesol ‘14/08/02
Submitted for: Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #45, “Double Rainbow”
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
