Poetry ~ Waka
Our host at Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie has asked us to rewrite this famous haiku by the master, Matsuo Basho
furu ike ya / kawazu tobi komu / mizu no oto
old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water
© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)
A description of the surroundings when Basho experienced this moment, by the old pond were Japanese yellow roses (yamabuki) growing around the pond. Here is my rewrite.
scent of roses
by the old pond
frog plops
© Tournesol ’15
©
music feeds the soul and moves the body
instigating spells on her existence
rhythm and blues sink into her essence
that’s when she got a taste of true freedom
searching in all the wrong places for release
it’s always been there, free for the taking
cannot be purchased in stores or on-line
music feeds the soul and moves the body
she was in limbo for too many years
fighting urges to act impulsively
until she explored deep into her soul
instigating spells on her existence
she found herself one lonely afternoon
taking out her old turntable she played
Stevie Wonder and Smokey Robinson
rhythm and blues sink into her essence
it felt like being possessed by these tunes
her body moved mindlessly and freely
swayed to Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing
that’s when she got a taste of true freedom
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A Cascade reminds me a bit of a Troiku, so I also added the sense of “freedom” one gets from dancing to being midst nature and all its beauty with a Troiku.
(Haibun – troiku)
Nature offers such freedom that dance does liberating the soul, reacquainting with one’s inner child and admiring as if seeing for the first time. Before such liberation, one walks around with jaded lenses. What a joy to “see” again the vibrant colours and experiences of each season.
nature’s charm
grace of a butterfly
golden blossoms sigh
nature’s charm
seduced the lonely woman
long last – awakened
grace of a butterfly
tickled the child within
made her gasp
golden blossoms sigh
daisies coo – Pick Me, Pick Me
tranquil bliss
© Tournesol ’15
OctPoWriMo #17
“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.” ― Rumi
With only 24 hours of free rides up in the sky, I choose India. I’d get to a little fishing village in Kerala, India and stay at Amritapuri Ashram with Amma (Mata Amritanandamayi) and her devotees.
under autumn leaves
dreams of flying far away
home of Krishna
home of Krishna
fishing village by the sea
Amma sings
Amma sings
even snakes bow in honour
petals on her feet
© Tournesol ’15
lacklustre fence
along the railway tracks
nature takes pity
natural beauty spills over
autumn leaves adorn
© Tournesol ’15
boisterous energy
guests finally take their leave
silence is deafening
boisterous energy
contagious laughter
warms her heart
guests finally take their leave
savours cup of camomile
trace of loneliness
silence is deafening
conversations in her mind
mute the quiet
© Tournesol ’15
She loves Thanksgiving. It is a time for her adult children and their partners, her grandsons and even the children’s father to come together. She prepares food for days; sets up the guest room for the boys to play and have fun while the adults eat much slower as they talk of this and that that are of no interest to young boys.
It is better than Christmas because there is no pressure of gift giving and commercialization and the roads are still clean of any snow or ice. It is simply a wonderful meal with many the season’s harvest, pumpkin, squash, yams, cabbage and apples including wine from les Vignoble du Marathonien in Havelock in the Eastern Townships. They are all thankful for this nice long weekend break in the middle of autumn, time to drive through hilly roads admiring the mountains with splashes of red, yellow and amber.
She is the cook and hostess serving one and all. Adults joking and enjoying each other`s company, but the children know who the real life of the party is…
lifting their glasses,
voices rise with laughter
winks at her grandsons
© Tournesol ’15
Carpe Diem Special Tom D’Evelyn’s essay BASHO
The first St-Patrick`s Day parade was celebrated in Montreal in 1759, three years before the start of New York’s well-known parade, in 1762. Rain or shine, snow or sleet, the parade has run consecutively each year since 1824. My great grandfather arrived from Ballybunion, Ireland in Montreal after the Great Famine and was one of the organizers of the St-Patrick’s Day Parade.
It has also been voted by the National Geographic one of the top 10 St. Patrick`s Day celebrations in the world! This does not surprise me. St-Patrick’s Day celebrations are times when politics are set aside and the French and English speaking people parade in the streets of Montreal, Irish pubs are filled with revellers singing, dancing and drinking various ales and draughts …of course there is a lot of green beer too; servers are dressed in costumes dated back to the 19th century.
St-Patrick`s Basilica in Montréal opened on March 17th in 1847 and this church has an even more significant meaning to me as my father’s cousin, Father Michael O’Donnell gave his first mass at St-Patrick’s Baslilica in 1979…a very solemn and moving moment for friends and family.
As a young child, St-Patrick’s explanation of the Holy Trinity made so much sense…
child moves gracefully,
field of three-leaved-grasse
chanting, “three in one!”
© Tournesol ’15
Resources: Montreal Irish Parade – historian’s corner
National Geographic – top 10 St Patrick’s Day Celebrations
Tourisme-Montréal – 10 Fun Facts
Photo credits: Katrin Shumakov at Flickr
I often write about the cherry blossoms at Stanley Park in Vancouver. My first trip there, I met a lovely Japanese couple at the airport on my arrival. It was early April, and they encouraged me to visit Stanley Park, proudly telling me how the Japanese government has donated many cherry trees to Vancouver. I’m so glad they told me and was so enthralled by the beauty of a park situated by the Pacific Ocean, bursting with pale pink flowers throughout the park.
..
I learned later that High Park in Toronto has many cherry trees. “How could I have missed that?” I scold myself, having lived so close to that park for thirteen years. It was only when I moved back to Montreal did I hear of these cherry trees.
cherry blossoms
photoshoot haven,
spring’s promise
© Tournesol ’15
school bell rings and children smile
on their bikes they ride a mile
stranger lurks around corners
That’s when blood shoots through my veins
on a bus some students hop
dropping close, at a bus stop
stranger’s car stalks close to corners
That’s when blood shoots through my veins
at the same place every day
bus stops, kids go on their way
stranger’s car drives from that corner
That’s when blood shoots through my veins
stranger stops beside a child
asks directions, lies so wild!
child approaches warily
That’s when blood shoots through my veins!
child is trusting and so kind
helping is what’s on his mind,
ruthless stranger smiles inside
That’s when blood shoots through my veins!
a lady comes near the boy
gathers time, she must deploy
Shouting Run Run Run!! to the boy
That’s when blood shoots through my veins!
taking off like a bullet
safely home boy gets to it
screeching tires, stranger flees
That’s when blood shoots through my veins!
deviants roam
innocent prey, they search
stranger danger
stranger danger
warning rhyme of chilling threats
beware of strangers
© Tournesol ’15
inner turmoil
deafening – rapids roar
seagulls squeal
inner turmoil
charging waves swell with passion
into waters, spill
deafening – rapids roar
echoes of my rumbling soul
searching inner peace
seagulls squeal
harmonize, my soul’s refrain
puffs over current
OctPoWriMo – 9 How the elements affect me – water – By the river rapids, I feel all stress dissipate slowly dripping into the water, flowing with the current.
The Troiku is a new form of haiku created by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
