Detailed stains
Glove her dainty hands.
Celebrate
A wedding,
Engagement, or fun with friends-
Let joy stain your soul.
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #161, a photo prompt. Henna tattoos interest me in that it’s a tattoo without needles.
The mad scientist created
Freeze rays and said, “This is the best,
I dare anyone to beat me.
I’ll freeze banks and avoid arrest,
Then freeze folks at the city hall
To cause the government to fall.
Yessir, I’m gonna have a ball,
With my freeze ray and my money.
This poem was pooped out of somewhere for the Terrible Poetry Contest #55, “Big Rock Candy Mountain.” In order to do this, I had to read up on the song and found out it was supposed to be about Hobo Paradise. I wrote about Mad Science Paradise.
I chose this photo because all the science done in the 50’s and 60’s was mad science because they didn’t really care if they died from some insane exposure to chemicals or whatever.
Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash
Serene, hushed lake
Plants and animals now sleep
Wait for ice to melt
Serene hush
Lake, fish, cat-tails, now
Solid ice
Placid
Now frozen
Iced lake
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #160, Calm and Present (synonyms are in bold). Recently amongst the blog-o-sphere (or cube? why can’t it be a cube?), there’s been some controversy over how long to make an English haiku. Each of these were intended to be closely related, but they’re obviously not the same.
Which length do you prefer?
You carried me.
I didn’t ask,
But then again,
I couldn’t speak.
You settled me
On soft, silken,
Pinkest pillow,
Kissed me tender.
My eyes were shut,
But I still knew
You adored me.
I cherished you.
I wanted to
Clean the sad pile
Of tissues at
Your well shod feet.
Did my urges
Disrespect your
Sadness and grief?
I allowed tears.
Upon your exit
Through sanctum’s door,
Someone shut my
Coffin’s wood lid.
When you returned,
You carried me
In my casket
To earthen home.
But my spirit
Carries you now
Until you come
To rest by me.
This was written for the January 9th Carrot Ranch prompt. Sure, I took a long time getting to it, but it also took a long time to figure out what to write. Also it didn’t turn out to be a flash, but you know, I tried…
Living
Exhausting days,
Tiring, sleepless darkness,
Elicited madness in her.
Survive.
Slinging
Cruel statements
To hide dishonor
Against her failed ambitions.
Careless.
Reaching
Depressed stages,
Hopelessness inching in,
She concocted a fantasy.
Straining.
Growing
Cucumber dreams,
Night-times of potatoes,
Sublime and pumpkin reveries.
Working.
Never
Sluggish despite
Corrupt voices’ chiding,
Her delusional garden grew
Lifelong.
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday prompt, poet’s choice. I chose the crown cinquain to honor my grandmother, who this poem was written about. She was absolutely, totally insane, but despite this she held so much of the family together and made her garden fantasy a reality.
Because the bleeding heart flowers represented this poem well, I chose to use a picture previously shared by Alexander Eliot for a prompt. Check out his work too – he’s got a load of stories and some really nice photography.
Salvation
From infernos and
Damnation;
Sacrifice
Self for love, commutation
Of darling’s penance.
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #158, a photoprompt based on the given image. If I’m remembering correctly from my knowledge of the scientific world, the image is supposed to be an aerogel (a very light gel material with aqueous material inside the crosslinks) that is lifted by the hot air blowing beneath it. The flower is protected by the water in the gel, which is where I came up with the salvation theme of my shadorma.
Icebound sentinels
Overlooking valleys grim
Sun holds prison keys
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday Challenge #156, poet’s choice of words.
I took this picture something like a decade ago, during a winter storm that coated every branch, leaf, and needle with a thin, exacting layer of crystal ice. You couldn’t drive anywhere, the electricity was down, and the phones were all useless. The mountains felt like a prison.
Rush food to table;
Enjoy the feast ’til last bite
But hate the banter.
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #155, hurry and end (synonyms in bold). There was an alternative option to write about what Thanksgiving means to me so, since I am hopelessly allergic to interactions with a certain in-law, I wrote a wicked little senryu.
Squeaks of sunset haze
Cue the start of night’s forays;
Bats on insects graze.
This was written for the photo prompt challenge in Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #154!
I’m pretty sure this picture is of those epic bat caves in Arizona. Because of the natural elements in the picture, I felt it best to write a haiku. It rhymes, though, which I’m not sure is supposed to be ok or not.
Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay
She
Lived
With aplomb
Despite trouble
With her sister’s son.
Her sister was deaf, dumb,
And didn’t want pregnancy.
But poor thing didn’t have a choice,
So barren sister Grace took in the boy.
She raised him with joy, with love, with honor.
But he lived in the vein of his father,
Took the mantle of rapist himself,
Then was carted off to prison.
“You spoilt him,” cried folks at church.
“It’s your fault,” they accused.
She couldn’t fight back.
She made some pink
Lemonade,
Sipped,
Cried.
This poem was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #153, Grace and Style (synonyms in bold). When I saw the word “grace,” I instantly thought of that inimitable character I’ve spoken of so many times on this blog – Mama Grace – and how she seemed the absolute definition of grace to me growing up. I learned about her deep struggles after she died, but I remember sipping pink lemonade with her in a neat-as-a-pin house after her husband died.
I don’t know what happened to the sister.
Photo by jousi osorio on Unsplash
