Thursday, August 16, 2018

A Poem Without Meaning/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Poem Without Meaning

A poem as confusing as can be
Words put together
Without meaning
I read your words carefully

Upon completion I wonder
What in the world are you saying
A poem without meaning
Back to the drawing board

So, they say
Gather words
Burn the house down
Tell me your heart

August 16, 2018

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

School Daze/dVerse

School Daze

My school was old
Red brick buildings
The teachers were the same
Tall ceilings
The windows went 
All the way to the top

On warm days 
The teacher would open
Those very tall windows
The breeze would come in
And cool down the stuffy room

Which smelled of disinfectant
And eraser dust and paste
Lockers were in the back of the room
Where we would remove our coats
And place our lunch

The halls were dark
Light would stream in 
From the end of the hall
The floors polished

The play yard barren
There was some play equipment
And a tennis court
We played group games
At recess
I remember a circle
A red scarf and running

I was a good student
But someone was talking
All the time
Would interrupt my thoughts
At last, I found out it was me

August 15, 2018

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Hand Holding Day/imaginary gardens with real toads

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of Summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018

My favorite box....dVerse

My favorite box
Is made of wood
Several different kinds of wood
In the shape of a heart

It resides in a small skin wrapper
When open it reveals nothing
It is empty
Yet so beautiful

The beauty of it
Fills my lonely heart

August 14, 2018

Monday, August 13, 2018

Hand Holding Day/dVerse

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers/the suday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers

The desert is quiet
Thin blue lizards 
Sit on rocks
Blend into their world

When it rains
Longing does not yield
Its grip on the heart
All is quiet except

For the rhythmic rain drops
Falling on the roof
Like the ticking of the clock
Later… when the sky is brilliant

Weather dry 
Tail dusty
You will wonder about 
The dark mood that colored
Your world  

The Rio Grand
Still sleeping in its bed
A tune lilting on the wind
Ripples the surface
Speckled trout
Swim below

August 12th, 2018

Wordle 364

Thursday, August 9, 2018

CALLING UP GRIEF/imaginary gardens with real toads


In dead of winter
“under the night sky she mounted a mare and rode”
No one knew where she rode
On those dark and dreary nights

She always pointed to the paint
Brown and white, In the field
She always said it was hers
The one she rode under the night sky

A pretty little girl
Sheltered and protected from
All things that hurt
And yet, over time

Hurt would find her
Like a curse
Dictated by 
The local witch

Her urge to ride
Could come at any time
Was not limited
To the dead of winter
She said, she was calling up grief

August 9, 2018



I have always found 
It difficult
To believe
What I cannot experience

And yet 
time is a good example
I am here
Time passes

I cannot see it
Time passes
I cannot feel it
Time passes 

I have become 
An old woman
Unaware of passing time
Each day
Seems to be exactly
Like the day before

Another example
Is the “Soul”
What is it
Where is it
How to know
It exists

Someone told me once
It is the “you of you”
The very essence of you
That makes sense
I will accept it

August 9, 2018

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

A POEM ABOUT A POEM/poets united midweek motif


A poem about a poem
Oh, let me see…
I stop along the road
And I wait for it to catch 
Up with me

Tell me who you are
And what business
Do you have with me
You say you are a counter
You will count the tears for me

You say you are an explorer
And you will help me see
You say you are a master
You will hold my thoughts
For me, until I am able to
Hold them for myself

You say you like to play
And you never know for sure
Exactly where you are going
You are big enough to hold
All of the thoughts unspoken

You are a good friend
And promise to always
Be there for me
To have and to hold
From this day forward
Until the end of days

August 8, 2018

Sunday, August 5, 2018

WORDS BOUND TOGETHER WITH TWINE/the sunday whirl -- poets united poets pantry


On another day
In another time
Far away
Bones were stacked
Like cord wood
Tied with a skein 
Of woolen yarn
The color red

The sound of a guitar
Floats above the sage
Joins the sounds of church bells
That welcome the morning
A sweet refrain

On another day
In another time
Far away
We walked along the sea
Kicked sand
Collected shells
You would run to each shell
Bend down
Examine it carefully

Today, with the weight of the world
Upon us
We collect stones
Count shameful transgressions
Rest in the shade
Of our wig-wam
Bind words together with twine

August 5, 2018

Wordle 363  

Saturday, August 4, 2018

STILL LIFE/imaginary gardens with real toads

Still Life

Be she alive
Or be she dead 
She sits 
With her feet in water
As still as a stone

Does she speak…
What does she say…
Is it she who looks
At me
Or is it me
Looking at her

So is the still life
Still as a stone
Waiting for you alone

Was she placed there
To celebrate the occasion…
And is now limp
And dying
For waiting
For you alone

The phone rings
She answers the phone
No longer the still life
She was originally
No longer dying
While waiting for you

August 3, 2018


Thursday, August 2, 2018

DOPPLEGANGER/imaginary gardens with real toads


One day
You brought a picture
That to you thought looked
Just like me

I kept it for a long time
And then it slipped
From my knowing
Did it really look like me

Or was it in your eyes
You could see
The face of a girl
That looked just like me

Each leaf on the tree
Is different
Yes, they all look
Like leaves

But still different
No one is really is
Just the same
As another
We are each unique

August 2, 2018

Have you ever wondered if there is someone who looks just like you, but you've never met them? I've been told numerous times I have a twin. Well, not an actual genetic one, but someone who bears a strong resemblance. I've yet to meet my doppelganger.

Of course there are those distant relatives living and deceased who have marked resemblances to yourself or another family member. My youngest daughter, Carrie, bears an uncanny resemblance to Cher. There is a genetic connection because Cher's mother and my father were distant cousins. Carrie doesn't always look like Cher. It can come in the tilt of her head, a smile, or her theatrical ability to slip into a character. 


Doppelganger literally means double walker. There have been numerous references to them throughout history. They have been referred to as ghosts or the speculation we humans are time travelers. In this picture my husband Charlie was eighteen years old on a family vacation. He is on the far left with a girl standing behind him. One day he was looking at the picture and called me to come look at it. We both agreed the girl standing behind him held an unsettling resemblance to Dawn when she was seventeen. Is it possible? Is he playing ping pong with his daughter who traveled back to the future? 


For today's challenge I want you to write about an encounter with your doppelganger/time traveler. It could be a painting, a photo album, a magazine, or face to face. Meet him/her in whatever circumstances your imagination creates. Please make sure it is a new poem, post it on Mr. Linky, and visit your fellow poets to discover their responses to their double walkers.

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

"A BUNDLE OF CONTRATICTIONS"/poets united midweek motif/"a bundle of contradictions"


First, I say 
I do 
And then, I say
I won’t

Yes, sometimes
I am a bundle of contradictions
First, I think it is this way
Then, I think it is that

I say yes
And then I say no
Gathered into a bundle
Tied with a bow

Life is like that
So much is offered
We agree
With careful consideration
Maybe not

What road to choose
The road least taken
Or the road
Worn and old

So many decisions
Never knowing
What is right
What is wrong

August 1, 2018

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

AUTUMN IN THE JEMEZ/imaginary gardens with real toads


Yes, it was that day
The one we have 
All been waiting for
A sweet day in autumn

We were hiking in the Jemez
In a canyon
With tall dried grasses
Suddenly we heard
Sounds bouncing
Off canyon walls

It was hard to tell 
Where it was coming from
Soft hoots
Echoing back and forth

We hurried our steps
Was it up ahead
What was it
Then we saw the sandhill cranes

Making their migratory
To the Bosque
Later we were told

Because of the waves
From Los Alamos 
The cranes become lost
They must circle several times

To find their way
It is true for humans too
Sometimes we must
Try more than once 
To find our way

July 30, 2018

Sunday, July 29, 2018

A DAY AT THE BEACH/sunday whirl wordle #362 poets united imaginary gardens with real toads


As I sat on the staircase
And dreamed myself away
Anywhere anytime
Somewhere else…

On the Texas coast
The Gulf of Mexico
Enchantment by the sea
We did not have to travel far

Volleyball in the sand
Just a little trip
Another world
Sand on the beach

Stretched as far as you could see
Waves rolled to the shore
To crash over you and me
A large picnic basket

And a blue ice chest 
A day at the beach
What a gift it was
Take pictures of day

Memories stored deep in the heart
Would not soon fade away
The sun set in the west
A bonfire

To light up the beach
Soon it was time
To shake out the sand
Fold up the quilt
And return to our everyday 

July 29, 2018

Friday, July 27, 2018



The leaves rustle
In the wind
Though this morning is quiet
Not a breath
The sky a forever blue
The blue of the uniform

Forward march
Like a shade drawn
Over the mountains
A lovely shade of orchid-blue
I remember the image of you

Strong and straight
A boy grown into a man
You walk away
Through the tall grass
Into forgotten yesterdays

July 20, 2018

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

WILDERNESS/poets united midweek motif/wilderness


Most of what was wild
Has been stamped out

Still I am told
There are wild things
Which brave the urban blight
All kinds of bugs

I am told there is one rat
For each citizen
In New York City
And of course

There are all kinds 
Of wild things
Once called humans
Lose in the city

What is wild
Out of the ordinary
Those with a different point of view

July 25, 2018

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

CHILD OF THE FOREST/imaginary garden with real toads tuesday platform


Deep within the forest
The path is obscured
By the pounding rain
Trapped by the canopy

Softly I call your name
Wait for your answer
Which comes to me
As pale as an echo

I listen to the forest sounds
Softly sliding down the hill
The rain refreshes the moment
The path appears

Before me
Deep within
The heart of the forest
You wait for me

July 21, 2018


It is winter, no snow on the ground, as it rarely snowed on the Texas Coast, yet it was very cold. We drew our coats closer.  We entered the old farm house.  The wood stove in the kitchen was burning.  The room was a warm and cherry greeting for the new family. There were barns and sheds outside for the animals.  As you looked across the fields you could see forever. 

In the large main room, I remember my older Sister studying by the light of an oil lamp.  There was a warmth in the room, the whole family gathered there.

I remember my Sister had a little pet turtle, a little green one.  And then he got lost, no one could find him.  Every one looked high and low.  Later when we moved to town, we found him, in the corner behind the bed.

In our new house in town, the wall paper in the bedroom that I shared with my Sister, had little white lambs on the wall paper.  I remember my Father explaining to us, we were not to color the lambs, and we never did.

The cold wind blew-
In the outhouse
We found a snake

July 24, 2018

Posted by lillian in Haibun Monday
Bear with me and please read my entire post here, even if you’ve done haibun many times before.
** THE HAIBUN WAS ORIGINATED by 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho, who often wrote haibun as travel accounts, the most famous of which is Oku no Hosomichi (Narrow Road to the Interior). 

** FIRST ANTHOLOGY OF ALL ENGLISH-LANGUAGE HAIBUN: Bruce Ross’s Journey to the Interior: American Versions of Haibun, published in 1998.
A HAIBUN IS: 1 or 2 short prose paragraphs followed by 1 haiku.
The PROSE PARAGRAPHS must be a true accounting, not fiction; not flash fiction.
The HAIKU, in the traditional manner, is trickier to me. Notice the musts below:
§  It must be nature based
§  It must be three lines (5-7-5 syllables OR short-long-short)
§  It must have a direct or subtle relationship to the prose paragraphs; enrich the prose without condensing the prose.
§  It must include a KIGO (word or phrase associated with a particular season). See suggestions below in section on the SAIJIKI.
§  Trickiest for me – although only 3 lines, a haiku must have two parts including a shift, an added insight. Japanese poets include a KIREJI (cutting word). BUT there’s no linguistic equivalent in the English language therefore punctuation creates the cut: a dash, comma, an ellipsis, an exclamation point. Sometimes it’s simply felt in the pacing or reading.
Japanese poets often use a SAIJIKI – a book like a dictionary or almanac for KIGO. Divided into the 4 seasons, it includes categories within each: earth, humanity, observances, animals and plants. I found this VERY HELPFUL!
For example, under SPRING KIGO you find words like warm (weather changes from cold to warm; water becomes warm); spring mist and spring haze. Under Animals: frogs (noted for their singing); skylarks (in flight); swallows, and twittering (singing of songbirds). Under Plants: blossoms, cherry blossom-viewingwildflowers.
In AUTUMN KIGO: full moon. Under Humanity: scarecrow. Observances: grave visiting. Animals: crickets. Plants: apples, persimmons, colored leaves.
In WINTER KIGO. Humanity: snow viewing, first snow, ice. Plants: fallen and dried leaves. New Year: first laughter.
In other words, you may or may not actually use the words summer, spring, winter, or autumn.
EXAMPLES OF HAIKU with a Kigo and a Kireji (added insight after a cut)
The crow has flown away:
swaying in the evening sun
a leafless tree.            
                      Natsume Soseki (186 –1916)
fresh snow on the mat –
the shape of welcome
still visible
                     Michael Dylan Welch
too dark to read the page,
too cold. 
                    Jack Kerouac
 Yuki Teikei Haiku Society’s Season Word List contains KIGO hints/words I found very helpful. 
So today,
**Let’s journey together into an interior. Go back in time to one of the very first houses you remember living in. Try to recall a room or place in that house. Take your mind around the room to see what details you can picture. Do you remember this room because of something that happened there…..or someone who habitually sat there?
**Your haibun will begin with 1 or 2 tight paragraphs of prose describing that room. Take us into its interior. It must be a true accounting; not fiction.
**Add a TRADITIONAL haiku. Follow the haiku musts given above. If you just skipped down the post to read this prompt, go back up to read the musts for a haiku – and the section on the SAIJIKI. Let’s try our hand at a traditional haiku!
I’ve always said, I learn so much at dVerse! I love its camaraderie in the writing, learning, and appreciation of everyone’s posts. 

I look forward to, in the words of Bruce Ross, your Journey to the Interior – and seeing how traditional you can be with the haiku portion of your haibun!