like an apple

Crackers, rice, lentils, meat. But I would rather eat a poem, like an apple.


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This spring I’m an artesian spring
Guiding a small arm through its sleeve, tears brim
School drop-off time, our soft eyes meet, tears brim
The parking lot, a pair of ducks, tears brim
At work a strangling case again, tears brim
A sunbeam catches pencil dust, tears brim
The jangled crush of an old song, tears brim
Walking the woods, the dappling light, tears brim
The musty smell of dampened leaves, tears brim
The cat’s face greets us at the door, tears brim
Carrot flesh yields to my knife, tears brim
Dishwashing time, I break a glass, tears brim
Small lips brush my cheek goodnight, tears brim

NaPoWriMo day 17. I set out to try anaphora as a technique, but I thought the phrase I settled on fit better at the end of the lines. The CDHK prompt “springs” was also playing into it.


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CDHK Special: one note of Shakuhachi

This is an edition of the “special” type of prompt, when we try to produce a haiku in the same style and spirit of a master haiku. Here the prompt haiku is by Soen Nakagawa.

One note of the shakuhachi
resounds endlessly
piercing the winter clouds

Here’s mine:

The singing bowl’s song
calling, longing, hanging there
till my bones are air.

Do you know those bowls

 


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You’re right, I never loved you,
It was all about me.

I understand what happened,
and I think we both learned from it.

I still like that coffee shop,
and I hope you do too.

Life is just like this sometimes,
and it’s really not so bad.

I don’t regret a thing,
it’s all experience.

 

NaPoWriMo day 16 (first day of second half! can’t believe I’m still here). Prompt: a ten-line poem made of lies.

 

 


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Embodied and Enmeshed

“We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.”  Joan Didion (↬ Brain Pickings)

“I am a part of all that I have met.” Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Ulysses” (↬ Chicken Farmer I Still Love You)

Did you see the blood red moon?
Did you feel it enter you,
Watch the dusky Delphic photons strewn?

Now no matter what you do,
Some portion of it’s in your flesh,
And that red moon holds some part of you.

Cries and kisses in the creche,
A snake that crossed the path I walked,
A chalk white cow’s skull lying at the fence.

It’s the weight that makes me balk,
Lovers, strangers, all that’s past,
Accreted to me like I was a rock.

My mother said, this too shall pass,
And something leaves, that much is true,
But each of us remains a palimpsest.

Who is the you that watched the moon?
And who am I when I am dead?
Who is the you in me and I in you?

For we are part of all that we have met.

 

NaPoWriMo day 15, the optional prompt is terza rima.  Somehow this came from strange dreams I had, and a different version of the Tennyson quote, which I read about in a post at Jnana Hodson’s blog “Chicken Farmer I Still Love You.”


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Metta Monday: via zenhabits

For a while I was posting each Monday on the topic of lovingkindness, aka “metta.”  I haven’t done that for a while but I do still make a point to read something in that vein each Monday. Today I read this post from Leo at zenhabits. I thought it was great. I love how his writing lately is getting even more direct, honest, down to the bones.


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My suns

Oh my little diamond apples,
How did you grow from this old tree?
Roll in close now, then away,
Sparkle in the sun a piece, to and fro,
You are my nights and days.

Oh you lanky sunflowers,
How tall will you grow?
Turn your face to find the sun,
I’ll try to turn the earth for you,
But know the moon shines too.

Oh precious love puddles,
How you will become!
Love the mud and grass,
Become these sturdy roots, sun-fed.
Holding buried treasure, reach and grow.

NaPoWriMo day 14. Another kenning-inspired one.

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