One thought, not necessarily significant, is placed upon her mind. Anyone else would shake their head at the silly thing and move on, but she is unable to. Seeded, it starts to grow, slowly at first, a single grey tendril. It brings with it a second thought, then a third. Each one produces another, inducing fear and worry. Soon, its gnarled fingers have taken over, invading every peaceful moment. Questions and doubts, her only companions.
Carpe Diem #1413 Loneliness (Haibun in the classical way): “Loneliness … what does it mean for you. Do you choose loneliness sometimes, to find new inspiration and new energy? Loneliness … a strong emotion with a strong task today, because I love to challenge you to create a classical haibun. In other words, the haiku (or tanka) have to be written in the classical way. (More about this classical way of haiku-ing you can find in Carpe Diem Lecture 1) Your haibun may have a maximum of 300 words.”
The Prompt: “write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time. It could be the story of the time your Uncle Louis caught a home run ball, the time your Cousin May accidentally brought home a coyote and gave it a bath, thinking it was a stray dog, or something darker (or even sillier).”
I don’t have any stories that stick out in my mind at the moment so I chose to write about fond summer memories instead.
Prompt: “A Japanese word, CHIJITSU, means LINGERING DAY, or LONG SPRING DAY: a Kigo that, in a way, can apply to both Spring and Autumn—one that invites poets from both hemispheres to write a Haibun from their unique perspective. That is our prompt for today’s Haibun. You may choose to use it in reference to a season, or even metaphorically.”
I am learning how to write haibun. Constructive criticism and helpful insight are welcome and appreciated.
Today I did a micro haibun (less than 55 words). This is my second attempt at a haibun. The form was not required for today’s prompt but I feel it fit this scene best.
Today’s prompt over at NaPoWriMo: “write a poem that prominently features the idea of play. It could be a poem about a sport or game, a poem about people who play (or are playing a game), or even a poem in the form of the rules for a sport or game that you’ve just made up.”
The fountain welcomes strangers with it’s water song. Weeping cherry trees bloom their white dresses just in time for a wedding as benches whisper stories of first loves and stolen kisses. The maple trees laugh at children playing tag and hiding painted rocks. The sidewalks groan at the thought of a new festival season, but the band stand eagerly awaits the crowded lawn and new talent.
Young grass peeks through mud
a new season of laughter
I let the water fall over me
not hot enough to burn but turned up enough to hurt a little
to overpower the pain of the voices
the thoughts that pelt my mind
like pea sized hail in constant down pour
puncturing tiny holes in my sanity
I let out a whispered scream
don’t want to wake my husband and toddler
napping down the hall
my two boys are playing some game downstairs
but they might as well be right outside the door
their whiny voices
“Get your leg off me!”
carry up the stairs penetrating my moment of solitude
I scrub at my scalp
wishing I could peel it off and massage my brain
maybe then it would relax
and give me peace, if only for a little while
I crank up the heat a bit more
Stopping at ‘pink skin hot’
I need a few more minutes