Movement

the more you arrive at the end,
the more you remain
at the beginning –
see the koel, with monk-like eyes,
watching the black crow’s nest

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In the mood for micropoetry…

Haven't written a lot of micropoetry since November 2017, when I hosted 
Micropoetry Month (You can also find the link in the sidebar). 
Time to give it another shot, maybe?

(1)
nothing
black wing on tangerine sky
and…still…nothing

(2)
summer solstice
how short this night
how long her empty sigh

(3)
one moon stirred pond
one splash of insomniac frog
what are the odds

(4)
rain falls on glass
on tile
on leaves-
so many ways
the sky calls out your name

(5)
wordless question
slanting shadows
kneel on the bamboo mats

(6)
between her and the night
a paper lantern
with one eye

(7)
even the moth
that burns in the flame
first sees the light

(8)
in the distance
autumn
I tremble with the leaves

(9)
stirring the afternoon
lone crow
with a broken wing

Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #30

Micropoetry MonthOn this last day of the first edition of Micropoetry Month, I thought we’d take a look at the Jisei, the Japanese Death Poem. The Jisei, written about death in general or about one’s own imminent death, reflects the poet’s contemplation of his mortality, of what was and what comes next both in the context of self and universe.

One translation of Basho’s famous Jisei goes like this:

On a journey, ill—
And my dreams on withered fields
Are wandering still.

I attempted a jisei a couple of years ago, here’s another shot at it. Share your micropoem, about death or maybe about life, using comments or Mister Linky.

And when I realize
there was no now,
that life, like time, was a linear illusion.
Like death.
What then?

A cherita as well in the same tone:

she wrote her jisei in six lines

one line about
the fickle, waning moon

two about a persistent mist,
and three about a hobbled dream
waiting for a perfect night

 

A very warm note of thanks to everyone who was part of Micropoetry Month – as reader, participant, inspiration or supporter. Thank you for your poems, your likes, your comments. I enjoyed writing. I enjoyed reading. And I hope we can do this, or something like this, again soon. Meanwhile, I will continue to post micropoetry and other poems on this blog and haibun on my other blog Phantom Road.  You can find me on twitter @tp_poetry. See you on the trail! 

Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #18

Micropoetry MonthYesterday’s experiment with tanka impels me  to take it further with ‘Tanka Prose’. Like a haibun but with a signature tanka instead of a haiku, this is an excellent form to stretch one’s imagination and word crafting skills even further.

Try this or any other form of micropoetry and share using comments or Mister Linky.

Without Words

For days we climbed together. Sometimes they disappeared into the mist ahead, sometimes they lingered on the edges. I could always hear their whispered voices, even as the sky slipped closer. But now the words are gone and I have been orphaned by the need to speak. In their soundless absence, the river is just one ceaseless motion, the moon in it is just a point of reflection and this moment is both big enough to fill the universe and small enough to tremble as the cold wind rushes by. What will the birds call me if I do not have a name?

on the other side
of the horizon-
the eagle’s wing
dips into
the silent dark

 

Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #17

Micropoetry MonthA couple of tanka this Friday morning!
The beauty of tanka comes from the juxtaposition of disparate images, the gentle twist, the tug of emotion.

Try a tanka or two! Share your own micropoetry using comments or Mister Linky.

(1)

candles and flowers,
an impromptu memorial
where the horror struck-
one goodbye on a page ripped
from a new school book

(2)

the moon and I
like strangers
in an elevator-
trying not to look
at each other