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Posts Tagged ‘#haikuforhealing’

Click over to Mary Lee’s site for more poetry.

 

Fran McVeigh gave me a magnet at NCTE: “Explore new possibilities.”  I’m considering the word explore for my 2018 One Little Word, but for today, it inspired the title for a poem requested by Carol Varsalona for her #AutumnAblaze gallery.  She saw my photograph on Facebook from a recent canoe voyage on the Bayou Teche (pronounced “tesh”).  I loved the photo, too, and was resistant to writing about it.  I want you to know this is still in draft, so you can leave soft critique in the comments.

Duperier Bridge on Bayou Teche, New Iberia, LA. photo by Margaret Simon

Explore New Possibilities

On the water,
the canoe turns
toward a horizon
I do not know.

I paddle-pull
under a bridge,
listen to the rumble-
a passing car

like thunder from rolling clouds.
Under a bridge
where teenagers
huddle close and smoke,

where wooden gates
direct water
as if one could
contain such a wild thing,

a golden sunset
draws me toward
a new destination.

–Margaret Simon

Mary Lee Hahn invites us to join #haikuforhealing. Inspired by the same photo, a haiku:

where road meets water
a bridge, a golden sunset
a new horizon.

–Margaret Simon

 

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Find more celebration posts at Ruth's blog.

Find more celebration posts at Ruth’s blog.

I wasn’t going to write today.  I woke up to freezing temperatures and a yard of wilting plants.   But then I checked my phone and found love in the Twitter feed.

I melted into tears.  I’ve know Leigh Anne virtually for years.  We’ve visited each other’s blogs.  We’ve exchanged teaching ideas.  One summer I did a Google Hang-out with a summer writing class she was teaching.  But we’ve never met in person.  To think that my words could be so inspiring to someone I’ve never met face to face just boggles my mind.

My friend, Julieanne, wrote today about her cyber-bubble, those people we hang out with virtually through Twitter and Facebook, Voxer and Blogger.  In this world, I’ve met some of the most precious people on earth.  I have come to call them friends.

In this daily struggle to understand what the hell we are doing here, my online community holds me together, grounds me, helps me to see what is truly important.

My OLW this year is Cherish.  Leigh Anne coined the term Cherishment.  I cherish all of you who click over to this space and read and comment and otherwise spread the love.  Please take a minute to go to Leigh Anne’s blog today.  She made a poem from comments on my blog.  I plan to print the poem and keep it close.

On Wednesday this week, my body revolted.  I had a violent and mean stomach virus.  Along with cherishing others this year, I want to cherish my own body.  I hated it with a passion on Wednesday, but a miracle shot from my trusted physician made it all better.

Today, I was encouraged by a friend to attend a yoga class.  I haven’t done yoga in a while and was worried about how my body would work.  The instructor calmed me throughout and by the end of the session, I was weeping.  Cherish seems to lead me to tears.  I was overwhelmed by the feeling of peace and the comfort.  This feeling calls for a  healing haiku.

pranayama-haiku

#haikuforhealing #haikuforhope #commonplacemarvels #cherishment

 

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Find more celebration posts at Ruth's blog.

Find more celebration posts at Ruth’s blog.

 

For the last 13 years my father has created a drawing for my parents’ annual Christmas card.  In 2013, I published a small chapbook of his drawings along with poems that I wrote.  The book, Illuminate, seems to still be available on Amazon.

Earlier this week I visited my parents and talked to my dad about this year’s card.  This summer, my husband Jeff was building a pirogue in our carport.  When he was close to finishing, I took a picture and posted it on Facebook.

jeff-with-pirogue

 

The artist in my dad saw this image.

what-dad-saw

 

He emailed me and asked for the picture.  Then he blew it up and printed only the trees from the background.  These are crepe myrtle trees that are actually on the front of our house.

The photograph became the inspiration for his abstract drawing.  My dad works with pen and ink in pointillism.  Each drawing is a miracle.  I celebrate this creative gift.

John Gibson, 2016

John Gibson, 2016

 

Haiku #31

Happy New Year’s Eve!
Even trees have a party.
Sparks of light illume.

Thanks to Mary Lee Hahn for the haiku-a-day challenge. I celebrate:

  • We lightened the world with our words.
  • We grew as a community of writers.
  • We made it.

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Poetry Friday is at Donna's site: Mainly Write

Poetry Friday is at Donna’s site: Mainly Write

In November at NCTE16, I was privileged to finally meet poet Jeannine Atkins.  I got a copy of her upcoming book in verse, Stone Mirrors.  I didn’t know what this book was about.  I just loved the cover.

stone-mirrors

 

The beauty of this book is on the inside and the outside.  Jeannine tells the story of Edmonia Lewis, a Objibwe-Haitian-American woman, who in 1862, had the rare chance to attend Oberlin.  While there, she became mixed up in a controversy over poisoning.  She was acquitted, but forced to leave the school.  Her future took her to Boston and Italy where she became a successful sculptor.

The facts, however, are not the important aspects of this story.  What I found intriguing was Jeannine’s unique way of writing story in verse.  As I read, I was drawn in  by the melody of the language as well as the fascinating story. I loved following Edmonia through her growing confidence as an artist and as a woman.  I wonder how Jeannine got into the mind of Edmonia.  How did she know the feel of the stone she carved?  “She hammers out stillness, holding a life in mid-speech or stride, like a deer between danger and trust.”

Intertwined into the story of Edmonia Lewis are lines of wisdom, carved into Jeannine’s poems like the images Edmonia carved in stone.

Broken Colors

Edmonia carves the smokey smell of drawing pencils,
like a burned-down fire, and hardening clay,
with its whiff of a pond bottom.  She goes to the art room,
where each mark on paper offers a new chance.
She has nothing left but hunger for beauty,
small as the tip of a paintbrush.

She wishes the stove were lit,
though if smoke rose she might not be alone.
She smashes ice that sheathes
a jar of water to rinse a paintbrush.
She no longer draws goddesses, gods,
or anyone in transformation.
White people think metaphor belongs to them.

She opens a cupboard with boxes
printed with names, none hers.
She reads them as if studying a map
of places no one expects her to see.
The shelves and boxes are divided
like classrooms where walls come between
art, poetry, and myth. In history class,
teachers separate the dead from the living.
All through the school, lines are drawn between
right and wrong, white and colored, rich and poor,
truth and lies, facts and dreams, courage and fear,
what belongs to one person and what doesn’t.
They forget that every time the wind blows,
the world asks everyone to bend.

from Stone Mirrors, Jeannine Atkins, January 2017

 

On a recent trip through New Orleans, we crossed the Hale Boggs Bridge. My daughter was driving, so I could take this amazing picture. As the time changes over to a new year, I contemplate what may lie ahead.

Towers reach for time Carved into parting clouds Tuning my future Margaret Simon #haikuforhealing

Towers reach for time
Carved into parting clouds
Tuning a future
Margaret Simon
#haikuforhealing

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Inspiration for today’s haiku came from my weekly email from Poets & Writers:

Poetry Prompt
“In the red room there is a sky which is painted over in red / but is not red and was, once, the sky. / This is how I live. / A red table in a red room filled with air.” Using these lines from Rachel Zucker’s “Letter [Persephone to Demeter]” as inspiration, write a poem where everything in the environment is red, as though the speaker is looking through red glass.

red-leaves

We search the dry land
for Persephone’s
majestic red shoes

–Margaret Simon

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Little blackbird fly; Find in me a soaring joy filling up the sky. Margaret Simon #haikuforhealing
Little blackbird fly;
Find in me a soaring joy
filling up the sky.
Margaret Simon
#haikuforhealing

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Before the rain on this grey winter day, I took a walk down Dover Lane where my parents live. Taking a walk in a different place makes me more alert to the #commonplacemarvels. I was also looking for writing inspiration. On this 27th day of Mary Lee Hahn’s haiku challenge, my inspiration is waning. I know as a writer and because Mary Oliver says so, we must pay attention.

I stopped to capture images to later inspire writing.  Haiku can be challenging in its constraint of 5, 7, 5 syllables, but in that constraint, I can find a nugget that says everything.

 

cracked-tree-dover-lane

I

Old, cracked, leaning in
open to new life, fresh roots
nature’s the sculptor

street-repair-art

II

Tar trails twirl around
dancing on this walking path
road repair art

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