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Procession (Haibun – Adventure)

Originally posted on Blog It or Lose It!:

friday fictioneers dee lovering

With any luck, the procession will come my way this time.

While the breeze slowly disassembles the web of streamers overhead, I grow anxious.  The locals are hostile, and I am exposed.   I shift from foot to foot and listen carefully.

whispering /
wind in paper fingers /
mimics rustling leaves //

My job is to radio the Special Response Team the moment I see the bride.

from ancient alleys /
hints of muffled voices /
sound shadows //

What kind of gown does an assassin wear?  Lost in thought, I almost miss the distant roar.

Gone. Again.

motorcycle revs /
unseen bird flutters /
in its hidden roost //

Our task for Friday Fictioneers was to write a 100-word story about Dee Lovering’s photo.  I chose to write an action-adventure haibun. (Sorry purists – I had to do it!)


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De l’art de juger… “le pénis est-il un légume?”

Originally posted on Envie de vibes positives ?:

Il y a quelques années, une première femme – que je croyais une amie – m’a dit : ” Je ne me laisse pas sauter par tout le monde. Comment vas-tu dire à ton futur mari tous les hommes que tu as eu?”

Je suis restée estébécouée.
Comment savait-elle que j’allais me marier ?

En cette belle année 2014, 2 ou 3 jours après le 1er, j’ai reçu un message facebook d’une seconde femme – que je croyais une amie -, portée disparue depuis deux ans, qui m’a écrit sans “bonjour” ni “bonne année :
“Je tiens à te dire que je t’ai jugé mais je n’ai jamais osé te l’écrire, je t’ai jugé pour ton comportement avec les hommes. Du fait que tu donnes ton corps sans amour.”

Encore un peu, j’ai cru qu’elle allait me parler tarification.

Je suis restée estébécouée.
Comment avait-elle pu se rappeler de…

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Should the United States Free Jonathan Pollard?

After he was caught spying on behalf of Israel, Pollard eventually cooperated with investigators in exchange for a plea agreement for leniency for himself and his wife. Israel claimed initially that Pollard worked for an unauthorized rogue operation, a position they maintained for more than ten years, and agreed to cooperate with the investigation in exchange for immunity for the Israelis involved.

When asked to return the stolen material, the Israelis reportedly only turned over a few dozen low-classified documents. At the time, the Americans knew that Pollard had passed tens of thousands of documents. When American investigators traveled to Israel they were treated with hostility from the moment they arrived in Israel to the moment they left. The Israelis created a schedule designed to wear them down, including many hours per day of commuting in blacked out buses on rough roads, and frequent switching of buses leaving them without adequate time to sleep and preventing them from sleeping on the commute. The identity of Pollard’s original handler, Sella, was withheld. All questions had to be translated into and answered in Hebrew, and then translated back into English, even though all the parties spoke perfect English. The Commander Jerry Agee remembers that, even as he departed the airport, airport security made a point of informing him that “you will never be coming back here again”; Agee found various items had been stolen from his luggage, upon his return to the United States. The abuse came not only from the guards and officials, but also the Israeli media.

Aviem Sella, Pollard’s initial Israeli contact, was eventually indicted on three counts of espionage by an American court.Israel refused to allow him to be interviewed unless he was granted immunity. The United States refused because of Israel’s previous failure to cooperate as promised. Israel then refused to extradite Sella, instead giving him command of Tel Nof Airbase. The US Congress responded by threatening to cut aid to Israel, at which point Sella voluntarily stepped down to defuse tensions.

(information from Wikipedia and multiply-sourced)

Yet another American in a government position who puts the brutally Apartheid regime of Israel ahead of his own nation’s security and well-being. The answer to my question is a definite no.

Friday Fictioneers: Traffick fatality

Originally posted on This, that and the other thing:

Who:     Anyone

What:   Friday Fictioneers

When:  Any time from Wednesday morning to Tuesday evening

Where:  Rochelle’s blog

How:  Write a one-hundred word complete story based on the weekly photo prompt

Why:  Why not?

Copyright Kent Bonham

Copyright Kent Bonham

 Traffic Fatality

Merciless lights detail the broken, tortured body tied to the bed. Before being snuffed for the movie, she was used (misused) repeatedly by each of the men roughly arrested. Some officers swear almost continuously; the least experienced is sick in the corner. No one mocks him.

Dearest Mama and Papa,
Gregor says he can get me a modeling job in America for much more than my maid job pays. I’m so excited for this opportunity. He says I might become famous! It will be so wonderful! When I have enough money, I will send for all of you.
Love, Tania.


Human trafficking is a growing, horrific problem…

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The Woods

Originally posted on camgal:

First off, I want to quickly drop a line and acknowledge that March 15th was my blog’s two year anniversary! Moving on.

Friday Fictioneers is here again, led by Rochelle at rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com

Each writer posts a 100 word story in either prose or verse, based on the photo prompt. To join the fun or read more fantastic stories, click on the blue guy below.

Copyright-John Nixon

Copyright- John Nixon

The Woods

Round and round and around they went

Kept on running until their energy was spent

Tiring was the act of running for one’s life

But with choices so bleak, it was definitely better than necks slit carefully by a pen knife

They were warned, warned and warned sternly

That the woods were more brutal than friendly

Woe was them if only they had listened

The woods filled with the sweat and blood of others was the secret to how the leaves…

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International Womens’ Day

Sadly, World Book Day yesterday seemed to pass almost unnoticed on WordPress, and could only be found on Twitter – unbelievably, actually, considering the amount of reading and writing here…

Still, we have International Woman’s Day, to make up for it.

Happy International Womens’ Day, women everywhere.









Carpe Diem Haiku Special *Alexey Andreyev’s “Morning Awakening”*

Originally posted on Ese' s Voice:

This week our inspiration on Carpe Diem Special is another haiku, written by Alexey Andreyev (Алексей Андреев):

* * *
morning awakening:
among window curtains’ flowers
a blade of gray sky

* * *

The following one is mine, where I tried to stay close to the same mood and spirit:

* * *
tea ceremony
among cherry blossom kimonos
glimpse of pale wrist

* * *
Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

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Shaman Haiku

Shaman haiku are a genre that I think have just been started at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

Here’s what I think they feature:

  • the presence of a shaman, or shamanistic object or ritual
  • or the presence of a wild (ie free, culturally apt) animal specifically linked to shamanistic practice
  • a haiku where there is something akin to a shaman’s journey. Ie, it cannot be static, may have dream-like qualities but they should also then include the above.
  • the reader is no longer the appreciative audience, but is directly involved in the haiku, the journey or happening.The reader moves along with the haiku. In fact, the reader is the haiku.
  • following are four excellent and topical examples of shaman haiku, or shaman-influenced haiku. As far as I am concerned, they are the first four of the genre, started by Kristjaan Panneman, who runs Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, and who writes haiku under the pen name of Chèvrefeuille. The first haiku is his. See how you soar with the eagle. Why is the cry silent. Is it within you? Why did the eagle ‘step’ into the world of dreams? Was it the last step into the void, to soar? Was it a shaman’s step? Was it your step into the haiku?

flight of the eagle
stepping into the world of dreams -
a silent cry

The next haiku is by Ryan. Notice, and feel, the sudden jolted stop. Specifically matched to the increasing tempo. Then notice the sudden silence around you. It may be that I would be even more sparse with the words, dropping the ‘also’, but I did not think of, nor write, nor could write the haiku, so that is presumptuous and pretentious of me. Written by Bryan Ens.

the drum beats faster
while heart-rates increase also
sudden stop. peace

The third haiku was written by Asni. It is a pearl. Just look at that. The release. The eagle suddenly soaring. From where? From the reader momentarily? At what stage? Now read it again. Can you see other possibilities? Wonderful.                                     

faster and faster
the beating of my heart …
an eagle’s cry

Now look at how Bjorn Rudberg composes a haibun, with a one line/17 syllable *American sentence* haiku at the conclusion. Notice how the readers ‘feels’ and ‘senses’ the haiku. Actually, that one line haiku is so full I think I should refrain from comment and just let you experience the sensations. But look at what Bjorn did, also, to build you to that moment; to set the scene.

At some point in our long trip I realize that, though the taiga looks much the same we have came so far into the east, that the train is the thin rope that still connects us to the familiarity of the west we know. We are divide from the forests and the big rivers only by the thin shell of the railway car. We live in bubble of western life but I still sense an unfamiliar taste in the tea from the samovar in the corridor. Like the breath from a dragon I feel the iciness of the air as I open the window to let the Siberian air replace the stale smell of cigarette smoke.

The air filled with drumbeats from a shaman’s skin smells like fresh pine needles

I think the connection to the wilderness of nature and spiritual nature of shamanism is clear in all four haiku, that seem to flow so well together in this new theme or genre. I will attempt mine now. I am quite confident I cannot match any of the four of the above.

under an eagle
I dance to the heart beat
of a shaman’s drum

The haiku is fine, but I am happy it shows, and really highlights, just how wonderful the four above are. http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.fi/


Shaman Woman by Ksenia Spanielf Savchenko

Carpe Diem Haiku – hunger moon

This feature is very similar with the other Special feature “Make The Haiku Complete”. So if you would read more than visit  “Carpe Diem Haiku Kai”

Here is the First Line to use in the haiku. 
hunger moon

“Hunger Moon” is the name of the full moon of January as it is mentioned in Thomas’s ‘Old Farmers Almanac’ (founded in 1792). During this month the wolves once roamed the countryside, thus suggesting the name wolf moon. In cold and temperate climates of the Northern Hemisphere, it was difficult to find food during January, thus the name hunger moon.

hunger moon
I put my pen down
and pick up my sword

Carpe Diem’s “Little Ones” #9, American Sentence (also 17 syllables)

A poetic form developed by Allen Ginsberg in the mid-1980′s as a response to the haiku.  If haiku involved seventeen syllables down the page, he reasoned, American Sentences would be seventeen syllables across the page–an attempt to more accurately “Americanize” a form that had previously translated only roughly across the Pacific into the context of American poetry.

Like (rough) English approximations of the haiku, American Sentences work closely with concision of line and sharpness of detail.  Unlike its literary predecessor, however, it is compressed into a single line of poetry and included a reference to a month and year (or alternatively, a location) rather than a season.


In the morning breeze over the meadows an Irish harp is plucked

Carpe Diem ~ Haru Ta (Spring Paddy)


patchwork of greens
sudden explosions and napalm
craters of brown

The United States unleashed a secret carpet bombing campaign on this country for nearly a decade, dropping 260 million cluster bombs – the most heavily bombed country in history, with more than 2.5 million tons of munitions during 580,000 bombing missions – equal to a planeload of bombs every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day, for 9 years  - more than all bombing by all belligerents in World War II, or 210 million more bombs than were dropped on Iraq in 1991, 1998 and 2006 combined.

Of 75 million bombs that failed to detonate, less than 1 percent have been cleared, and 25,000 people have been killed or injured by these bombs in the 35 years following the end of the bombing campaign. Today, an average of 300 people are injured or killed every year by these weapons, about half of them children, and most of the rest working men.

The economy is almost entirely agricultural (rice, in particular) yet one-third of the land remains littered with unexploded bombs.

Between 1996 and 2012, the U.S. contributed on average $2.6M per year to a general United Nations unexploded bomb clean-up program; the U.S. spent $17M per day for nine years bombing the country.

The U.S. spent as much in three days bombing of the country ($51M) as it spent for clean up over 16 years ($51M).

The country is Laos.

विकर कुर्सी में

And then it happened. She was gone. A micro hurricane of swirling dust and stinging eyes as the bus bounced and rattled to a near-stop then suddenly sped up again and hurtled away.

“Who were you?” I thought, only minutes after she’d left. “What do you do, in your foreign land?”

She had stayed the night, back pack and all, but I’d sat in the wicker chair as she rested her tired eyes.

Leaving, she had taken the mango and given me a peck on my cheek, her eyes gleaming with freshness and fun.


polishing shoes again
dreaming of another friendship
no matter how short-lived

One Drop

How far we have come. How far we have gone. Yet our life force still lies within the simple rain drop and in the fall it makes from the nourishing sky. It is when walking in nature that one notices, feels and sees the colourful effects of the life force in droplets.

Yet there are many who won’t walk out of the front door without umbrella, and hide from the rain. What a pity. I have seen farmers look up and smile into the rain, and seen bedouins of the desert take deep breaths and enjoy the new, fresh scent of cooling raindrops.

one drop of rain
at the end of a pine needle
on the tall pine tree

Ode To Traffic Wardens

I used to hate
traffic wardens
when I was a slave to society
but now I see them
for who they are
our holy warriors
slaying dragon cars
appearing just on time
to lay down a beautiful fine
their little sword a pen
but oh don’t be mistaken
its a mighty weapon
and their shield the simple note pad
which such style they wield

Yes! Oh yes!

…oh thee of tight uniforms ankles bare
our proud holy warriors
marching in your ranks
to my eye you bring a tear
the dobermans of an Orwellian animal farm
and part of our war against terroni
on behalf of nations and corporations
yes hail the heroes who set us free!
they are veritably our kindred kind
how I’d love to put my arms around your neck
advance fair until a car be found
or hope for a delivery truck
to which an orgasmic ticket written
feels better than a …Original Sin

Friday Fictioneers – Last Known Words of HMG Gurrumul, Lead Explorer of the Queen Bentafrou Antartic Expedition, date and year unverifiable

…Ladies and gentlemen who may read, I fear these may be my last known words, not for want of trying, but because one does want posterity to keep a kind eye cast and not a presumptuous giggle, and it is clear my colleagues and I are rapidly succumbing to the effects of unverifiable collective delirium.

I enclose the film for you to process if found, to see if indeed we have ‘lost it’ as they say. But we have walked by a mirage of a river and fauna in the Antarctic sun for hours and are too weak to continue. Surely the photo will show snow, no more-

Friday Fictioneers found here –  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ Thank you, Rochelle

Photograph by kind courtesy - http://erinlearywrites.com/

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai’s Revise That Haiku #4, Shiki’s ”a basket of grass”

The haiku by Shiku to revise and play with, in this excellent feature at http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.fi/

a basket of grass,
and no one there, -
mountains of spring

Following is my haiku, with a topical twist, from winter to spring

a basket of snow
nothing grows there
-spring makes it lighter