Haibun

dVerse – Five Minutes

You know that moment.

You’re in Iceland. Its July. You’re flying to the States from Europe, stopping at Reykjavík, Iceland. Its snowing. You wander into the airport, and order a Polar Bear beer at the bar, and ask the beguilingly beautiful barmaid what she does in Iceland.

“I try to leave,” she says.

“I see,” you manage.

She smiles.

You glance at her, and see her eyes briefly sparkled in that smile.

Then you remember you are travelling, on a journey, and now is not the time for standing and smiling, for journeys and meetings are magical, and neither must slip from us due to our inattention, our indecision, or desire to stay rooted where we are and not take an undiscovered path to our dreams.

“What would make you leave?” you ask.

“Someone like you asking me to,” she answers.

You hesitate. Fatally, for a full five minutes. The moment starts to slide. She asks your name, and tells you hers. You look outside at the plane on the tarmac in the July snow.

“You got your toothbrush?” you smile, finding the right words at last.

“It will take me only a short time to get it!” she says. She has given keys to her colleague, and smiles one last time, and walks quickly to the car park.

Twelve years later she tells you she did come back, just five minutes after you had boarded again. In the half hour she is gone, with the air stewardess telling you for the third time you had to board, you begin to think she had realised what she was doing and changed her mind.

I boarded the plane, July snowflakes drifting about me as I climbed the steps, the air stewardess holding the door.

“I wrote this song for you,” she told me, twelve years later, when I sat in the front row.

a magic meeting
on a journey
her voice melts

 

 

 

 

 

 

Participate in a weekly haibun challenge! Click here – http://www.gunns-cabinfever.pw/l298go-ha298bun#.U4eVCHKSzaU

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Carpe Diem Haiku

Carpe Diem Haiku, Photographing

Ye gods, what a difficult prompt, that others will as usual take in their stride! I saw some beautiful haiku in yesterday’s prompt, here (Maniparna), here (Gillena) and here (Celestine). But also here (Ese) and many more…

‘Photographing’ seems tough. What clever imagery could we evoke? Striking the right balance in a haiku is difficult, and I think I’m going to find a vintage Japanese photograph to sprinkle with words.

geisha+hairstyle+portrait+2

photographing
a dream makes me
dream

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Verse

Magpie Tales: Graduation Day

Finland, 1968, photo by George F. Mobley

Finland, 1968, photo by George F. Mobley

before
they let the balloons go
colourful stories
filled
to flow
float
fly
almost endlessly
rip
on jagged branches
lie defeated
in the tumbling snow
blown
torn
on the jagged edges
of jagged stone

before
the balloons
were let loose
from the palms of our hands
from the psalms
of our defunct books
so much was left unsaid
on lips
already poisoned
by too much innocence
too numbed by cold

and anyway
with nothing
nothing to say
before we passed
the real tests
and regressed
moved to our caves
let our balloons take our stories
far from us
in sunset skies
and jagged branches
where even the snow had dried
and we wonder
if we ever really tried?

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Carpe Diem Haiku

Carpe Diem Haibun – Beach

Beaches don’t come much colder than Aberdeen beach, in the northwest of Scotland. But before people bustled onto planes to get drunk abroad, Aberdeen beach was a popular holiday destinations for hardy Aberdonians. They don’t make folk like that anymore. Nowadays, of course, none venture in such cold waters when their are holidays further south to be had.

Advances in technology have brought a fair amount of improvements to our lives, but for every action there is a reaction. Isn’t that the first law of Physics?

Our food is worse now, not better. Our health and fitness worse. The food is less nutritious, and there is much less variety of it, a little known fact. There are many less varieties of apples around than there used to be 50, or a 100 years ago, for example, as industrial production seeks the cheapest to produce, the farthest away. One day we will learn more by looking back, except that many of these varieties have disappeared, forever. In fact there are storage centres desperately being arranged and built in an effort to preserve seeds of disappearing varieties of foodstock. It is that bad.

Our ancestors never got to see and experience what we do, but not everything they believed and lived by was wrong. Our social fabric is torn. Today we have what has become the propagandist aggressive negativity of Feminism, for example, while before we had gentlemen, and decency towards women. Even, maybe, in Aberdeen!

Scottish Comedian Billy Connolly gives an account of Aberdeen beach in his particular style which gives a fair idea of Aberdeen beach – start at 4.40 mins for his account of swimming in Aberdeen.

And the emptiness of Aberdeen beach today…

88beach_1

loneliness by the sea
what is found over horizons
is found here too

each step in sand
as if never there
but a continent conquered

desert oasis
aroma of water
but only sand

her hands tell a story
we travelled miles to see
while her belly shimmers

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Flash Fiction

Friday Fictioneers: The Night Before The Morning That Will Not Be

image rochelle wisoff-fields

image rochelle wisoff-fields

In order to justify them killing you, you invent the crime. “I deserve to die,” you say to yourself. It doesn’t pay to get too religious on these occasions  —  the next thing you’ll be doing is repenting.

In our cells waiting to be shot we are a club with the same aim: to get out alive. Personally, I think of childhood. Maybe I should have played with dolls. Instead bullets will be my last medals.

If anyone finds this note; “I died a man.” That is, I fought till the end, and ran, blindfolded, hands tied behind my back, in my last faltering steps of freedom.

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friday fictioneers 100 Word stories ¤ run so well by ms rochelle wisoff-fields

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Haibun

Ligo Haibun Challenge – Image Week

Thanks to everyone participating in the Ligo Haibun Challenge – if you would like you can post your haibun at Medium here, and label it under the “Beautiful Haibun” collection. This gives you further readership and gives you a step out of the ‘WordPress world.’

My apologies for the lateness of the post this week. I was a bit exhausted after travel and duties, and have a lot of catching up to do. There are a lot of fine people out there and I don’t want to lose them…so I will be catchng up, especially as I want the Ligo anthology out soon – so send your haibun!

I will be contacting folks very shortly about their haibun – that probably means you reading this!

This week is picture week. As usual choose one to write your Beautiful Haibun. I certainly encourage all glancing here to have a read of the haibun, which are of very high quality in an art form that in itself encourages beautiful writing.

If you are new to the form ask here for details..

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Please give us some beautiful haibun! Link up with the blue critter below..

http://goo.gl/KAbZf4

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Haibun

Ligo Haibun Challenge – Word Prompt

…Here’s 3 haibun we particularly liked from last week  and are mentioning here:

After two hours yesterday and nearly an hour today, I still cannot and will not nominate one over the other. The haibun are all so good for both very similar and different reasons.

See what I mean….

The prompts for this week are continued

 

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Carpe Diem Haiku

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai – Given First Line

The goal of this feature is to write an all new haiku which starts with the given first line.

.This week’s haiku has to start with the following first line:

a shooting star

 ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

a shooting star
-don’t go
gone

 ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

 

¤ ¤ ¤

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Magpie Tales – The Letter

once

there was a world
where a simple hello

meant a pen
ink

the right paper
the right scratching…

View Post

Opinion
Image
Verse

2-1=0

when I turned around
she’d left town
Forgetting to collect her last words
from my mind

her polish still in the bathroom
where she did her toes
and her watch on the chair
still yelling me the time

and open doors of rooms
permanently closed to emotion
no dishes in the kitchen sink
phones that make no calls

a shower permanently dry
trees sweeping their own leaves outside
pavements bare, sterile and cold
streets that go nowhere under rain that won’t fall

and the drip on the faucet that demands to be fixed
as if I have the time now I’m alone
and anyway it’s not my fault
she should have turned it tight before she left home

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Challenges

Ligo Haibun Challenge – Quote Prompt Week

Winter on one side, summer on the other, we drift into December. There were some beautiful haibun last week, making the choice of Honourable Mentions absurdly difficult again. Thank you again, wonderful contributors.

This week is quote week again. Please choose one as always continued…

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Verse

dVerse – Where Is She Now?

Where is she now?
The girl whose picture I found
Posing just after the last snows
Fresh, in her Yakutian meadow

What were her dreams, back then?
Among the flowers that only bloom in Spring
When she posed so long ago
The dark nights so short, the days so slow

Did she spend each spring in her field?
And did her memories leave with the end of summer?
I hope she slipped out of her heels
To walk barefoot in the grass, among scented heather

Did she pluck one wild flower to take home and press?
The girl from Yakutia whose photo I found
In the antique chest I bought last night
From the silver-haired woman, whose eyes shone so bright

 

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Verse

At Rat’s Creek

the sailing boats have sunk
down at rat’s creek where a summer
was not complete without
at least one great big furry rat bite

where knees were meant to be skinned
and where Josie taught me
how to have sinned
down where the water rose each spring

where summer we dared each other
to swim the length of the pond bared
to the midday sun
nothing on except water

and where in those Autumn days
the sun sent its last golden rays
and one by one the boats clogged with leaves
till there was only my one boat left sinking 

so I grew up too
loved and lost and left town
and rat’s creek is now frozen 
every time I’m there in the snow

all the sailing boats have sunk forever
Josephine’s doesn’t even recognise me anymore
glass in her hand when she answers the door
the boats are all sunk – and  there’ll never be anymore summers


written for the wonderful http://dversepoets.com/ page – (topic Childhood Toys & Games), a truly beautiful bi-weekly challenge. My apologies for not getting the reading done I want. But I will.

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My Forest & I

As the September sun slips away, farmers collect their hay, writers must collect their thoughts for their winter’s crop..

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Opinion

Ten ‘Things’ We Could Not Do Without

10- Blues. What was the world like before the invention of Blues? Impossible to conceive. BB King, Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, Eric Clapton, Luther Allison, Taj Mahal, and so many more. You cannot breathe without blues man, how did they before?

9- Tea. In tea friendship, the Japanese saying goes, To say the least. What can’t you say about tea? There is everything in a cup of tea, best drunk in a papercup, or from a flask, or a glass, among friends, lovers, alone, in the morning, afternoon or at midnight. If the world stopped to have a cup of tea,…

8- Tango. The definition of sensuality. You do not use words to describe the tango. Everything is in the accordian and high heels. And inner thigh.

7- French. There is not a more evocative, beautiful language. Period. Granted, it is just a slang of Latin, but no French woman has ever paid for a copper bracelet in my shop, just saying, “bonjour!” guarantees it is free… The language is style itself. When I speak French my voice is in a different octave, and everything is more relaxed.

6- Politeness. The absence of politeness is like the absence of fresh air, or sunrise. When travelling to countries where people are very polite like Iran, where politeness is the culture, it is a sheer delight. Afterwards one misses it like a life without tea or blues.

5- Deserts. Like the tango. Words cannot describe a desert. Imagine an environment that changes a little bit everyday as sand dunes reveal new curves and lines , always warm, where you can sleep outside every night in a perfectly and naturally-cushioned bed, without any mosquitoes or flies. Sheer luxury. Desertification is much underrated..

4- Rain. Rain in the desert is like diamonds. But rain anywhere is beautiful. Rain separates parasites from those who want to enjoy life deeply. I have heard those who curse rain but expect beautifully orange carrots from their supermarket. The whole Bollywood film industry survives on that dance in the rain; rightly so. No-one should own an umbrella. Especially not the queen.

3- Fish n Chips. The royalty of food. None better. Served with tea. Tetleys. Malt vinegar a must. Big chips. You simply have not eaten if you have not had a decent fish supper. Better than any food in France, except a meal shared with my new French neighbour who recently got locked out of her flat, but that is a whole other delicious story.

2- Immigration. Imagine a country with only rednecks. With boiled or deeply-fried pork and overcooked potatoes, wishy washy music without soul, and racism as humour. No spice, zest or colour. Blond hair and blue eyes ruling, and nice high alcohol abuse.. Immigration has been the one overriding success of the modern era. I hate whiter than white countries, with suspiciously pure thoughts. The pilgrims were intolerant, ignorant people who would have all died off without native Indian help, There are those among us that revere religions from the Middle East , yet act as if the people from that area of the world are in some way inferior to “us”. Weird. Most don’t even know where the Middle East is: rednecks.

1- Trekking. There are still people who still drive their cars two blocks to drive cigarettes. Unbelievable. And that people still smoke is actually funny. Talk about sheep controlled by the corporate world. The tobacco stuffed into cigarettes bears little to no relation to the much milder tobacco smoked in the peace pipes my friends, it has been engineered to be much stronger, much more addictive with higher levels of tar, even the lite brands, which is compensated anyway with more chemicals. So buy a pair of canvas slippers and walk in a desert instead. Walk, for days, sleep at nights, through the desert sands. Glorious.

And now, just because…

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Flash Fiction

Friday Fictioneers – When She Danced…

copyright-renee-heath

When it rained, she was a mess. Mascara rolling down her face, like tears of soot from her papa’s past, her tutu looking like overused fishing nets; grey, patched, hanging down awkwardly, and her slippers, too, discoloured, muddy, seemingly irreparable. As she danced under the downpour on those occasions she wore an expression of defeated stoicism, and those who did not make a detour watched from the corner of their eyes, hoping, wishing for her sake she’d stop, and go home.

But when the sun shone, she pirouetted, twirled and laughed, remembering papa’s words! “You’ll be a wonderful dancer, my  cherry blossom, one day!” He’d sighed, so many times.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

for Friday Fictioneers  100 Word Fiction- admirably run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields <> photo by Renee Heath

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Verse

Sometimes

sometimes

only, maybe, every

second second

I think of how

she

u   s   e   d   t   o   p   l   a   y   t   h   e   p   i   a   n   o

nude

w

                  i

t

                                 h

o

        n

e

                    f

i

                                                       n

g

                                    e

r,

                                                   n

o

                                   t

e

by

n

                                                                    o

                                                                t

                                                                                  e           

as the sun

        os

r                                   e

she                             looked

beautiful.

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