on this scarred landscape
cradling new life
pear tree in full bloom on a battlefield
collapsed house becomes beautiful again
© Masaoka Shiki (re-worked by Chèvrefeuille)
This is a second Carpe Diem Tan Renga challenge with a twist, in which we write a haiku to precede the lines of a featured poet, who in this case is Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902).
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt.
©️ Yamaguchi Seishi (1901-1994), Tr. Michael R. Burch
billows of steam scorch the sky
sea gulls screech in sharp dissent
Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge September 2018 (7)
One apple, alone
in the abandoned orchard
reddens for winter
Ⓒ Patrick Blanche (Tr. Michael R. Burch)
its tired stem grips tight
devoted to ripe perfection (my response)
This Carpe Diem Tan Renga challenge features a haiku by French poet, Patrick Blanche.
Autumn leaves scatter on the sidewalk a block from home
Back from a first day of school inhaling musty maple
Cool breeze, long sleeves, polished shoes and a flutter of news
Days of firsts dangling fresh books, a new teacher and friends
Etched in memory, each September of slanting light
Fuel for a spirit treading toward dark December nights.
Lillian at dVerse challenged us to write an ‘Alphabet Sestet’, a six-line poem using any consecutive series of alphabet letters to commence each line. I went with ABCDEF.
we play, gaze at clouds,
dream by waves rolling to shore.
We are anchors—you for me
I for you—and together we fly
Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #49
Inspired by Frank’s 50th Haikai Challenge, I explore some of my recent encounters with autumn winds. They herald the gradual shift from summer to fall:
a subtle coolness
whiffs of air through the window
autumn is moving in
the green tarp is gone
did a thief pass by today?
gusts of autumn wind
close to heatstroke
cleaning the shed at summer end
I catch a breeze
new winds are blowing
autumn into everything
porch chimes singing
sunken steps of stone,
history rustling in the trees,
nothing but worn footholds left,
when those who remember are gone
the universe sighs final breaths,
ripples of joy and sorrow.
This small poem emerged today from a haiku that I posted on September 18, 2017, almost one year ago:
sunken steps of stone
under ancient canopy
The idea to do this came from Amaya at dVerse who, for Tuesday Poetics: On a Loop, invites us to loop back to a past September 11 (or date nearby) to create a new poem from a piece of an old one.
Photo Credit: bonitavista.tumblr.com