Like the Moon I Rise — a Friday Flashback

Super Moon over Bryce Canyon Utah

For Fandango’s flashback friday. This was originally written for dVerse Poetics on March 25, 2020 at the beginning of lockdowns and other inanities that have become part of our global “new normal.” The prompt was to contemplate what we have gained through personal (or global) crisis. What I gained from this most recent global crisis was the steadfast realization that I am far stronger than I ever realized.

Like the Moon I Rise

Like the moon, I rise
from the darkness
to brighten the very sky
like the moon, I rise

Like the Phoenix, I rise
from fire and ash
I spread my wings and fly
like the Phoenix, I rise

Sorrow cannot keep me down
when in pools of darkness
I fear to drown
like the sun, I rise

every day, warm or cold
every night brings good-bye
but, every morning,
like the sun I rise

Til next time ~Peace …, just peace ~JP

Through the Gates – a Crimson Creative Challenge

For Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Inside the Torri Gates at Fushimi Inari Shrine Kyoto Japan

Through the Gates

Pass through the arches
and find the light
walk through the Toriis
and then to the right
to the garden’s path
so warm and bright
where we’ll sit and talk
and in the day delight

Til next time ~Where there is kindness, there is magic ~JP

Flashback Friday — A Spiky Situation

A thorn bush in Pahrump, NV

For Fandango’s Flashback Friday — a little trip down memory lane. The idea is to repost something you wrote on this date, a previous year. It is really interesting to see how my writing has changed in the past few years. Now, I don’t always post daily so there were years when this date passed with out blog note. This is a little piece from March 11, 2019. Today also happens to be my “anniversary” of sorts. On March 11, 2007 we pulled our RV out of the driveway and became gypsies and wanderers. For your further elucidation

My first ever quadrille for dversepoets Quadrille #75: Spike up a Poem

A Spiky Situation

Tender stalks protected
by thorns like iron spikes
ready to impale
the unwary traveler who
drawn to the allure
of bright blossoms
pricks a finger

We curse the flower
for it’s thorns
rather than rejoice
that the thorn bush
gives us such ardent blooms

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

The Cold Mountain – a dVerse Haibun

Frank is our host for dVerse haibun this week and has asked us for some “Cold Mountain” poetry. *shiver* makes me cold just to think about it.

Today, write you haibun on either one of the following options:

  1. A Cold Mountain: the towering heights, frigid temperatures, majestic views, or existential challenges of a mountain. You could even go metaphorical, describing the cold mountain of overwhelming circumstances, or how we make mountains out of mole hills.
  2. The Cold Mountain: a haibun that follows the influence of Hanshan (Cold Mountain), with his immediacy, concern for humanity, and deep devotion to nature.

Cold Mountain

Snow glows white in the harsh sunlight today, scorching the eyes. A misstep along the trail and I sink to my knees. Overhead a pine grosbeak twitters as I struggle to pull my frozen toes from the icy depth of the snow. Is he laughing at me I wonder. I reach the door and stamp the powder from my boots.

Inside, I carefully stoke the fire, holding my hands toward the hungry flames. But not too close. I suspend the kettle from it’s hook and go to fetch the tea. Hot liquid slides down my throat thawing my frozen belly.

A frigid moon has replaced the sun now. At this elevation cold is prevalent, harsh and sometimes deadly. But the mountain beckons the weary traveler. Weary of all that lies below, the noise, the dank air, and the humans who trod so thoughtlessly upon the earth.

Pine Siskins call out

the wind howls in frustration

come spring, come spring, come

Til next time ~Keep warm ~JP

Friday Flashbacks — After Awhile

A rose blooms in Westfir, Oregon

Have you ever had one of those poems that just stuck in your head for like decades. It made so much sense that you quoted it all the time. But, you couldn’t actually remember the whole thing, or who wrote it, but it didn’t matter it just kept floating around in your brain with all the answers to the unanswerable questions. This is a poem I remember from my younger days. I finally looked it up and recalled the author. In case anybody needs this.

After a While

After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t always promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers
And you learn that you really can endure,
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every good-bye you learn.

Author Veronica Shoffstall

Til next time ~Stay trippy hippies ~JP

Our Choices – a dVerse Poetics

Lillian has provided us an interesting challenge for dVerse Poetics, to write a poem inspired by a given adage.

For today’s prompt, I’d like you to consider one of the adages/proverbs listed below as inspiration for your poem. You don’t have to include the line itself….but we should be able to guess pretty easily, which line you used as a jumping off point to create your poem. Do give the line and its source at the end of your poem, and of course, mention the poem is written for dVerse.

So do pop on over and take a look, see if you can guess which adage I chose for this.

Our Choices

A box of chocolates on the table
tempting me to come and taste
just a tiny, bitty, bite
surely won’t enlarge my waist
Like my life, each one is filled
with choices bitter and sweet
you never know until you try
what fate you will meet
A left when I should have turned right
lead me to a long and winding path
showed me life through a different sight
and that has made all the difference
A left or a right, choices near and far
our choices show who we really are
my heart flutters my mind is set
take the plunge, see what I get

Till next time ~Stay Happy Hippies ~JP

Flashback Friday – Drowning in the City

Osaka Skyline

This is a reworking of a magnetic poetry piece I played around with back in 2019 magnetic poetry is a real hoot, give it a shot here.

Drowning in the City

The concrete is poison
devourer of forests
torturer of my soul
as oceans of poetry
fade from my eye
blaring sounds hide
nature’s heartbeat
lights of cities
drown out the sky

And yet, I recall
caramel colored flames
as fire danced
in fevered rhythms
and angels awoke
with sacred song
memory of the moment
the fire smiled
haunts me still

Til next time ~Stay Wild Moonchild ~ JP

Oh So Many Faces – a dVerse Poetics kō

We have this week a rather complex assignment from Lisa at dVerse to create our own microseason. In honor of the Year of the Tiger, I’ll give it a lash, although I think my offering rather more resembles prose than anything else.

Embracing Naye final new moon of the season of the Crone

Rain on the lake as it begins to thaw as ducks paddle furiously while they can. Raindrops suspended at the tip of branches, not quite heavy enough to fall. By morning all will be frozen once again as the season of the Crone, the season of rest and restoration, enters Naye, the last new moon of her reign. The air vacillates between damp warmth and freezing cold.

Sturdy winter greens and root vegetables simmer happily in my ever-present soup pot, the scent heady with warm spice. All too soon the cold will fade, warming soups will be replaced by tender salads. Dried flowers on my mantle will give way to spring bulbs and afternoons spent curled up near the fire will be supplanted by the need to plan gardens.

But for now, the Crone still lingers while the Maiden rests. For this final new moon Naye holds the position and whispers to Spring “not yet, not yet.”

rain melts away ice

crone holds back the maiden’s warmth

raindrops freeze glisten

Til next time ~Cold never bothered me anyway ~JP