windows and doors ... haiku for One Deep Breath

Ginger Cat Dreaming

This week's prompt on One Deep Breath was to write haiku using images of windows and/or doors. Here is my contribution. For more go to One Deep Breath.

stormy day
rain spatters leaf strewn path
windows rattle

smell of baking bread
gust of wind blows
the door ajar

ginger cat dreams
sparrows feeding just beyond
the window pane

outside
the river flows without end
inside I cannot hear it

jzr

Instructions ... for Sunday Scribblings

Doll, Polaroid Transfer, © 2000

The Studio clean up is well under way and is feeling so good, I had time to get inspired by Sunday Scribblings' prompt , simply called .... Instructions! See more takes on the prompt here!

Instructions

I’m sick and tired of ....

Release it!

Yes, but I ....

Let it go!

But who will ....?

It doesn’t matter!

Well, somebody has to ....

Release it!

I can’t!

Then live with the consequences!

But, you see if I don’t, then ....

I can’t hear you!

Yes, you can! You just responded!

I can’t see you!

Well, what if I ....?

See ya!

Where did you go?

jzr

Daybreak ... for Poetry Thursday

This week's Poetry Thursday prompt is to go deep inside to see what's going on in there ... to write from our authentic self. This is not hard to do for me right now, as I have the poem below, written a number of years ago that fits as well today as it did when I wrote it.

I'm feeling crunched for time. I have too many things on my plate, all of which I delight in ... but there just aren't enough hours in the day to do them all. As if I needed another something on my to-do list, I signed up and am taking a 4 part pattern alteration class which meets once a week. I used to sew most of my own clothes and when my kids were little, all of their clothes. I've lately had the urge to do a bit of sewing again and that's how I've found myself in this predicament. The class is exciting ... this week I learned how to make the perfect pants pattern ... just for me ... and the fabrics available are more beautiful than ever.

Of course if I could get my studio organized I'd save myself lots of time. I think for now, I'm going to cut back on my blogging a bit to a couple of times a week, until I get my studio in order so that when I'm ready to work on a project, it's easy to access the space and the tools. I will naturally continue with One Deep Breath and Poetry Thursday.

Time managent is not a strength of mine. It's a nightmare ... like this poem!


Daybreak

A tranquil pool reflects
as only water can
the confection of moon
star lanterns
show the way down
to the mouth of a cave

A tattered moth
hands me her flame
tells me to wait
just inside at the edge
for a ferry to deliver me
to the middle of the night

Aboard the vessel
the oarsman leers
with eyes that glow
in burning sockets
his mouth overflowing
knots of squirming eels
I hold the flame close
easing my fear
a solitary owl hoots
at the sight of land

I am lifted to shore
by rigid talons
left on the sand
where a porcelain clock
elephant high
stands guard
naming the hours
as they race around
an eroding track

The clock strikes twelve
spills sleeping cuckoos
severed hands
left without time
frantic numerals gather momentum
lifting the flame to possibility
I ignite the ticking sky

jzr

Autumn Haiku ... for One Deep Breath

Migrating Monarch stops to sip nectar on Autumn Joy Sedum

Saturday will be the first day of autumn. Days are already shorter and my energy and attention span are waning. I have the urge to go to bed when it gets dark and not get up until the sun is well up in the morning. For me it's a sleepy time, curling up with a good book time, steaming hot cider or tea time, a walk in the crunchy woods time.

Here are a few haiku to set the scene. For more, go to One Deep Breath.

leaves drop
scratch the window pane
wind from the north

tea grows cold
book open on the bed
afternoon nap

goldenrod
turns the field bright yellow
the moon is full

cool night air
trace of frost on grass
toad sleeps well

from the chimney
smells of oak and poplar
fox hunts nesting mice

feather quilt
pulled over my head
bear hibernates

jzr

my name is sally ... for Poetry Thursday

"coins in my cup"

This week's prompt for Poetry Thursday is to write as if you are someone other than yourself. Besides mrs heartwell, I've gotten to know a woman I call crazy sally. I've written about her but never in her voice. So, I thought I'd give it a try ... this is what I got.


my name is sally

i’m sixty-three
found two dollars
in change not enough
for coffee a sandwich
tuna on rye
lettuce a slice of tomato
i’ll wait
a few crusts here
and there collect
coins in my cup
watch for the cop
no loitering
sleeping
in doorways
on grates
it’s winter
i’m tired
almost out
of aspirin my knees
the pain so sharp
it’s hard to move
fast when
big john
comes
he scares me
yells and shouts
tries to grab
my hair
when he’s
drunk
i lost my comb
the other day
when i fell
in the street
cars kept coming
no one stopped
it’s cold
i need
a place
in the sun
no wind
tonight
it could
snow

jzr
9/13/06

Tanka ... for One Deep Breath

December Cold, 2005

I'm not exactly sure that this is Tanka, but judging from some of the examples that the gals at One Deep Breath provided, it well might be. It does fits the "emotional" style of such poems, but the rhythm is its own. For more Tanka and links to Tanka sights go to One Deep Breath.

somber memories
eyes filled with tears
i lift my umbrella
heavenward
wind blows in bursts

a plain pine box
the coffin
your son made
as his soul raged
hammer striking nails

remember your joy
finding me
when i was lost
in a snow storm
hands blue with cold

i am the daughter
warmed by your love
he the forgotten one
who bruised your ego
breaking his heart

in december cold
rain turns to snow
wishing you safe journey
he stands in shadows
your steel heart just now still


9/10/06
jzr

Remembering

Ground Zero Today, Sunday New York Times Magazine, September 10, 2006

I wrote the following poem several months after the event that changed all of us forever.


We’re All Born Naked
thoughts after 9/11

People are the issue
crudely beautiful
we temper intelligence
with obsession and fear

Build dreams on recycled
foundations aspire to bold heights
transformative possibilities
variations on ancient creeds

The poetry of patterning
woven in caustic silence
the resonance of thunder
the force of wind

We cling to the planet
standard earthly forms
playing eccentric roles
the face of violence
concealed within our genes

jzr

Homecoming ... For Poetry Thursday

Tree Peony, Joan Z. Rough © 2005

A while ago Poetry Thursday put out a prompt for a poem about ... ahem ... sex! I started one for that prompt but as everyone knows one cannot often just write a poem in a few days about such an important subject. So, I let it sit and went back to it now and then, not realizing it really was finished. I took it to my poetry group the last time we met and they put their seal of approval on it. So here it is. It is another "mrs heartwell" poem and I hope you all enjoy it!!


homecoming

mrs heartwell dons a negligee
sheer and flowing
for mr heartwells’s homecoming
he’s been gone for days
visiting the city
where neon lights
paint evening clouds
brilliant stars dribble
balls across a court
to thundering applause

she lights candles
plugs in dreamy voices
mathis sinatra
nat king cole
imagines his arms
around her melting
the chocolate she offers
tucked between her breasts
his hands exploring her body
searching for more

breathlessly she awaits
his arrival
a car approaching slowly
footfall on slate
the neighbor’s howling dogs

the evening throbs
shrill cicadas lightning flashes
rain on the roof
gurgles through gutters

JZR

Happy New Year!!! It's September!!

The sweater I've been knitting for years!

Unlike most people, September is the month in which I celebrate the New Year! It goes back to when I was in elementary school and the first day of school arrived.

I always wore a new dress and new shoes. I remember my saddle shoes and the first pair of patent leather Mary Jane's I ever had ... but those were saved for Sundays. I remember my dresses as well. I loved gingham and big collars. I also loved school, my friends and being out from under my parent's prying eyes! We'd have field days, when we got to spend all day outside playing games, competing in sack races and just having fun. I remember the smell of the school and the cafeteria with it's trays of "interesting" foods. My favorites were Jello, canned corn and chocolate milk.

I loved selecting notebooks, pencils, pencil boxes, erasers. It was the important business of getting ready for that big first day of school! I still find it exciting to pick out new journals at this time of year and very special pens for filling their pages.

January, though the traditional time to celebrate the turning of the year, is usually dark and somber. There is just not enough excitement for me. At the ripe old age of sixty-something, I still celebrate and rejoice in September. Here is poem I offer to you.

September

That yellow bus is back
all shiny and clean
beeping 'round the circle
every morning at eight
then again in afternoon
Monday through Friday

I recall chalk dust days
blue gingham stained with chocolate
climbing trees and jump rope
books whispering dreams

Hours slip away
dropped stitches
in a Christmas sweater
I've been knitting for years
return to every fall
rows of raveled days
purled again to perfection

JZR

Happy New Year Everyone!!

Solitude ... For One Deep Breath

Lotus, Joan Z. Rough, © 2006


Alone with myself
I open my heart to sun
A happy flower

Sitting in silence
I hear the wind moving sand
A happy stone

In the dark of night
I hear lonely hearts crying
I send them prayers

JZR


For more haiku go to One Deep Breath.

I'm Back!

Resting Swans in Stratford, Ontario

We're back from a lovely vacation in Toronto and Stratford, Ontario. It's been a long summer and this was the first real opportunity I've had to unwind. We saw two shows in Stratford ... an excellent production of Ibsen's, Ghosts, and a so-so version of Shakespeare's, Twelfth Night. We wandered the banks of the Avon and sat in the gorgeous garden at our B&B just enjoying the cool air. In Toronto, we took a city tour, visiting fascinating ethnic neighborhoods. Everyone is so friendly and I loved the international flavor of it all. We ate really well, too! Toronto is a really great place for "foodies!"

As I get older, I'm finding that vacations aren't all about packing in the sights and being constantly on the go. Now it's more about really resting, like these swans ... if I don't see it all it's okay ... I just want to relax ... let the mind and body off the hook and enjoy every sweet moment. So we read, talked, day dreamed and had time to just be.

Overachiever that I am, I'd set myself a task before I left to record a moment every day with a photo and a haiku. Well, it didn't happen and I'm just as happy. Why must I always be "doing?"

The following are simply a few snapshots of things that caught my eye ...

Artist's Garden, Toronto

Mechanical Billboard, Toronto

Tourists At The Rogers Center, Toronto

Toronto Skyline

I'm happy to say that here at home, Tropical Storm Ernesto blessed us with 6 1/2 inches of rain while we were gone! The river is almost full again and everything is once again green. We're still not out of the woods but it sure does help!!

Drought 2006

The meadow and river, June, 2006

The dock, June 2006

The above photos are what we looked like in June. On this acreage in Albemarle County we had unmeasurable rain in March ... 2 3/8" of rain in April ... 1 1/2" in May ... 7 1/4" in June. That's why we were looking really good in June.

The photos below show you what it looks like today. In July, I measured 1 1/2" of rain and so far for August, I've measured only 1/8" of rain. There is a 30% chance of thunder storms on Monday and Tuesday of next week. And then it will be September. According to local records we have a precipitation deficit of over 11 inches for the year. I would say it's worse right here.

The meadow and river, August 26, 2006

The dock, August 26, 2006

From our living room window we estimate that the river level has fallen about 1 foot this week alone. Given that this is a reservoir for the City of Charlottesville, it will continue to drop as citizens continue to water their lawns, fill their pools and deny that there is a problem.

According to the Rivanna Water and Sewer Authority, water usage has spiked recently to an average of 13.5 million gallons of water per day, with a record of 14.1 million gallons this past Wednesday. They would like to see usage drop to 12.5 million gallons per day.

That we are only under voluntary water restrictions is disturbing. Mandatory water restrictions should have been put into effect several weeks ago. It seems that our local government is as slow on the uptake as the feds, who for all intents and purposes denied the possible destruction of New Orleans by hurricanes for years. They were forewarned and did nothing. In doing so they have given us a pretty clear picture of how this country operates.

We have acres and acres of upscale developments in this county where inground water irrigation systems automatically water lawns every evening ... even if it is raining. The county appoved a new development of 900 homes recently just up the road from here. More are on the way. It seems to me that before more new homes are built inviting the growth our officials seem to believe is necessary, we should be making sure that we will have enough water to go around.

The so called solutions to our water problems that have been approved by area officials by enlarging the Ragged Mountain Reservoir and piping water over to the Rivanna are years away. The proof of how much it will help is beyond that. Who knows what the number of households in the area will be by then? Who knows if these drought conditions will continue until then? Will there be enough money to make the changes that have been approved?

With Global Warming and the predictions of major climate change, it is time for all of us to start thinking outside of the same old box we've been living in. It is time to open our eyes, to start listening and to take actions that are different from those we've taken before.

Once the water runs out we won't have any to water our lawns or even our house plants. Isn't it time to act now ... BEFORE WE RUN OUT?

Time Play: Act Three ... for Poetry Thursday

Time, Joan Z. Rough, © 2006

Time has never been my best friend. There is never enough or there is too much. I look for quality time, end up with no time. At times I've been able to stretch time, but that skill is elusive. It's either rush, rush, rush or ... are we there yet?? I waste time, I buy time ... I even kill time. It's a mystery ... I've written a notebook full of poems about it. Here is one for Poetry Thursday's prompt on time. I don't know any more about it now than I did before I took the time for this exploration.


Time Play: Act Three

Instead of rising the curtain falls
on a revolving stage numerals tick
tossing seconds back and forth
the orchestra marks each hour
with silver chimes

In the flyspace heavenly doors
swing open spilling light
revealing angels robed in red
feathered wings propel
cogged wheels around the clock

Beyond the flicker of footlights
tiers of aging faces line the dark
fear the cuckoo's wooden call
a chorus of fingers points to the dial
weeping candles hail the fractured moon

jzr

The Sound Of Music ... for One Deep Breath

3 year old Noah at the piano, August 2006

We recently brought our keyboard/piano to North Carolina to let our grandchildren enjoy the making of music. It's been an instant hit. While Zoe is ready to take some lessons, Noah, a lover of music and movement just wants to bang away. The following haiku are about the music he creates!

Noah practices
rocks his body nods his head
music fills his heart

fast slow loud then soft
little fingers poke the keys
a summer storm of thunder



Read more haiku and join in yourself at One Deep Breath.

The Inner Life Of Pets, A Play In 3 Acts .... for Sunday Scribblings

The Inner Life Of Pets, a play in 3 acts
for Sunday Scribblings

The Characters: Peppermint, also known as Pepper, an orange tiger cat. Approx. 2 yrs. old.
Liliput, also known as Lily, a black and white tuxedo cat, approx. 1 yr. old.

Act #1: the kitchen
7 o'clock in the morning

Pepper: Gosh, this stuff is good. Must be tuna. It's kind of fishy.

Lily: It's okay, I prefer the turkey stuff. But this is better than nothing, which is what I had for dinner last night.

Pepper: Well, that's what you get for being fussy! If you don't eat what's put in front of you, you get hungry!

Lily: Yeah? Who Says?? I could'a gone out and caught a vole ... or some crickets, but she wouldn't let me out. Said it was getting too dark. She keeps trying to scare me by saying that there is a huge owl out there that might think I'd make a good snack!!

Pepper: Well, you never know .... In my first home, my friend, Bonnie, almost got caught by a big hawk!!

Lily: Oh, get over it!! I'm too tough and I'm not afraid of anything ... even those big things that come in the driveway and honk at me when I won't move out of the way. Whatever they are, they have some nerve!

Pepper: I'm full, let's go watch birds!

Act #2: The Kitchen Window, later in the morning

Lily: Will you look at that fat squirrel?!? He'd make a great dinner!!

Pepper: Yeah, but look at that gorgeous bright red cardinal! Have you tried one? I've never had one. I wonder if they taste like sparrow.

Lily: Nah, I've never had one. I do know that sparrow and chickadee are pretty close in flavor. I think sparrow can be a bit tough, though. They eat anything, ya know! Chickadees only eat black oil sunflower seeds. Makes 'em a bit more tender.

Pepper: Yeah, and blue jays are the worst! Their meat is very stringy! Oh, I see what you mean about that squirrel! I've never caught one. They are too big to fool with. And they don't seem to be afraid of cats. I thought one was going to chase me the other day!! Ooh, I'm getting sleepy.

Act #3: The Master Bedroom, early afternoon

Pepper: She's doing that thing again!! Why is she always doing that?? I hate that bright light that flashes in my face!

Lily: She's taking pictures, silly. She thinks we're cute ... likes to brag about us ... how smart we are!

Pepper: Oh, well we are pretty special, ya know. Why else would she have brought us here.

Lily: Hush up and go to sleep. I've got a date tonight with a mouse. I need my beauty rest! My claws grow best when I get plenty of rest!!

The End

(don't forget to clap your hands!!)

A Day In The Life .... for Poetry Thursday

Garden, Arbor House, Black Mountain, NC

a day in the life

mrs heartwell gathers
flowers from her garden
irises her daughter's namesake
in lavender and peach
purpleblue lilacs
the scent of spring
white roses
just beginning to unfold

she pulls a weed here
and there straightens
staked peonies
overflowing their space
like the river
when rain comes
in torrents spreading over
the edge of the meadow

in the kitchen she shapes
dough that rose
in early morning light
for crunchy loaves
mr hearwell likes to dip
in mushroom soup
rich gravy from pot roast
or slathered with butter
sweet raspberry jam

at one o'clock mrs heartwell
watches dramas on tv
that some call soaps
she doesn't understand why
wants to know if eva
will ditch adam why george
and gloria can't have kids
it sounds familiar
like she's heard it all before
but can't remember where

it could be on the phone
when she spoke with
widow greeves just yesterday
her neighbor so involved
in everyone's business
but her own
loves to spread stories
about cheating and guilt
even the heartwells
aren't spared
their catastrophic spats
described up and down the block

jzr

Home From Black Mountain, North Carolina

This is the view from our room at Arbor House, in Black Mountain, where we stay when we visit our daughter and her family. Lake Tomahawk has a lovely path around its perimeter and lots of ducks, geese and other birds to watch. A little green heron perched in the top of the tree in the foreground on the morning we left, preening and fluffing his feathers.

On Thursday evening, Lisa, Zoe and I sat down on their porch swing which immediately fell. Unfortunately, my left leg was caught underneath it and my entire calf is swollen and flaunts gorgeous shades of red, blue, purple and yellow. I head off to my doctor this morning just to make sure it's the simple bruise I think it is. I'm walking fine and there is little pain, so I consider myself very lucky. It could have been much worse. Thankfully, Lisa and Zoe suffered no scrapes or injuries from this event.

I spent most of Friday and Saturday on the couch with my leg elevated, icing it from time to time, preferring not to get down on the floor with the kids who love to hug and tug and wrestle. We all sang songs, especially Noah's favorite "Me num e num," while he banged away on the piano keys and Lisa's guitar. Fortunately, the piano wasn't plugged in but that didn't stop our little guy from thinking he was providing the background music for us! I do believe he will be an entertainer of some sort when he grows up. He loves to dance and sing and has VERY DRAMATIC temper tantrums!!

Zoe seemed quite disappointed that I didn't have more enery and so I told her that I was really sorry that I had hurt my leg and couldn't play the way I usually do. I told her that I wished it could get better so that we could have some fun. She disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a lovely amber "wishing stone," for both of us to us wish upon. She also placed her hands on my leg to send healing energy and gave it a kiss as well!!

Gosh, I love my grandkids!!
And miss them, too!!

Twilight ... For Poetry Thursday

My Front Doorstep At Dusk

I'm off for a visit to the land of daughters and grandchildren in North Carolina, but before I depart I just want to leave you with a poem for Poetry Thursday, whose prompt I am not following this week. There are also other poems scattered through this weeks posts.

This is another mrs heartwell poem. I posted this one several weeks ago and it was quite popular, so I thought it was time for another. This one isn't funny, but gives an idea of her vulnerability and the melancholia she often experiences. I think that's what menopause and times of female depression were once called ... this is not what this is, but is more a time of needing to pull back and contemplate where one has been.

Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. I'll be back on Monday!


twilight

discarding her halo
the fixed blue shroud
enclosing her dreams
mrs heartwell swims
through the sweet pain of tears

thickening twilight
spills through half-closed doors
drawing her to the threshold
where familiar faces waver
in the heat of colliding stars

particles of longing
gather in translucent light
a sense of weightlessness
the need to rise
above the clamor of angels
their faded wings
drooping like violets
plucked from a bed of dewy moss

opening her heart
she drifts between clouds
swarms of fireflies
at rest in her graying hair

JZR

The Dimensionality of Sound

The Far Shore On A Rainy Day

The Dimensionality of Sound

Haze flattens the far shore
a dense tapestry
green on green
seared in summer's sizzle

Air thick with expectation
an orange disk of moon
shrinks as it rises
its mirrored image
broken only by fish feeding
on the river's flawless face

Sounds of night envelop me
the rasping of katydids
crickets toads tree frogs
an urgent throbbing
beneath the surface
as August takes the helm

JZR

The Drunk And Women With Doves

The Drunk, Joan Z. Rough © 1998

Here are few more photos from my At The Gates Series. This rather surreal subject matter becomes even stranger when photographed with the plastic toy camera. Though these images are technically still lifes, the camera's flaws bring life to them. I like to think that The Drunk has seen the light and will leave his addiction behind ... that the Women With Doves will release their charges into the sky bringing an end to all war.

Women With Doves, Joan Z. Rough © 1998

In this photo, Praying Hands, I was trying to capture the lack of trust I feel in organized religion. My early childhood experiences with the church led me to follow a path of my own making in which God or Energy or Being is more kinder and gentler than I was originally led to believe. While I used to believe that all prayers were empty words, I've since come to believe in their power.