Tag Archives: haiku

local architecture

14 Aug

20130814-180936.jpg

This magnificent house in one of the neighborhoods in my corner of the world deserves a haiku, no? It’s magnificent and marvelous.

oh, house on the hill,
with your quaint and mystery,
kindly let me in.

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Day Thirty.

29 Apr

Poem

what is a poem but a plan?

i, your brownie,
will be in like and in like and
turn the pages of time and
fly to the heights of the sky
with you.

we don’t need a home in
Emerald City, love,
for it will be right here, in our
simple home with our unencumbered
rooms.

for 1 + 1 equals me and you,
and we will always be the answer—
dancing and tumbling because
we want to, and saying it all the while
aloud, no mind reading.

it will always be autumn for us:
living in the centers of both our worlds,
hardly relegated to corners or the
uncertainty of infatuation,
you, my little bee.

no paper doll here, but the real thing:
a real, beating heart,
real gratitude for you,
the real me for real you,
no archetypes necessary.

i will accept the company
of you, and i will always choose you,
because you’re the prettiest apple
of the eye a woman could ask for
and not defer.

from Emerald City to Damascus to Emmaus,
every step and place brimming with clarity—
our L-O-V-E,
electric in its glee and maturity,
unshackled and free.

you are the ink in my pen,
and I’ll rhyme for you, just say when,
the moon in your sky,
ready to shout and reply
that our love will never burn.

But here it is:
whether rain or shine,
whether push or pull,
you will always be the “you”
in verse, fiction, or haiku.

yes, what is a poem but a plan?

Day Twenty Eight.

28 Apr

Sun Haiku (Lament More)

oh, powerful sun,
will you ever realize
that the love you share
should refuse to be bound by
a solar eclipse?

Day Twenty Six.

26 Apr

Moon Haiku
(Lament No More)

my miserable
moon, when will you realize
that he may own the
sky, but you control the tides?
he burns; you consume.

conversational snowflakes, and other such topics.

24 Jan

“Conversational snowflakes,” courtesy of a good friend of mine. I love it. Anywho, it was an interesting weekend all around, with plenty of topics for conversation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, it did snow, and there was plenty to say about it. It wasn’t the “just flurries” jive turkey that the weather quacks predicted. Certainly, it wasn’t the Snowmageddon situation that happened in these parts some years ago, but there was accumulation. Enough to keep me in my pajamas for the entirety of Saturday. And since I judge the seriousness of weather based on my having to wear sleepwear during the day, yes, it was something. Really, though? I feel that all of us on the mid-Atlantic and the East Coast (myself included) should stop being shocked at wintry weather. We are in the middle of winter, after all. Why do we open our mouths in surprise? Who do we shake our fists at the gray, snow-producing skies? Come, precipitation! We await you. Oh, and can I just say that pajamas all day are the best ever? The absolute best ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This will be a generalization. Sorry. Men? Are the above. I won’t go into much detail right now. Just trust and believe that they are, and the truth of that generalized statement was more than underscored for me this past weekend. What about the good ones out there, Kitten Heel Marvel? someone may ask. There ARE good ones! Perhaps. I don’t know any, though. No, no, I do, but they don’t count toward this argument. And I’m sticking to this argument like glue. Once I unclench my fists, perhaps I may let up. Until then? Ignore the obese cuteness of that creature and reflect on what I’m saying. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A haiku for my favorite sleepwear:

warm and flannel pajamas

on a winter’s day

i promise to keep you close.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It really does make a difference, to have an assembly of friends and people who do the above for you. I’m fortunate and thankful to have such people in my life. I reunited with two of them this past weekend. They are a husband-and-wife team of inspiration and goodness. Just lovely. There are a few changes afoot in my life right now (all good, more info later), and to have those two people in my corner, cheerleading me on: what an inestimable treat.

So despite the snow and resulting ice, despite the presence of pigs, the weekend was filled with fuzzy pajamas and a personal, emotional boost for me.

How was your weekend?*

*I recognize that it’s Tuesday, and the past weekend may have retreated back in the hazy corner of memory, but try to remember? Please and thank you?

Haiku? Thank You. #4

24 Aug

There will be haikus, yes, but first, a few updates. It’s been a while, Kitten Heel Marvel.

And heeeere come the bullets…

  • So there was an earthquake on the East Coast yesterday. Yes, the preceding sentence was typed. An earthquake. On the East Coast. I happened to be at work, went through utter confusion and a few nervous breakdowns when it happened, and ran like the wind to get out of the building. Yes, the preceding sentence was typed. I ran. Like the wind. Later, much later, I learned that I should have stayed in the building and gotten under a desk. Somehow, getting out seemed natural. Anyway, following said earthquake, enter bedlam. It took me THREE HOURS to get home on the Metro and I learned the following: it’s not always Metro’s fault when chaos and/or mild disaster strikes. There are a lot of stubborn, unlistening, priggish, immature, ridiculous people out there. And most of them rode the Metro yesterday. Ugh.
  • I got a new ‘do. And I loves it. It gave me a much-needed boost. Quite honestly, I’d been looking a bit like a wild-haired zombie lately. This happens. Going through the motions, stressed out, kinda blue—all of which do not inspire new hairdos and updating the looks. So I’m happy for the boost. I’m happy to be forced to maintain an actual style and removing the option of throwing on a headband and being done with it. So yay for little changes. And yay for a new stylist who listened to me, made some awesome suggestions, and gave me a great overall experience.
  • Got to visit the bestie this past week for a nice respite and vacation. Tons of fun, lots of vacation eating, good, grand times. More updates on the trip itself will come on The Lonely Passport. I just have to say, if I haven’t said it before: I just adore the bestie. There’s really nothing like a good friend.
  • Fall is in the air. Fall is in the air! I can feel it. The boots are coming…
  • I’m writing. A lot. This is a good thing. I’m a weirdo, so I won’t elaborate on the plotting and characters and all that. Suffice it to say: I’m writing…
  • I saw this movie:
  • And cried like a baby. It was moving, touching, hilarious, thought-provoking, and dignified the book version. Absolutely wonderful.
  • I also saw this movie:
  • And loved it. Well done and thrilling popcorn fare. And Andy Serkis, the guy who does all the motion capture stuff for these movies, deserves more accolades for his work. Excellent.

Bullets end here. Just a tiny update on what’s been going on. Now, without further ado, a haiku (intentional rhyming). In honor of yesterday’s event:

earthquake

is that an earthquake?
feet failed me before, not now–
the new Flash Gordon.

Haiku? Thank You. #3

10 Aug

On this Haiku Wednesday, I decided to feature a haiku written by a certain poet. That noise you’re hearing, dear reader, is my contented sigh…

Japan by Billy Collins

Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.

It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.

I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.

I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.

I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.

And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.

It’s the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,

and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.

When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.

When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.

And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,

and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.

BJ & FE SCOTT

...LIVING THE BEST LIFE EVER!

Sincerely, Taj

Dear World, I have stuff to say, so get cozy. Here, I've got cupcakes.

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