Rachnoc Haiku 9, Hour 9
Dark wall juice, grimy,
Web sack emerges from truth,
To water he floats.
Strange New Thing
cw: none
The canary wasn’t sure what to think:
suddenly, in its isolated life –
after the day with the open window
– someone new came into the room.
They did not feed it vellum flowers,
or make it bleed black ink;
they gave it seeds,
and bandaged up still-bleeding wounds.
Not knowing how to react,
the canary bit.
They left, and
it knew
this was deserved.
Hour 3: Time
Memories have always made my mind swerve in circles
As if they, themselves, can’t quite figure out which direction to go
Like taking a safari, if the guide were senile and possibly less than sober
To your left, you’ll see my great-grandmother cursing in Hungarian
as if her kitchen was a 5 story apartment complex engulfed in flames
and the nearest firefighter was 18 miles away
because someone had the nerve to imply she was cheating at Canasta.
We snapped this photo just in time. You can’t see me in the frame, but I can see me.
Standing behind the man holding our new fangled digital camera and, trust me,
I was laughing as hard as she was cursing
But she is gone now and this memory has turned from citrine to cerulean
And quick! To your right
It looks like we’re just in time to see the common night predator known as “that guy”
Now don’t be fooled by his looks,
this one’s dangerous,
whatever you do, don’t make direct eye contact
See how he grabs me by the arm
Watch as my resistance becomes a broken nose and two black eyes
But wait!
See my fists transform to fire forged fury
And this night of obsidian turns orange
And dead ahead, behind the bushes
Watch as our playful puppy grows into dying dog
This one
This one, I never could quite figure out
When they can no longer jump onto the bed
When their aching joints move like molasses
When dinnertime no longer brings a wagging tail
And they try not to yelp as they put one pained paw in front of the other
The vet tells you “it’s time”
“It’s kinder this way”, the doc will say
“Can’t you see, she’s in great pain?”
The family gathers round
Teary-eyed and torn
Wishing she could talk
Tell you what is wrong
Where is the pain, pup?
Show me where it hurts
But I promise you that
that would only make it so much worse
See, let me pose a problem with these progeny pups
If they could, indeed, say what they need
That pet would look a lot like me
Too close to human
A brand new breed
And they would tell us where the agony lies
And we would tell them it gets better
They’d say how much it hurts, this life.
And we’d convince them that they need to fight
And this would mean the devastation
Of the “dog is man’s best friend” equation
But this has been the way for eons
And something must be done
And so dog, always the bigger man, would choose to evolve
Into something that no longer speaks
Until the only sounds they knew to make
Were grunts and barks and growls and yelps
Because then we would relearn to help
Then, and only then, you see
We’d listen to what they had to say
If I learned to bark as she
Do you think they’d start listening to me?
If I used yelps instead of rhymes
Would the doctor finally say “it’s time?”
Again
I did it again,
I pretended to
not miss you,
I pretended to
not think about you,
I pretended to
walk away,
I was the one
who say bye,
I am the one
who said
I am sorry,
I am the one
that says again,
we can try this again.
Sister Love
I had a beautiful sister
I carry her in my heart.
She was my only sister
But now we’re permanently
apart.
Her name is Pam she was
gorgeous and tough.
sometimes we fought
together; but we never
fought one another.
At times we would disagree
but that’s to be expected.
Like once she wore my
holiday outfit, knowing
it was too small.
My sister and me would
take long walks. We’d walk
for miles and miles.
Sometimes I’d drive to
pick her up and bring her
to my side of town.
My sister was a trouble soul
but she smiled despite of that.
I miss my sister and wish
she was here to support
me and cheer me through
this.
I know she’d be my biggest cheerleader.
Prompt for Hour Nine
Text Prompt:
Below is a list of ten words. Please pick at least five of them to use in your poem. If you want to use all ten, please do so.
beet
jacket
tremor
bayou
elbow
lightbulb
cinnamon
bucket
elk
carport
Image Prompt
Photo by Diane Carmony
Sighs in Tears 2 – Hour 9
The bells rung.
The swarm come.
Endless, sweet pledge murmured
Oblivions nectar drips assured.
The tithe to be dispensed.
Our mass recompensed.
We will tell all.
Deaths homily of forever.
5 PM – An Ode for the Birds
An Ode for the Birds
For Luna, Matilda, Minerva, Obi, Hazel, Freyja, Reddington, and Carson of the Eagle Creek Ornithology Center
Bird of prey, with the bad reputation
You’re wild, you’re free–
You lack the expected sweet disposition.
You belong here, in the great outdoors.
No walls to bind you, no windows, no floors.
Diurnal– raptor
How they seize and carry,
prey to perch and fill their empty bellies.
Horned–beaks and talons,
discernment in their eyes.
As they look upon our faces,
we are the problem.
The Day My Mother Died
she was the age I’m now,
on the day she died
too soon to say goodbye, so much to be missed
she kept the family tied together
with an invisible thread she took with her
on the day she died
I thought we were a cohesive family
enjoying everyone’s life
having dinners around a table
I think it was envy
that made them all turn on me
I was closest to our mother
we had a relationship
not just mother and daughter
we were best friends
first to cross the line in the sand was my own daughter
then followed my sister, then my beloved brother
then my father, who had always been mean to me
my family is lost to me
no more holiday dinners
no happy birthdays to share
I survived a profound depression
trying to understand why
why my family could do this to me
I still love my daughter unconditionally
I could find it in my heart to forgive her
but no one else deserves me
I suppose we weren’t so happy
how could we have been
to fall apart so painfully
on the day she died
I held her hand till she passed
I felt her soul leave her body
I feel her presence in my life
her soul touches mine
I’m not alone…she loved me
Hour 8: Tracking Shadows
( from music prompt at YT: Max Richter “On the Nature of Daylight” https://youtu.be/rVN1B-tUpgs?si=xsBUL8uLRS2Yi8gR )
:Repeat:
I watch the way light flows
-over flagstones
-over walls
-over water
Catches my attention at odd times
And when it does
I sit, remembering.
And think, and recall.
And sit, and wait, and wait, and wait.
And I breathe and remind myself that I am.
I AM
I am this, this – this here, now.
Here and now. And I am still.
I remain, and recall, and waiting for the moment the memories wash out again
-and I can breathe-
Breathe deep and true.
I am here. As this. As me.
Others are here, yet still – but not in shapes I knew and held and loved
There is a sorrow in that, regret, grief but also joy and love in memory
Breathing – I am. I know I am.
Finding ways, I muddle onward, muddle upward.
Light tracks
-over flagstones
-over walls
-over water
Catching my attention
And I repeat this refrain of loss and love
It is as the seasons
It is as the tides
Grief
growth
love
loss
endurance
growth
sadness
Again –
I watch the shadows track through the day and think
This action,
This time
This process
-is me
-and us
-and is all of us
Breathe in
Breathe out
Find a way forward
-each way
-each day
I watch the way light flows
:Repeat: