Tag Archives: haibun

Books and Magpies

Posted on by under Haibun, Magpie Tales

I just found this post (unpublished), so I shall combine it with Tessa’s picture challenge at Magpie Tales as the second part of the post. It has simply been so long since I have blogged that I had forgotten how to actually enter a post! I hope that this finds my friends in the blogosphere well. I do believe that I have finally settled in and actually “feel” this to be home for a change.

I am excited about a project for which I have volunteered. I hope to be doing a writing project with a group of veterans should our Central Library be able to pull together a group. This is meant to take place during January and February. I was also to be a part of a new Haiku Group, but I have found that my commitments are def (as Brian would say) too many. As a result – no haiku group.

When I was a child, I read Mummy’s books. Her book plate stated: “Books Are Like Friends”. And they, (books) have been that way for me for a lifetime. We grew up with a library. It was the most beautiful room in the house. It was filled with leather bound books from the 1800s. They had been my great, great grandfather’s books. I never met him. The books were meant for me one day. Unfortunately, my mother chose not to heat or air condition this room, in Vermont of all places. The books were a complete loss – except for a very few.

David and I bought our first house in 1983 because it had a library. Well that is overstating it a bit. It had significant shelving in one room that became the library. I do not have that here, as we are only 3 rooms, albeit more square footage than our first home. I do have bookshelves enough to place one half of my library into. Leaving the other half of my “friends” behind was difficult. Choosing who to take along was very hard indeed. Quite! Anyway, my books are all in the shelves hodgepodge. Now that I am finally feeling at home I look forward to organizing them. Below please find two haibun. The second is for Magpie Tales.

Haibun
Books have for so long been such very good friends to me.
Leaving one half of them behind during our move was
gut wrenching, like leaving family or old friends. I do
so hope that they feel at home with their new owners.

I have forgotten
yes forgotten my friends
left to dustiness

For Magpie Tales # 247:
Thank you Tess for Maurice de Vlaminck’s Snowstorm. Unfortunately I cannot seem to upload it – ah well.

Haibun
I grew up with snow. A lot of snow, in Vermont. In 1965 when I was 19
I moved to NYC. The biggest snow storm of my life took place. My family
sent me photos of snow above the roof line as they tunneled out.
This is November of 2014 and there are places today
that have had this kind of snowfall.

thick strokes of snow
brackish sky dwindling lights
in the outer world

For Magpie Tales # 247

This Day In History

Posted on by under history, ode, remembrances, sorrow

Three haibun:

I had been at lunch in Third House. I finished my lunch early and I had stopped by Second House, popped into the lounge and sunk into a chair to watch TV. I had spent my sophomore year in Second House and always loved it. However, that day I was a senior of 17 years of age and I lived one more dorm down the street in First House. These old houses, three Queen Anne’s each painted a dull boarding school grey are gone today.

the wild geese above
flew in perfect formation
chaos left behind

The television had been left on. What was happening? Oh my God. The President has been shot. I was in an instant state of shock and awe. Oh my God, did I see this take place? I cannot remember. At that moment I could not even find the words to express what I was feeling. A light had gone out. But it wasn’t just dark or darker, it was chaos, a chaos of the mind, the heart and the soul and of course chaos on the black and white screen in front of me. It was something terrible and it began a run of dark history for the USA.

woodpecker knocking
high above in the maple
a chick all grown up

I ran back to the lunchroom where I shouted out the news. I do not remember another thing that afternoon. I do remember crying myself to sleep that night filled with such emptiness, dread and a sense of aloneness. Lately I have been reading a good deal about the Kennedy’s. Today I am reading: “The Patriarch” by David Nasaw. I will never believe that this assassination was the work of one lone Soviet sympathizer. I also know that the real answers will not be made public within my lifetime. I cannot think of that day without tears coming to my eyes.

shells upon the beach
autumn loneliness
creation of sand

Is this an “Ode”? Maybe, maybe not, None the less It is posted at d’Verse. So, as usual I write my haiku. Then I remember a bit late, kigo use. I rewrite. Then I remember that there must be a “punch.” So I rewrite. I worked to keep them each relevant.

It Was The War

Posted on by under Haibun, Haiku, Memoir

Haibun
Mummy died in 2000, Pup in 2003. I had the tasks of property management and medical care management for my father utilizing the services of 8 employees between the time my mother and father died. I returned to Vermont from the Midwest more times during that first year of oversight than I had visited in the last 34 years. I would oversee the administration of two estates while attempting to manage my own business at home. All done while my siblings would attempt to sue me. I was soon to discover two WWII scrapbooks of my mothers. They were astounding. She served in London in the European Branch of the OWI. The Office of War Information was the Propaganda Wing of the US Government. I have no idea what she did. A while back I read something within these books that makes me believe that she was at one time behind enemy lines in Europe. She endured bombings of London. I do know that it radically changed and reshaped her forever. Today I fully understand her ghastly mothering.

screeching kingfisher
dives and skims the cool water
minnow for dinner

Haibun
“The War was the most exciting time of my life” she said to me in 1998 on the phone. I could only think: “who finds war exciting?” War is grim, grotesque, horrific and evil. I lived through the fears of the Vietnam War Era. I did not relate to Mummy’s nostalgic trip back in time at all. In 2005 I had a spiritual experience that initiated me into my parent’s world. Willingly, I placed myself inside the mind of a Vietnam War Veteran, a stranger. This experience one of shattering pain and one of pure ecstasy lead me to (among other things) study war. The experience in its entirety taught me things that I otherwise would never have known, nor understood about life. It was a truly life altering experience.

firefly lightening
stretching across the meadow
like doodle bugs

Doodle Bug was the British name for the Flying V-1 Bomb(s) dropped on Great Britain By Germany during WWII.

Haibun
I was the apple of my father’s eye when I was born in 1946. Tragically this love ended around 1951. The destructive results of WWII were catching up with both my parents. They each retreated within as two more children were born. The loss of my father’s love would shape my life to come and dominate it for many years in a most un-positive manner. Following my 2005 spiritual experience, I was to experienced my father’s love as it washed over me for the next couple of years replenishing and nourishing all that had been taken away.

little cicada
shedding its summer body
soon too it shall die

I am discovering that this desire to write my memoir through haibun, haiku, haiga and other forms of Japanese poetry will be very difficult. As all know there are many RULES to follow when writing Japanese forms of poetry. I wish to comply however, I must not only write poetry, I must tell an interesting story … or many interesting stories. And I have so many photos. I have removed from these scrapbooks 1/3 of the contents, leaving 2/3 left to with grave difficulty remove, clippings, postcards, letters, dance cards, dinner dates … all sorts of things. These scrapbooks are now 74 years old. Fragile. Each item must be removed with care and then I must have them scanned … by a commercial organization. All when I am not ill – hopefully. I wish to move forward, it is such a slow pace however. I will get there I keep telling myself. Thank you for reading, for your support and for following me.

Please comment critically. As relates to the paragraph just above, I have now written 5 haibun. A haibun is a paragraph of prose about a place, an object or person. My initial 2 haibun were longer – more about me. I wish to get the story across, each story in one short paragraph. I have shortened these 3 above, made theme more concise. Are they two short? Do they tell enough? Do they actually hold your interest and would they make you wish to read more and finish the book (that will be filled with photos? I don’t know. Please you let me know what you think and feel. You won’t insult me. I wish to create a thing of beauty. Remember this will largely be filled with WWII memorabilia. It will tell one how war effects those born into new generations far away from the war experienced by the generation before. It will be a book that I hope will be placed upon the coffee table.

Shared with Poets United for the Sunday Poetry Pantry.

The “N” Word

Posted on by under Haibun, Haiku, Memoir, Uncategorized

Haibun

I grew up with the N word. I do believe my mother may have been the most racist person I have ever known. Her racism however did something positive to me; it gave me great empathy for those different from myself. This experience made me seek diversity as I grew up. My mother didn’t like Jews, African Americans, the Irish, and Italians; come to think of it she did not like anyone. My family did not have television when we were children. One summer I was sent to Maryland. I was at that time showing an interest in boys and apparently behaving badly. I was placed upon a Greyhound bus in Manchester, Vermont and got off somewhere in Maryland. With my little transistor radio close to my ear I listened to the news regarding the March on Washington. I was deeply moved even enraged by the injustice that I heard. Oh how I longed to get off that bus and join Civil Rights Workers as they marched on Washington! This was a defining moment in my life.

yellow butterfly
alights upon the barley
distant lightening

This is gratefully shared at Poets United Poetry Pantry

Forgive me. I had not realized when I wrote this that we had a Disney theme this week.

NaHaiWriMo May 3rd Haibun and Haiku (prompt-mother)

Posted on by under Haibun, Haiku, WWII

Haibun

My mother was once beautiful, elegant, sophisticated.  Easily I remember the cocktail parties.  Mummy and Pup were always at the center of any social gathering.  But home was not really a social gathering now was it?  No, home was where you were real.  And reality at home was very different and very difficult.  I have known for quite a number of years now that Pup was scarred deeply from combat PTSD in WWII.  That makes for very easy forgiveness.  It was not until two years ago that I realized quite fully; that Mummy, as a US citizen worked for the Office of War Information in London during the Blitz.  Once I knew and understood, complete forgiveness was very easy.  Her experience was no different than combat.

Haiku

mother elegance with flair – soul lost to the london blitz 

First Haibun

Posted on by under Haibun

What a wonderful post I received today from one of my favorite blogs: Musing By Moonlight. The title of the post was “Before Dawn,” a part of a series called “Musical Monday subtitled Happiness.” The time before dawn is one of peacefulness, quiet, a wonderful time for contemplation. It was a sharing of beautiful music, so much of it free to all. Indeed it is a gift to all.

 

awakening before dawn –finds quiet music in the heart

Photo Credit