An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Monthly Archives: July 2014

 

there was a neighbor<br />
let grass grow long and shabby<br />
folks got angry<br />
a sight that made sore eyes<br />
he didn't budge ~ was a grudge</p>
<p>www.todayshomeowner.com

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There is the old saying, I know. “the grass is greener…” 

it is an interesting one, 

and sometimes literally true, 

as well as metaphorically,

and can have to do with appearances and perceptions 

as well as “reality” of course. 

 

We ambled on the Ambler grounds here, 

around the Wilson house, 

and came to a place where the grass was distinctly greener,

 in a small valley where water must have been. 

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It reminded me that from the air, 

flying into Philadelphia, 

I noticed shades of green

that seemed to come from my Northeast childhood, 

and my “forest heart” responded. 

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Where have you felt, 

or seen a greener green, 

and how does it, 

how has it affected you? 

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tanka prompt:  grass is greener
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there was a neighbor
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let grass grow long and shabby
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folks got angry
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a sight that made sore eyes
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he didn’t budge ~ was a grudge
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Kathabela Wilson’s image (c) 2014
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Autumn Frost from blogsite

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Kristjaan writes:  

Today I love to share a, not so well known, haiku by (my master) Matsuo Basho

in which we can read and see how ancient Japanese honored their parents.

As they did honor their parents we see nowadays

more dis-honor for parents or likewise parents for their kids.

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te ni tora ba kie n namida zo atsuki aki no shimo
.
if taken into my hand
melting in the heat of tears
autumn frost
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© Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)
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As was common in those times this haiku had a preface:
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‘At the beginning of September I came back home.
I was already long since my mother had died. 
The grass in front of mother’s room had withered in the frost. 
Everything had changed. 
The hair of my brother and sisters 
(Basho had a brother, an elder sister and three younger sisters)
was white and they had wrinkles between their eyebrows. 
We could only say, ‘we are fortunate to be still alive’. 
Nothing more. 
My elder brother opened an amulet case and said reverently to me, 
‘Look, at mother’s white hair. 
You have came back after such a long time. 
 
So this is like the Tamate Box of Urashima Taro.
 
Your eyebrows have become white’. 
We wept for a while and then I composed this verse.
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yes I do sometimes write a preface to my haiku as was common in Basho’s time):
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 Chèvrefeuille preface
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This verse of Basho touches me deep, because it brings painful memories. My Grandparents are all gone and also my elder brother died. As I look into the mirror my hair is starting to become grey. When my brother was still alive he surely would be grey, because he was several years older.

 

life passes –

in the early sunlight

the ripe melts

 

frost on the branches

melts in the early sunlight

life passes

 

© Chèvrefeuille (2012)

 

my hair turned grey

as if it was the frost

on bare branches

 

a pebble

thrown into the old pond

in an eye blink it’s gone

 

© Chèvrefeuille (2012)

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My response preface:
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In red to honor my mother who loved red to go with her
white blouses and black skirts. 
(Her  white pearls she wore often looked elegant with red.)
 
When my mother died, my 
father had already been gone for many years,
a baby sister died decades ago.
I became the matriarch
of my immediate small family:
a younger brother, (who became the patriarch when dad died)
two adult children who may be past their middle age,
and four granddaughters who are adults or nearly adults.
Time goes by so quickly…
in my mind, I feel as if I’m still in my thirties,
I look in the mirror, and it says otherwise.
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My response haiku… 
in baby blue to honor my father with the bluest eyes
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my hair has gray frost
my eyes did too with cataracts
gram looked back in mirror
I see again with clarity
the miracle of medicine 
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.(c) Saradunn 2013 Full moon over Downeast Maine, USA

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The prompt:

Kaga no Chiyo, considered one of the foremost women haiku poets, began writing at the age of seven. She studied under two haiku masters who had themselves apprenticed with the great poet, Basho….

In 1755, Chiyo became a Buddhist nun —

not, she said, in order to renounce the world,

but as a way ‘to teach her heart to be like the clear water which flows night and day’.

From that moment on she is known as Chiyo-Ni (Ni means nun).

 

Credits: Chiyo-Ni (1703-1775)

Chiyo-Ni is known for her wonderful Morning Glorie’s haiku, but today we don’t have a haiku on Morning Glories by her. We have another haiku written by her, not so wellknown I think, but a strong one. It’s an autumn haiku.

meigetsu ya ittemo ittemo yoso no sora

autumn’s bright moon,
however far I walked, still afar off
in an unknown sky

© Chiyo-Ni

In this haiku there is a feeling of separateness here which is not to be denied. The poetess realizes that she and the moon are two different entities, in a different sky, in a different world….

at the mountain top
it looks like I am bigger than the moon
in her first quarter

© Chèvrefeuille

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My inspired response:

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same moon shines bright

far away city and home

over the moon and back

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(c) 6/2013 Saradunn… Purple lupine

 

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This prompt is inspired by the poetry of Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902), 
who seems to be as well-known for his tanka as for his haiku.
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What to say about a man who endured incredible pain – 
but chose to sing through that pain? 
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As you may already know, 
Masaoka Shiki was struck by a severe form of tuberculosis 
when he was 22 years old. 
Tuberculosis is a disease that attacks the lungs and causes the sufferer
to cough up blood and lung tissue.  
He changed his name from “Noboru” to “Shiki” – 
after a bird that (in Japanese legend) 
coughs blood when it sings.  
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In later years, the tuberculosis attacked his spine as well. 
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The man
I used to meet in the mirror
is no more.
Now I see a wasted face.
It dribbles tears.
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© Masaoka Shiki
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So much of his poetry seems to reflect a “beautiful suffering” – 
and a recognition that life is fleeting. 
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in memory of
the spring now passing
I drew
the long clusters of wisteria
that move like waves
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© Masaoka Shiki
And while we feel sorrow for a life that passed so quickly – 
I think we should celebrate the spirit that chose to sing in spite of the pain – 
the optimism that saw beauty everywhere 
and chose to celebrate life as much as grieve its passing.
 
I do not know the day
my pain will end yet
in the little garden
I had them plant
seeds of autumn flowers 
 
© Masaoka Shiki
 
Here are my (Ghost Writer) two (humble!) 
offerings for this prompt.  
The first is a haiku that I wrote several weeks ago, 
but I think it fits the prompt fairly well.
while I was sick
the birch found its leaves –
my grief in green
 
© Jen R.
remembering
Queen Anne’s Lace and chicory
in their swirling dance –
how the autumn-brown stalks
make me dream of summer
 
© Jen R.
 
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My response to the prompt
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early winter ~ icy tears
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remembering  purple  lupine
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burning bushes
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when whales played and sang to me
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autumn’s  gold ~ red  maple leaves
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.coronapumpkinfarm.com  Bee on Cantaloupe Blossom

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The prompt:
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Today our second haiku by Yosa Buson. Buson 

was a haiku-poet and he also created wonderful haiga as a painter 
… so he was really an artist.
Buson had the honor to illustrate the first paper publication
of Basho’s ”Narrow Road to the Deep North” (Oku No Hosomichi),
the most famous haibun ever written. 
Buson however wrote wonderful haiku too.

In an earlier post at CDHK we had haiku about ”melon-flowers” 

and the haiku by Buson which I love to share here is also on ”melons”.

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adabana wa ame ni utarete uri batake

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fruitless blossoms
are beaten by the rain
in the melon fields

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© Buson (Tr. by Thomas McAuley)

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A beautiful haiku I think … 

well I hope it will inspire you to write haiku. 

Here is my attempt to write a haiku in the spirit of Buson.

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every where I look
the yellow flowers of melons 
after a sunny day

 

© Chèvrefeuille

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My response to the prompt:

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cantaloupe blossom

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long dry summer days and nights

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thirsty for rain

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Memory you can touch . iconic bridge draped with American flag Inspiring special events celebrated here photographers gather

(c) 2014 Saradunn.  The Somesville Bridge, Maine, USA  7/7/2014

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Memory you can touch

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iconic bridge

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draped with American flag

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Inspiring

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special events celebrated here

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photographers gather

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note:
When the flag is on the Somesville, Maine, USA
bridge, I feel a swell of joy in my heart…today 
I didn’t expect to see the flag, and I went across 
the street to take more photos myself. Each time
the flag is draped from the bridge and the reflection
is like it is today… it causes me to reflect on the
flag and all it means to this country and me.

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Friday, July 4, 2014 prompt: tangible objects that remind us of absence

( I have been waiting to give this evocative prompt for the right moment, for more than a week.

It was suggested at our first Monday Tanka Meeting at Caltech by James Won.

He recalled the haiku written by Busan about stepping on his dead wife’s comb.

In fact his wife was alive at the time, and outlived him by 31 years!

But the incident of stepping on it,

and the premonition of absence was enough to create for Busan,

the inspiration for the fullness of the feeling of absence.

We all have moments like this.

What tangible object gives you ripples of feeling,

recalling (or anticipating) the absence of someone, a love, a friend, family, even yourself…

and makes those feelings tangible in this kind of vivid way.

How what vivid way do you bridge those feelings in your tanka?)

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July 4 prompt: tangible object that reminds of of absence

July 4 prompt: tangible object that reminds of of absence

 


 


photo copyright 1992 Sigrid (Stevens) Saradunn, dancers, Libitzki School of Dance, Ellsworth, Maine, USA

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It was delightful to have a special 
lunch served  restaurant style at the
1992 St. Dunstan’s Episcopal Church
Christmas  bazaar and then have the 
Libitzki School of dance come out and 
dance for us up front and personal… 
a recital that delighted and as you 
can see.
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church Christmas bazaar

home made gifts  and cinnamon rolls
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Libitzki ballet
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lunch success ~ tasty ~ tables full
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ballet students ~ entertained
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note:
There was a full baked goods for sale
table but the cinnamon rolls were a 
special treat for me.  

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Bangor, ME : Cole Land Transportation Museum - Bangor Maine

from the Cole Land Transportation Museum

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The Prompt:  Tanka Poets on Site, Facebook
Wednesday, July 2, 2014 prompt; “a field trip” 
curiosity in new world that widens your perspective
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Kathabela Wilson
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(June Wayne would have loved our group and our visit to her show today. I
t’s diversity, enthusiasm and curiosity looking into her inspiring world.
 In fact she herself had a flair for creating and inspiring groups 
such as ours to met and explore new things. 
Her broad, immense talents applied to her 75 years career, 
till her final days at 93, were sparked by curiosity into every field, 
combining art, science, poetic thinking, 
she made paintings, lithographs and immense tapestries. 
She had a gift for combining such things as DNA chains, fingerprints 
and inspiration from Hokusai’s Great Wave, 
and cosmic imagery with visionary strokes of genius. 
 
 “I know it’s strange to hear someone my age talk like this but I am very curious” 
she said. 
 
How has your life and perspective been widened by curiosity? 
How do you explore the details of science, the unknown,
 and combine the diverse cosmic discoveries annd technologies in your tanka. 

 

My response to the prompt:
Cole transportation Museum
Bangor Maine
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An old vet friend
gave me a guided tour
Coles museum
family treasures for all to see
tributes to our service men
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from the Cole Land Transportation Museum

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The Prompt:  Tanka Poets on Site, Facebook
Wednesday, July 2, 2014 prompt; “a field trip” 
curiosity in new world that widens your perspective
.
Kathabela Wilson
.
.
(June Wayne would have loved our group and our visit to her show today. I
t’s diversity, enthusiasm and curiosity looking into her inspiring world.
 In fact she herself had a flair for creating and inspiring groups 
such as ours to met and explore new things. 
Her broad, immense talents applied to her 75 years career, 
till her final days at 93, were sparked by curiosity into every field, 
combining art, science, poetic thinking, 
she made paintings, lithographs and immense tapestries. 
She had a gift for combining such things as DNA chains, fingerprints 
and inspiration from Hokusai’s Great Wave, 
and cosmic imagery with visionary strokes of genius. 
 
 “I know it’s strange to hear someone my age talk like this but I am very curious” 
she said. 
 
How has your life and perspective been widened by curiosity? 
How do you explore the details of science, the unknown,
 and combine the diverse cosmic discoveries annd technologies in your tanka. 

 

My response to the prompt:
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Galen Cole’s dream
walking sticks for veterans
four war eras
reflective stickers ~ maple canes
each era cane distinctive

World War II veterans who participate in Bangor’s Memorial Day Parade each year
also have a red-white-and-blue sticker with the year on it placed on their walking sticks.
This year, museum volunteers were on hand before the start of the parade with a new sticker
created especially for veterans of the Korean War, Vietnam War and Global War on Terror
who marched or rode in the parade with their walking sticks.
Several hundred veterans turned out for the parade last month,
bringing their sticks to be adorned with the reflective stickers,
and museum founder Galen Cole said he hopes that those who weren’t able to take part on Memorial Day
will bring their walking sticks to the Fourth of July Parade and get their 2013 sticker then.
The walking stick program at Cole Land Transportation Museum was planned as a one-time project
on Memorial Day 1999, with 500 maple walking sticks made by Peavey Manufacturing to be given
to World War II veterans to help boost their participation in Bangor’s patriotic parades.