Haiku #1518 and Tanka

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Tanka…Nobe Okuri 野辺送り

a neighbor’s
funeral in new year week
fluffy snow flowers
from heaven
falling on his coffin…

©2018Rika Inami稲美里佳

My answer:

haiku #1518

snowflakes from heaven
a winter coat of sadness
covers his coffin

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Rika Inami is a well-known tanka poet who writes in her language and English. She takes walks in her native Japan taking photos and composing tanka about them. She’s also a friend of mine and a very sweet lady.

She posts her work daily on Google Plus and if you answer her work she’ll post it on her blog. This was my answer to her photo (above) and tanka.

Haiku #123117

beatifulleafwithholefallbekkiesanchezuse

haiku #123117

an autumn leaf
making way for fresh spring growth
falls, with a flourish

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

leafforwhatfall

This is what I used to make my artwork (part of a larger photograph I took.) I caught a leaf falling, not only that, but it had a hole in it I could see through. It was suspended there just for my camera. I think it’s magic catching something like this while it’s happening. Perfect for this prompt and the last day of 2017. Happy New Year!

Written with Haiku Horizons (my last poem of 2017) for the prompt fresh. Shared with Poets United also.

downloadnewyear2018bekkiesanchez

Haiku #10317

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haiku #10317

leaves fall on the water
snowy egrets roost
autumn at high tide

Written for the prompt “fall” at Haiku Horizons. The photograph is mine taken while cycling on the San Francisco Bay and waterways. Snowy Egrets only roost at certain times of the day and season.

Haiku #31417

#codedwithlove.gif

haiku #31417

the kindness of strangers
the world relies on it-
we should not retreat

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I coded this artwork so it’s different than my usual work.

I wrote this for Gillena’s CKK Anniversary kukai 2017 (retreat), Poet’s United (the kindness of strangers), and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads (the Tuesday platform.)

Haibun #2717

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haibun #2717

Late in winter biking by
I heard a piercing skyward cry
I saw a large bird in the sky
an eagle looked me in the eye
I stopped a spell to watch it fly.

As I continued on my way
along the San Francisco Bay
the waters being calm that day
I watched the shorebirds interplay
stalking the waters for their prey.

the snowy egret
serves dinner
with a splash

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I talk, write and live bicycles because it’s made me so healthy and happy. I ride my bike from my apartment to the San Francisco Bay Trail every other day. This is an area of woods, natural harbors, wetlands, tidal pools and all the creatures that live there. I often take photos and write about them like today.

The photographs (3 frames) were taken by James Graham (my roommate) and animated by me.

Written with dVerse~Poets Pub for Haibun Monday and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for The Tuesday Platform. I see no reason why a haibun can’t rhyme, is there one?

Haiku #12917

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haiku #12917

light as feather
intimate as a lover
the sweetness of life

(c) Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads and shared with Poets United.

We were to take this poem and condense it into something short and sweet. I offer the shortest form possible, senryu.

Sweetness, always

“Why such harsh machinery?
Why, to write down the stuff and people of everyday,
must poems be dressed up in gold,
or in old and fearful stone?

I want verses of felt or feather which scarcely weigh,
mild verses
with the intimacy of beds
where people have loved and dreamed.
I want poems stained
by hands and everydayness.

Verses of pastry which melt
into milk and sugar in the mouth,
air and water to drink,
the bites and kisses of love.
I long for eatable sonnets,
poems of honey and flour.

Vanity keeps prodding us
to lift ourselves skyward
or to make deep and useless
tunnels underground.
So we forget the joyous
love-needs of our bodies.
We forget about pastries.
We are not feeding the world.

In Madras a long time since,
I saw a sugary pyramid,
a tower of confectionery –
one level after another,
and in the construction, rubies,
and other blushing delights,
medieval and yellow.

Someone dirtied his hands
to cook up so much sweetness.

Brother poets from here
and there, from earth and sky,
from Medellin, from Veracruz,
Abyssinia, Antofagasta,
do you know the recipe for honeycombs?

Let’s forget about all that stone.

Let your poetry fill up
the equinoctial pastry shop
our mouths long to devour –
all the children’s mouths
and the poor adults’ also.
Don’t go on without seeing,
relishing, understanding
all these hearts of sugar.

Don’t be afraid of sweetness.

With or without us,
sweetness will go on living
and is infinitely alive,
forever being revived,
for it’s in a man’s mouth,
whether he’s eating or singing,
that sweetness has its place.”

by Pablo Neruda