Unforgettable…

 

I’ve had two haiku and one haiga included in the newest edition of Wild Plum, a haiku journal, 3:1 Spring & Summer 2017.

 

unforgettable—
the taste of zinfandel
on your lips

 

 

forgiveness
the new year’s moon
lights the way

 

 

mourning-haiga

 

March brings lots of wonderful poetry journals. Another favorite of mine is
Wild Plum, a haiku journal, 3:1 Spring & Summer 2017. The journal is edited by Gabriel Sawicki. This journal is based in Poland, and it has a very international group of readers and contributors. The haiga editor is Maria Tomczak. I hope you will go to their journal directly and read it in full. It’s a very beautiful journal (lovely cover art by Azi Kuder. I’ve added a link at the bottom of this posting.

 

screen-shot-2017-03-04-at-4-33-14-pm

 

Here’s a link to the complete version of this  lovely haiku journal:

screen-shot-2017-03-04-at-4-55-05-pm

Sunday Morning

The Ekphrastic Review: writing and art on art and writing, has published my poem, “Sunday Morning.”

Let me give you a brief “back story” on this poem. Many years ago, I stopped writing completely for around twenty-five years. Total silence in my life. I don’t know why it happened, but it did. After what can only be be termed a spiritual experience on a trip to the Fijordland in New Zealand, poetry somehow magically entered my life again. I can’t explain this. It just happened, and I know it happened for a reason. This poem was the first complete poem I wrote when my poetic “voice” returned, and it’s only been read by one other person until today. It’s taken me about fifteen years to gather courage to submit it anywhere. My deepest thanks to editor, Lorette C. Luzajic, for publishing this piece.

Here is the link to the journal: http://www.ekphrastic.net/ekphrastic/april-21st-2016

 

Rijksmuseum out the window

Rijksmuseum, Out the Window (c) 2013 Mary Kendall

 

Sunday Morning

 

Hymns unsung, prayers unsaid,
I sat by the window and prayed
for forgiveness one more time;
one more time I begged.

 

Holding the cup of coffee in my hand,
I hoped the warmth would fill me
where your words had left me cold,
but I knew nothing could do that—
fire can burn for hours and be unfelt.

 

Hymns unsung, prayers unsaid,
I lay down on the empty bed, pulling
the blanket across my cheek, turning
from the window, from the sky
and the sun, praying for some rest.

 

 

 

Note: The window in the photo is not, of course, the window of the poem. I love taking pictures of windows when I travel, especially indside looking out. This photo was taken in June 2013 when my husband and I were in Amsterdam, visiting the beautiful Rijksmuseum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Acceptance

Acceptance, photograph by Iosatel (c) 2015

“Acceptance”  Photograph by Iosatel (c) 2015

Should you wish to listen to the poem, click on the link below. It will take a few seconds to begin.

 

Acceptance 

There—on the far side of memory’s window—
You stand there on the outside looking in.

Distanced, safe from the rawness of our lives,
You are given a choice whether to judge us

Now or see if we try to make amends, to heal
The hearts that have been torn at the edges,

Frayed by the refusal to forgive, and let others
Move on, a final repentance, a simple lesson

Of learning to forgive our own mistakes, our
Choices or the decisions we came to regret.

Life is not all black and white, but endless shivers
Of grey, silver, and ebony; hues of cream, ivory

And moonlight, and beautiful colors begin to bleed
Into our fabric when we accept others as they are.

Paths get worn by walking, grass just wears away.
Road crosses road, briefly intersecting, and then

Leading to new and unexplored places where
There might be answers if we put aside our slanted

Views and look well beyond our differences.
Beneath this fragile shell of life we are the same.

Why is this simple lesson so hard to learn?

 dove and monkey

Note:  The main photograph (at the top of this page) used with this poem is a beautiful piece by the photographer, Iosatel. It appears on his photography blog, The Obvious and the Hidden, http://theobviousandhidden.com.

His black/white pictures are both beautiful and mysterious. Along with the intriguing pictures are his titles, which never fail to interest his many followers. This photo was entitled, “Acceptance.” It was this that began this poem. My warmest thanks to Iosatel for allowing me to use this photograph with my poem, ‘Acceptance.’

Frozen Moments

Frozen Moments (c) 2015 Harald Illsinger

                                             Frozen Moments (c) 2015 Harald Illsinger

FROZEN MOMENTS

It doesn’t matter that your words were shouted
In a peal of sparking anger, anger spewed
In moon-white flames tinged with flicks—
Sapphire blue and poppy red and yellow.

Burning so hot and fast, those thoughts
Consumed themselves and all
Nearby, including what remained
Of hope
For change…
Your change,
Your transformation.

And when the fire burned down,
All that was left were the ashes of your anger.

Small chars of memories…
Frozen moments of who you were…
Once—
Long Ago.

Unable to forgive—even yourself,
You are locked in the ice of stagnation,
The ice of inner struggle.

Frozen fire—
No thaw,
No shift,
No change.
No redemption.

Frozen
Moments
Forever.

old_pocket_watch_buried_1774093

Note: Many thanks as always to Harald Illsinger for the use of his exquisite photograph, Frozen Moments (c) 2015. His work always serves as such wonderful and unexpected inspiration.