NAHAIWRIMO 2024 Feb 2

 

BRAVO

poetry slam –

my friend and I

tie for third

NAHAIWRIMO 2024 Feb 1

 

ALPHA

Alpha Romeo 

a name of magic –

hungry youth

Along the road ...

 

along the road 

someone whistling – suddenly

my childhood

Under The Pinnacle (Snapshots)

Photo on postcard – rather more than a mere snapshot! – 

© Andi Islinger 1996, used with permission.

(The following 'word snapshots' were views 

from the other side and much further down.)

1. Looking up

Last time I looked up, The Pinnacle rose from mist; now it’s whited out.

Waterfalls of cloud curl over the mountain rim, a frothing torrent.

Pockets of mist stay, lingering around the foot of the jutting peak.

On the mountaintop a line of tree silhouettes, back-dropped by white sky.

2. Looking around

All green – grass, trees, hills; at the tip of a long stem, one red hibiscus.

Purple, red, yellow lanterns outside my window – the flowering trees.

A butterfly poised white on the end of a stem – the azalea sways.

In the farthest tree, suddenly a bright red flash – a rosella feeds.

The hibiscus dips: a magpie has glided in; it perches, head cocked.

Moss on stone; bare stone pointing finger-like to sky; bare sky; one small cloud.

***

Side view of The Pinnacle: the central, sharply pointed peak.

The 'word snapshots' were viewed from the bottom 

of what is here the left face.  (Photo mine.)

When, 30 years ago, my late husband Andrew Wade and I came to live in the Northern Rivers region of NSW, Australia, we rented a house for the first few years under a peak called The Pinnacle, not far from a village named Tyalgum. This weekend I'm one of the featured poetry readers at a one-day festival in Tyalgum, so I fished out some of the poems I wrote back then. These above were originally supposed to be haiku. I didn't know how to write haiku then – I thought it was just a matter of syllable count. So I have now discarded some, slightly rewritten others and turned them into American sentences (invented by Allen Ginsberg as a Western version of haiku). Each sentence is a separate snapshot in words.

Sharing this post (off-prompt) with Friday Writings #110 at Poets and Storytellers United.

Where were you ...

where were you stuck

in the time of COVID –

together? apart?

My Book of Days

The small daily poems I've set myself to write this year are  gradually being removed to a new blog (click to find): My Book of Days.

Small stones are meant to be outward-looking, whereas my daily poems have become more and more self-reflective, so I decided they don't belong here but need a blog of their own. 

Week 4 of NaHaiWriMo 2023

22. EVENING

first open the doors

letting the cool air inside —

then shut out the dark

23. VESPERS

Vespers, no —

I pray informally

any old time.

24. BEDTIME

elderly cat

inspects to make sure

I’m tucked in safe

25. ELEVENTH HOUR

my 83 years

feel lovely, but I wonder —

should I write faster?

26. MIDNIGHT SNACK

just one bite

of dark chocolate

before bed

*

if I can’t sleep

toasted raisin bread

and hot cocoa

27.  DEAD OF NIGHT / WITCHING HOUR / 

WEE SMALL HOURS.

second wind

I stay up ’til three

in secret

I like being

the only one awake

in the quiet 

28. THE LAST HOUR

friends tell me

that unconvincing lie:

plenty of time

*

the last hour but

so many books still to read –

and to write

Week 3 of NaHaiWriMo 2023

15. HAPPY HOUR

alone now

I raise a glass to you

happily

16. DINNER/SUPPER

‘Come to supper!’ —

puzzling ‘til we found

she meant dinner

(dinner: evening meal

supper: the snack before bed —

but in which country?)

17. GOLDEN HOUR / MAGIC HOUR

that long moment

when light intensifies —

just before dark

18.SUNSET

sunset —

the long night

stretches 

19. BLUE HOUR

the blue hour

the closing door 

the silence

20. TWILIGHT

interface

between light and dark —

space for magic

21. DUSK

gradual dusk —

the hills across the way

begin to dim

Week 2 of NaHaiWriMo 2023

8: ELEVENSES

time to stop

for a hard-earned cuppa —

elevenses

9: NOON:

midday pause —

a breath before afternoon’s

flattening heat

10: LUNCH

ladies who lunch –

I joined them after

widowhood

11: MIDDAY

walking away

casting no shadow —

disappearing

12: NAPTIME

my cat and me —

two old girls napping

together

13: TEATIME

hot scones, jam and cream —

not in sub-tropic summer

thanks very much!

14. AFTERNOON

afternoon rain

a hint of thunder —

don’t go out!