Haiku and a photo I love

Image by Piedhillprawns

.

A favourite photo and an unrelated haiku:  This little ‘Paper Daisy’ sits on Logan’s Ridge of Mt Barney.  I had to scramble out precariously to take the shot (like I didn’t enjoy doing that) professional nature photog style.  In the background are Mt Ernest and the ‘wedding cake’ shaped cliffs of Mt Lindsay on the QLD/NSW border.  I love living here.

.

.

.

young gum tree

throws down its leaves

facing the wind

.

.

self-indulgent grief

I’m never sure if I should post poems like this.  I wrote it Tuesday.  It was Isaiah’s birthday, he would have turned three.  I found myself thinking about MY loss and not really about him.  Then snapping out of it, I again realised how ridiculous the process of grief can be and where the mind wanders.  A psychologist told me that if the model of Adam and Eve in a perfect garden (all perfectly created) is our origin then we were never created for grief.  We weren’t given the proper capacity to handle loss very well.  Perhaps that is why it is so awkward and painfully emotional.  Scribbling the emotions down has certainly helped the process of grieving for me and I hope you don’t mind me sharing it.

.

self-indulgent grief

is a sticky film

the memory likes

to touch

feeling the tackiness

fingering the sorry feelings

wallowing in

memories

hopeless sadness

pain

sorrow

to feel their tackiness again

.

like touching the sticky photo

of my brother’s engagement party

I’m standing to the side

an empty shell

still in shock

from the night before

wondering what I’m doing there

my Uncle’s voice plays in my head

“….you’re unbelievable

to be here”

but not coming

would be worse

and I play the tape again

to feel the emptiness

.

C.S Lewis

describes it:

a ‘bath of self-pity’

‘the loathsome sticky-sweet pleasure

of indulging it –

that disgusts me.’

.

and suddenly

you awaken

and notice your memory

fingering the

grief

.

tearing your hand away…

.

“Happy Birthday Isaiah!”

“How are you little guy?

You are three today.

You would be running around

with your brothers

skinning knees

kicking footballs

riding a new tricycle

down a big grass hill

.

Have a great birthday

where you are,

skinning knees

kicking footballs

riding a new tricycle

down a big grass hill

we love you mate

Happy Birthday!”

.

A Glimpse Of You

Lady In The Water by Robert Kraft

.

Did you see that?

Did you see the person you want to be?

She just appeared

like a side character in a novel

She is gone now

Again

But you saw her right?

You caught a glimpse?

When you just said those

real words

and gave your eyes

and heart

to that frightening story

you just listened to

for the past half hour

in this busy party

.

Brisbane Ekka haiku/senryu

Brisbane’s Ekka is here again.  The city folk line up to taste the country.  The country folk suppress their smirks at city folk standing in wet cattle dung on the pavilion floors.  Dagwood dogs, fairy floss, show-bags, sheep shearing, live lamb births, children milking cows… ahhhhhhh.  Here are a couple of senryu from our Monday visit and also a link to great Ekka Haiku by Brisbane poet Graham Nunn here:  Ekka Daze .  Love it.

.

city bound train

young girl with mum and nanna-

playing I-Spy

.

.

Ekka feeding yard

the bigger ugly goat

receives none

.

misty market voices

.

The morning fog played at our feet

swirling softly, dulling voices

just like a mountain village street

Brisbane Markets shouting choices

.

“Bananas… Cav bananas here!”

but today his voice is swallowed

in padded walls of atmosphere

Low, heavy, carved out and hollowed

.

Then it lifted, it disappeared

Swiftly whisked by the waiting sun

like a silk table cloth is cleared

by the waiter’s hand on the run

.

The strains of change for every eye

if it paused, looking up to see

the vast blue wispy marbled sky

above the markets of Rocklea

.