Haibun – Phase Two – April 28, 2020

Haibun — Phase Two — April 28, 2020

So, yesterday I didn’t go online. The happy days of singing from the balconies and the enthusiastic – “This too shall pass! Yes We’re going to make it!” has gone by the wayside with lost jobs, death tolls, polemics and accusations. And the ravens caw all around us.

in darkest hours

old blackbird sings his song
remembering spring

It’s not that the emergency is over. People are just scared or worse bored. They aren’t worrying that there are still people dying. All too often people only understand when they too are touched. Just as they don’t know of the millions who sicken and die from lack of food or water. A photo is worth a thousand words, but pain is intimate and real.

no rain has fallen

even the flies hide away
– deadly drought

Many days have passed and many things have changed, if only for a few days. Cleaner air, cleaner water and the animals have returned. Everywhere films were made and some cheers were raised. Pretty pretty … But now humanity is tired of sheltering from a silent invisible killer, which when you look closely only kills the old and weak. The economy is wounded, petrol again has no value, people are not consuming. Stop Phase one we need to hurry up phase two!

in the silence

earthshine crescent moon

spring of COVID

© gsk ’20

Here in Europe, the common blackbird is a species of true thrush. It is also called Eurasian blackbird, or simply blackbird where this does not lead to confusion with a similar-looking local species. It breeds in Europe, Asiatic Russia, and North Africa.

In North America when one talks about a blackbirds one usually thinks about a crows or a ravens which are a completely different thing.

Read about blackbirds here:

https://dreamingandsleeping.com/blackbird-spirit-animal-symbolism-and-meaning/

Ciao!

Haiku- Shiva’s Dance – April 10, 2020

 

Shiva’s Dance (Tandava)

even headless crowns
must move to Lord Shiva’s tune
– Tāṇḍavam

© gsk ’20

In this time of the COVID-19 pandemic we might remember that even the coronavirus is part of the world and follows its principles.

“Tāṇḍavam (also known as Tāṇḍava natyam) is a divine dance performed by the Hindu god Lord Shiva. The dance is a pictorial allegory of the five principle manifestations of eternal energy:

Srishti – creation, evolution
Sthiti – preservation, support
Samhara – destruction, evolution
Tirodhana – illusion
Anugraha – release, emancipation, grace

Thus Tandava symbolizes the cosmic cycles of creation and destruction, as well as the daily rhythm of birth and death. ”

Revisiting Padua – Sijo – April 10, 2020

past discarded farm instruments
I went wandering one day–
attracted to bright autumn colours
when I soon  became aware –
that  long dark wintry shadows
were menacingly all around me.

gsk ’20

You can find out what type of poem this is in Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie .. Glassary under Sijo

Haibun – Isolation Spring – April 8, 2020

Haibun – Isolation Spring

Days in isolation tend to blur. The lock down in this COVID-19 spring is different from my past. I’ve spent hiding from palpable danger, that made your heartbeat race. For example, when I was young I lived in Chad. That spring, I didn’t need anyone to tell me to stay at home because there were armed bands of rebels and government soldiers roaming the streets. One knew there was death outside. Death which could break down the door and come into your home.

in the night
tat tat tat tat
–silence

In Italy when spring arrives, days are warm.  Larks and blackbirds would warble their delight in the early morning.   Children would be out in the streets going to school. A couple of gossips would be standing on the corner exchanging all their news. I’d walk down from my house to the cafe to read the newspaper and drink an espresso. Enjoying the sunshine and the freedom of movement without a coat.  Ah … memories.

chattering
warm sounds of spring
new life

Now it’s spring.  Thank heavens the birds still sing and the days are still warm. But they tell me that we’re in danger.  No one will break down my door with guns, though some dramatic politicians and news people speak of a global war. I find it difficult to feel afraid here in my Italian valley.  Everything is even too peaceful as everyone is shut away.  We live in an age of the miracles in our modern age. I never would have thought that a sneeze would cause fear.

in the street
aaachoo
–silence

gsk ’20

The Gull – April 3, 2020 – Shahai

swoop
catching the wind
– last light
gsk ’20

 

I think the  idea of a shahai or a haiga is not to describe the illustration but to communicate a feeling or sensation that the photo has “captured”. So, the gull hit my fantasy but Instead of saying:

a gull
catching the wind
– last light

I wanted to communicate the overall sensation of that moment. The swooping of the gull, being buffeted in the wind, even as I was buffeted when I took the photograph.

Now dear readers, what is your opinion about this shahai … any suggestions, any comments?  Thanks for stopping by.

Ciao,  Georgia

Haiga – March 28, 2020

Written for Haiku Nuggets

with a lotus
in an old pond
plop plop
irreverent koi
seeks perfection
(c) gsk ’20

 

In a Silent World – March 26, 2020 –

Trains still run here in the silent world of illness that is Italy.  There are those who believe that the virus which has killed so many is not really so very bad.  Often people don’t believe, until they are in someway hurt, that bad things really do exist.

I sit on my terrace in the silence, the birds sing, the wind is warm and pleasant, the sun is warm.  There are no distant sounds of cars or jets high up in the sky to leave their white streaks.  The sky is limpid, virginal in fact, as though mankind has ceased to exist.

Looking back on the spring of 2020,  I will remember the silence of the clear skies and the earth as seen from satellites showing a “surprising” decrease in pollution.  I and many will also remember the silent truckloads of corpses, victims of the COVID-19, that snaked through the early morning streets of Bergamo. Many may never live through the silence of mourning loved ones. I mourn the many I’ve never met feeling sure that no one will mourn me.

But we are not yet finished with this illness, though we may be bored with it.  It’s so difficult to be healthy and isolated in this silent spring. Life is being renewed and spring beckons to us like a siren.

The silence is too loud.  We are so used to our comforting noise … the constant hubble-bubble of machinery and commentary.   Some will say: how absurd, why should we be isolated like this … and will congregate.  Then soon there will be more silence.

my heart beat
in social isolation
a silent world
gsk ’20

Samara Ennui – Haibun – November 6, 2018

 

I’m writing, doing what I’ve always dreamt of doing, I’m enthusiastic, I feel revitalized.  People are reading my work, liking it and giving me great suggestions that help me better my work, I feel part of a community … and then I don’t.

Sure, I’d had some bad moments recently in my life, but I kept up my writing and my photography kept on going but at a certain point, for no apparent reason, I found I hadn’t turned on my computer for months.  What happened?  Why did I stop?

I’ve always been a pretty creative sort of person, although not a creative genius.  Since I can remember I’ve always passed hours enjoying my painting, drawing and writing.  I easily pick up skills, I’m a quick study as they say, so I had no problems learning how to sew, crochet, sculpt, cook or whatever else came my way including learning anatomy and acupuncture meridians and points.  But, and there’s a big but, since puberty, I periodically go into more or less long periods of ennui.

I slip into a sort of limbo, where nothing seems very important to me at all.  I pass hours (days at a time) reading or watching TV series.  I do get out of bed because I abhor an unmade bed. I eat whatever is at hand (usually nothing particularly healthy) just as long as it’s quick and fills me up.  I don’t live in chaos, my house though not spotlessly clean is fairly orderly, I make sure of that because I hate being in a messy dirty place.  I drift through life, doing the minimum necessary to get through the day. Fortunately, as I’ve grown older, self-preservation has guaranteed that I keep a life-line open to the outside world.  I do have a couple of friends with whom I never lose contact with completely.

Then one day, something changes … I take a look at myself and my life and a tiny spark glitters.  It may take weeks or months but I become constantly more dissatisfied with drifting.  I realize that I’ve become overweight, that I haven’t done much of anything interesting for a long time, that I’m bored with my books and the TV.  I start looking into diets and exercise (just looking). I get the urge to write or sew myself a new outfit or paint a picture (just the urge).  I become frustrated and panicky. Then the looking around becomes watching what I eat and going for walks, joining a dance class and bicycling.  The urge becomes turning on the computer, looking through models for a new outfit, and choosing a great piece of material.  Usually at this point  my life has started to move again.

I don’t really know why this happens to me.  I’ve gone through analysis, I’ve meditated, I’ve had great mentors throughout my life who’ve stimulated me giving my life a sense of meaning … for a while anyway.  But eventually, there it is, the chasm of ennui into which I slip (not fall) and the cycle begins again. The drifting isn’t painful and I don’t even feel bored.  It’s when I move on, when I become aware that maybe there can be more to my life than books and TV,  the awakening, which is the painful part, fraught with anxiety and impatience to move on.

Have you or anyone you’ve known gone through this sort of thing?  I’d like to read about it, so please leave comments below and let me know.

winter snowflakes
passion gives way to
spring dawn
a never-ending cycle
my Samsara ennui

 

 

Autumn Thoughts – Waka – September 29, 2016

 

 

near the roadside
a weed covered fence
and old dead leaves
no warbling blackbird sings
smell the burning bond fires

the train passes
screeching iron on iron
the earth shakes
then silence fills the air
crashing waves of silence

old man and woman
passing in an autumn day
each lost in thought
memories of the days gone by
no thoughts for tomorrow

sidewalk cafe
drinking bitter espresso
here – a crying babe
there – shadows dance in the street
McCartney sings “Let it be”

© Gsk ‘16

 

Dreams of spring – Tanka – September 12, 2016

Carpe Diem Special #218 Dolores’ 2nd “dreaming of spring”

This is the second special dedicated to Dolores of   “Ada’s Poetry Alcove”, a tanka about life’s cycle:

autumn
flowers drop their petals
summer gone
they sleep in cold earth
dreaming of spring

© Dolores

And here is our host’s lovely tanka:

a last leaf
fights with the fall storm
its color fades
struggling against the wind
it surrenders

© Chèvrefeuille

And now for my attempt:

autumn
as two lovers kiss
on a park bench
even without blackbird song
spring dreams return

© Gsk ‘16