Tag Haibun

One Wild Song – Līgo Haībun Challenge

freyathewriter 14 Comments

The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Ye Pirate and Ese.

This week we are invited to be innovative. Instead of completing our prose with a haiku, we can choose an alternative style of oh-so-brief poetry. I have selected the Cambodian pathya vat style – four lines of poetry where the second and third lines must rhyme.

This week is also prompt week, and i have chosen the Mexican proverb ‘It is not enough to know how to ride – you must also know how to fall’ as my inspiration.

Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there…

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– One Wild Song –

The weather yesterday was what I told myself to be the winter version of the day of my dad’s funeral – blue skies, here and there the odd wisp of teased, cotton wool clouds, everywhere crisp and bright.

It was a fitting day for us all to gather for his memorial service. A man who loved colour in his clothing as well as in his art, he would have delighted in such a day to celebrate his life, his achievements, his work.

Throughout the service – a mixture of classical music, hymns, choral works, poetry and other readings – I kept on thinking that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the man himself had arrived, charging down the aisle in a puff of cigar smoke, rainbow-hued tie flailing. It was all so ‘him’. The stunning surroundings, the atmosphere, the sheer grandeur of it all, yet wrapped in an intimacy so tangible it could almost be touched and held close.

So many amazing sentiments were expressed. They were touching, even humorous at times, topped off by a huge round of applause fit to lift St Paul’s Cathedral from its foundations and expose the OBE Chapel to the world outside.

It could have been no better.

clapping of hands
stings in echoes
for life that flows
– sorrow no more

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Singular – Līgo Haibun Challenge

freyathewriter 23 Comments

The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Penny, Ye Pirate and Nightlake – and now Esenga has joined their happy band! Why not take a trip to their blogs to find out more?

This week’s is picture week, and I have chosen the ethereal image below, taken by Ye Pirate:

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Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting any of the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there… I will visit each and every one as soon as I can!

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– Singular –

I remember growing up as an only child and feeling like the odd one out. At home, after school and at weekends, I was perfectly, blissfully happy. I had my imagination. I had the stories I wrote, my books, my mum, my step-dad. We were a unit, one of each, a triumvirate.

All of my friends seemed to have siblings – older, younger, sister, brother. Everyone had someone, except me. If I thought about it too much, it made me miserable at worst, lonely at best.

I used to stay with a childminder after school and I loved it. The lady, Ann, had two daughters of her own, one my age and one a few years younger. We had a great time playing together. I was treated like one of the family, met their grandparents, was given presents at birthdays and included in their Hanukkah celebrations.

As I grew older, I began to relish being just one. I was never selfish, but I understood that I was lucky not to be caught in the sibling rivalry trap that seemed to obsess so many of my friends. The eldest always had to set the good example, always appeared to get the blame for the naughty escapades of their younger siblings. The youngest always appeared to feel like they weren’t quite as good as their much-vaunted and older siblings. Nobody seemed to win and everyone always envied me.

My own siblings came along much later – I was almost a teenager when my first sister arrived. I was too old to have to set a good example, too old to be caught up in the petty disagreements that seemed to matter so much to my friends. I am blessed to be part of such a different family. I think that in a way, I have the best of both worlds.

empty seats no longer
brothers, sisters are here
no, I am not alone


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Cuts Like a Knife – Līgo Haibun Challenge

freyathewriter 14 Comments

I have decided to dip another toe in the world of the haibun – a piece of prose followed by a haiku poem. The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Penny, Ye Pirate and Nightlake – why not take a trip to their blogs to find out more?

This week’s two alternative prompts are:

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough – Rabindranath Tagore

or
The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful  – E.E. Cummings

I have chosen Rabindranath Tagore as my inspiration – I hope you enjoy it.

Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting any of the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there…

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– Cuts Like a Knife* –

She sometimes forgets. Wrapped up in the treadmill of her days – the getting up, the showering, the dressing, the rushing out of the house; she is distracted.

Half a mind on this, the other on that.

But then, late at night, as she steps into her bedroom, switches on the lamp and bathes herself in its pool of yellow light, she catches a glimpse. She is peeling off the day; removing her jacket, her blouse, skirt and stockings. Her mirror records the moment, that millisecond when half-turned, she sees the inky etchings on her rose-blushed skin. It was a choice she made not so long ago, to record a time in her life that changed the path that she thought had been set.  A reminder that for her, life’s opportunities must not be taken for granted and yet sometimes, she also just needs to breathe.

the butterfly kiss
whisper-soft, yet knife sharp
in its impermanence

*Yes, I have Tagore’s quote etched on my skin, in a huge spiral across my back, starting at the base of my spine. Yes, this is autobiographical. No, you don’t get to see pictures!

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