Month: November 2017

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A Waterfall of Violets

Waterfall Violets

A rolling-pin gracing
the kitchen wall
visages of her life
speckles  in the landscape
of my mind

a woman of small stature
with black hair
almond smiling eyes
a happiness laced laugh

I am embraced, a nephew’s wife
I left my shoes by the wall
inside the threshold

a home far from Kyoto
amidst the evergreen trees
I entered a coalesced union
both east and west

cultivated plants to bloom
black wrought iron shelves
a waterfall of African violets
blossoming shades of color

pink
violet
white
blue

feisty approach to business
offerings of octopus
dried salty seaweed

gastronomy not fathomed
teaching me her language
sharing plant knowledge
easier to impart

the rolling-pin still
flaunts her efforts
black char marks

remind me of a fusion
a friendship
between east and west

© November 2017 Renee Espriu

This is my fond memory of a woman from Japan named Nobu.  I met her years ago when I was married to her nephew. She was married to an American serviceman she met in World War II. She lived here for many years until her husband’s passing and then returned to Japan where she eventually passed away. It was an honor to know here.

The above photo is taken from Public Domain Pictures and digitally altered by myself.

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A Single Wink In Time

Powder blue painted firmament
inhaled in a single breath
a cushioned cradle for my soul

hands ciphering the distance
to embrace this tranquility
to coalesce this miracle

sun’s warmth salubrious
rays pulse gold nuggets of life
a radiant fragrant aloe balm

touching a single wink of time
becoming a scope of magnitude
am shrouded in a calm destiny

weighted heavens are buoyant
evident of stellar celestial bodies
emanating love and I am home

© November 2017 Renee Espriu

The photo combination below was taken from Public Domain Pictures and digitally altered by myself.

Wink In Time

 

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Gods Like A Twining Snake

Gods cloaked as inner fears
grounded in DNA
like a twining snake
posed to lunge
to strike

waiting within a tired mind
weariness a braided chain
harnessing movement

reality sinking into quicksand
bogs of memory calling
burning names
taunting

Gods of money and loving guns
meaningless possessions
of nameless masses

when the use of words like arrows
taken from the quiver
can be weaponry
to fight

dueling with engines
created of cells
stinging like bees

identified as expectations
masked as perfection
a straight line
blue chalk
do not cross

we try to let go, let be
erase illogical revenue
nothing money
can buy

for these Gods leave
no purchase
are grounded
on a slippery
slope

quickly buried by mud slides
that alter belief in self
confidence askew
in the remnants
of time

© November 2017 Renee Espriu

Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Prompt is all about gods we make in our image. I did a bit of looking into this idea and found this on Wikipedia giving an explanation of what ‘belief’ means. People can turn something they believe in to that of a god. Money, guns, nature and even things that cannot be touched…that which we believe to be the case, those things we think about within our minds. Belief is stated to be in Wikipedia as “the state of mind in which a person thinks something to be the case, with or without there being empirical evidence to prove….the case with factual certainty.” There is a quite lengthy definition of ‘belief’ and how it can become a god. See more at her site at https://jamiededes.com/2017/11/15/gods-of-our-making. The photos below were taken from Public Domain Pictures and digitally altered.

Serpent God

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The Music of The Conch Shell

The conch sea shell is a reminder always
of where it is she really belongs

of small hands holding the beauty
of ocean waves within its’ confines
hugging her ear & she in awe and wonder

even now when she cradles it closely
and listens longingly and intently

she can see the waves building high
coming to crash along the sandy shore
where seabirds add calls to the score

to a music with a wondrous crescendo
the color of sea salt spraying her skin

the wind picking up the string section
with soprano highs & contralto lows
& a sky of variegated blues the backdrop

connecting the ocean stage to the horizon
unseeing of the stage hands hidden below

but bringing memories of dolphins dancing
upon the ocean stage & the magic of whale song
whose singing plays the melody all the while

she knows with utmost certainty she will return
to the place where she really belongs

© 2017 Renee Espriu

This was first posted in the last month issue of The Bezine, editor Jamie Dedes, which can be read in more detail at https://thebezine.com/project-type/the-bezine-vol-4-issue-1-music-anniversary-edition-oct-2017. There are two photos below taken from Public Domain Pictures and digitally altered.

Conch Shell Music

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Guns Are Not The Path To Peace

The child found what looked like a toy
but when a way was found
to fulfill curiosity

found their friend
lying dead at their feet

guns are not the answer to feeling secure
left lying within the reach of
innocence

she was about her morning
preparing breakfast
on yet another Valentine’s Day

when she heard a gunshot
fill the air
and looking ’round

found her husband
of many years crumpled
in the doorway

dead…a gun in his hand

guns are not the answer to depression,
to problems seemingly
having no answer

Leaders of the world always disagreeing
make plans for larger armies
to carry more guns

to kill more people who are caught
in the cross hairs

guns are not the answer to solutions
for forcing others to agree
to another countries’ ideas

guns are not the path to peace

© November 2017 Renee Espriu

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Writing Prompt. Read more responses at https://jamiededes.com/2017/11/01/dueling-with-words-to-stop-gun-violence-wednesdays-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from Public Domain Pictures and digitally altered.

Path To Peace