May 20, 2018

Happy Haiga Day!


© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

spring garden
...just in time

May 18, 2018

Poetry Friday--A Year or Two or Three Ago

I'm having a bit of a dry spell as a writer. It could be the state of the nation (depressing), or it could be that the spring weather is making writing seem like a winter-only activity. It could just mean that I need a break. Whatever the reason, I have nothing new. I'd feel guilty about not have a Poetry Friday offering, so I'm looking back to May last year, the year before, and a few years before that to see what I was writing.

May 16, 2017

golden bright
the new green lit
by sunlight
songbirds vocalize
with a spring breeze


May 17, 2016

an absence
of poetry today
--colonoscopy


May 17, 2015

mid-December
Halloween's butterfly wings
now on an angel

[Obviously, I was working on my Angels project at the time.]


May 17, 2014

Family Vacation, Circa 1961

We never went on cruises
or stayed at vacation resorts.
Our vacation spots were
cheaply rented or borrowed
bungalows, often shared
with aunts, uncles, and cousins.

One night we all went to dinner.
Nothing fancy, not expensive,
but the food must have been
good, because two men of
some renown came in to eat--
Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris.

I'm sure you've heard of them.
They were gods--baseball gods!
We got their autographs on
the greasy spoon's cheap paper
napkins. If only someone had
had a camera to take a family shot.


May 19, 2013

Mother's Day...
on the soles of her shoes
pink petals


May 17, 2012

spring rain...
the lean in the sapling
the lean in me


May 11, 2011

late afternoon...
today would have been
her birthday


May 18, 2010



GRAY

Two months before he and Mrs. Lincoln
went to Ford's Theater, the president

had a portrait taken at Mr. Gardner's
Gallery. The photographer caught

the shadow of Mr. Lincoln. He was
by then, merely a body without its soul.

Little did John Wilkes Booth know,
his bullet would only be the coups de grace.


I was going to go back to 2010, but the above is so depressing, I'll go back another year!


May 17, 2009

three new songs
their singers unknown
--Sunday morning

All poems © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Rebecca is hosting the Round-Up this week at Sloth Reads!

May 15, 2018

Haiku Sticky #454


© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

interstices
tree frogs know when
the gap needs filling

May 13, 2018

Happy Haiga Day!


© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

first of May
as if on cue--
a butterfly!

May 11, 2018

Poetry Friday--Dance!

About thirty years ago I took up contra-dancing. Contra-dancing is an American form that developed from English country dance (the partnered lines of dancers that you see in Jane Austen movies). It was great exercise, the live music was exhilarating, the community was welcoming, it was an all-around great way to spend an evening. After a while, though, life intervened, the community became a little gossipy, and the exercise became a bit too much for someone with asthmatic tendencies. I drifted away. Still, I miss dancing.

So today, I want to celebrate dancing, even if it's someone else doing it! And I'll do it through poetry.

It took me a long, long, time to actually complete a golden shovel. If you follow the Poetry Friday blogs, you've found that the golden shovel seems to have become "The Form" of 2017-2018. Everybody's been writing marvelous ones and I'm coming up with uninspired, pedestrian, poems. I tried too hard to write one using a line that was too long. I'm a short form writer, so why was I beating myself up trying to write something using a dozen or more words? Duh! I found this quote by Charles Baudelaire that was short and spoke to me.
Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.
I am a big Facebook user and a viewer of innumerable videos of cats and dancing babies. So, is it any wonder that my golden shovel turned out like this?
With the Music

Before anything else comes dancing.
Before talking, before walking, is
a diapered baby jiving. There's poetry
in that wiggling tush with
a rhythm in her bobbing noggin. Her arms
gesticulating. Work it, baby! And,
oh, how she kicks those chubby legs!

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

[Note: if you've read the adult novel The Alice Network by Kate Quinn (a hot title with book groups), the mention of Baudelaire may make you queasy.]

What follows are a few non-golden-shovel, dancing poems from my files.

The first is from January 2011.
Dancing
Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing. ~ William James

With the music we lift our
feet. Our arms float. Our hands
take on a life of their own. As
the tempo picks up we laugh
for we know what Common
Sense said is true, "You can't
dance with a broken heart."

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

An ekphrastic tanka from November 2012 inspired by "The Peasant Dance" (1568) by Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

Text:

outdoor dance party
the musician plays through
the drunk's rendition--
no party is without
its red-nosed souse

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

The last one was written for Laura Shovan's Sound Poem Project in 2015.
enkele sprongen van een danser
(A Few Jumps a Dancer)


A few whistles a bird.
A few licks a puppy.
Too many whistles a penalty.
Too many licks an assault.


A few jumps a dancer.
A few words a poem.
Too many jumps a diagnosis.
Too many words a rejection.


A few flowers a nosegay.
A few tears a reunion.
Too many flowers a funeral bier.
Too many tears a broken heart.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Jama's Alphabet Soup will be hosting the Poetry Friday Round-Up for this week. Enjoy the feast!





May 8, 2018

Haiku Sticky #453

Haiku or senryu? The political scene is already heating up. Why, why, why must we spoil the delights of a long-awaited spring?


© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

May birdsong
drowned out by news
of primary races

May 6, 2018

Happy Haiga Day!


© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

we sit in silence...
a cool breeze hastens
the end