Oh, to pocket time It flies one season to next Simply catch a star
This is my response to this week’s W3 challenge which is to create a haiga by pairing a haiku (traditionally about nature) or senryu (traditionally about human foibles) with a visual art form of my choice. The theme: the long-awaited shift from winter to spring.
I think this is a senryu? It is a human foible to think we can control time, right?
The artwork is a little self-indulgent. It’s a collage I made at Christmas. I also made a few ornaments along the same theme, but never did anything with them.
Basswood tree with holes drilled by a yellow-bellied sapsucker
Detailed? Abstract? Both?
I was searching for blogging challenges this morning. Having a challenge keeps me posting. The challenge of Detailed or Abstract — or both came from Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge (CFFC) which, it appears, has been taken over by Dan Antion. Cee Neuner started the long-running challenge. She encouraged blogger/photographers to take photos or go through photo archives and post photograph(s) based on the prompt. Mostly, she said, to have fun.
This was a photo I took in the Adirondacks. I was there with a friend who is very knowledgable about nature. If you’ve never walked in the woods with someone who knows them well, make it a bucket list item. My Adirondack-loving friend knows the common names and Latin names of all the trees. He know the birds. He knows the stories and the lore. I love hearing it all.
The yellow-bellied sapsucker pecks holes in horizontal lines in basswood trees because they like the soft bark. Apparently they also like apple trees, birch trees, maples and more. They drill their rows of holes then leave them for the sap to ooze out. Later, they return to eat both the sap and the insects trapped in it.
To me, I just liked the look of the tree with its vertical bark lines and the horizontal sapsucker lines.
In my quest for blogging inspiration, I found a poetry challenge: frozen water that called for using synonyms for the famous “frozen water” in Minneapolis without using the word for immigration enforcement. I’m way over the word count for the challenge, but I’ll put it here FWIW
Winter walk Snow and cold Past a tree Many holed
Does sap freeze? (Water will) Sap won’t run In this chill
What do birds Who eat sap Dine on now Sap’s the trap
People use Something worse [sideways move in this verse]
Intimidation Immigration We are lost As a nation
Take away Legal status Now they are Called non-gratis
They are NOT All worst-of-worst [unintentional outburst]
I sigh a sigh ‘Cause I don’t know How to help Or where to go
At the feeder There’s a jay “BULLY, BULLY GO AWAY!”
Warm My lap Come sit here Let me stroke you Let me run my fingers all over you You nibble on my fingers while I do Yes, you want more I feel it My dear Cat
This is my response to the W3 prompt and to the JusJoJan prompt which is prompt.
This week’s prompt for W3 is to write a Double Tetractys — a 10-line poem with a fixed syllable pattern.
Theme: something spicy or a little naughty. Keep it suggestive rather than explicit. Let tension, humor, and implication do the work.
A Double Tetractys is made of two Tetractys poems joined together:
The first five lines build up
The next five lines mirror them in reverse
Syllable pattern (per line):
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 10 / 10 / 4 / 3 / 2 / 1
Yes, I have a friend with a cat that can’t get enough of me. She sits beside me, on me, nibbling at me. It’s love.
The fog comes on little cat feet Highwayman comes riding First loves In poetry become heartbeat This love is abiding Because
The moon’s tossed upon cloudy seas And meanwhile the wild geese Fly home i thank you God, for rhymes like trees That become gentle breeze Poem
This week’s W3 challenge is to write a Memento — a poetic form created by Emily Romano. A memento poem captures a holiday, anniversary, or meaningful moment held in memory.
The poem is written in two stanzas. Each of the two stanzas follows this syllabic pattern:
Line 1: 8 beats
Line 2: 6 beats
Line 3: 2 beats
This pattern is repeated once per stanza, for a total rhyme scheme of a / b / c / a / b / c in each stanza.
True story: I wrote a Memento poem about what I thought was the first poem that I ever wrote. My mother had saved the paper witten in my blocky large first grade printing. She told me that it was the first poem I wrote. I always thought it was a pretty darn good poem for a six year old.
Then I fact-checked my mother this morning. I did NOT compose that poem. Oh, I wrote it on a piece of paper and got a gold star from my teacher, but it was not my original words. [sad face]
So, I tried to remember when my love affair with poetry began.
It was probably One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss. He still influences my writing.
But Carl Sandburg’s poem Fog is the first stand-alone, non-nursery rhyme, non-Dr. Seuss poem that I remember loving.
I memorized The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes a few years later. That was the beginning of my love affair with story poems. We had a book of story poems that included Casey at the Bat and The Cremation of Sam McGee, but I loved the melodrama of The Highwayman.
I found that story-poem book in a box recently. It was in sad shape. Such is the fate of much-loved books.
So what was the first poem I ever wrote? I have no idea.
Distorted images, truths, faces, facts They grow, shrink, grow again, moving all the while
What am I seeing? What is true? I must escape this cave…
This song, The Cave by Mumford and Sons, has long been a favorite of mine. When it was in its auto-repeat phase for me, I was fascinated by the lyrics.
What does it mean to “Come out of the cave walking on your hands”? I looked it up. Those lyrics are a reference to both Plato and St. Francis of Assisi, who both sought to understand life.
The song challenges us to look at the world differently.
While not using the word “philosophy”, it IS a response to Sadje’s JusJoJan prompt: philosophy.
It’s also my attempt at a Cherita, the W3 challenge for this week. Cherita is the Malay word for story or tale.
A traditional cherita unfolds in three verses, each growing in length: Verse 1: one line Verse 2: two lines Verse 3: three lines
A man named Harry McBubbish Wrote a novel he wanted to publish But all those who read it Suggested no edit But said, “This book is rubbish!”
Spinster/publisher Mary Contrary Read the book that was written by Harry “Oh, Harry,” she sighed “Make me your bride And I’ll publish The Blueberry Fairy.”
Aging is not an illness, a tragedy, or a problem awaiting a solution; aging is the price we pay for life which is a greater gift than we deserve.
Will Willimon, Aging: Growing Old in Church
I can’t remember names very well But faces stick with me. And voices. I’m still mobile and active. As Monty Python said, “I’m not dead yet” — so Today I will Celebrate — Life is Good!
Yes, I’m a senior citizen. No, I’m not old.
True story: I DO recognize people better by their voice than their face. And I remember their face better than their name.
Celebrate was the prompt for JusJoJan today. The nonet was just for fun.
I grew up in this old famhouse. Here I stumble over memories Stub my toe on them even Sorting is quite daunting This house is haunting Daily I try To get one More box Done
The W3 prompt is: Write a Nonet about the new year — 2026. How does this year feel to you so far? Are you hopeful, uncertain, energized, reflective? Have you set any goals or intentions? Are there resolutions you’re excited (or nervous) about? My goal for the new year is to wrap up dealing with my parents’ estate.
But — But what? But you’re wrong Yeah? And I’m King Kong That doesn’t make you right You wanna fight? Ok, tell me how you figure That minus five is bigger Than minus two That’s easy to do! You think you’re smarter ‘cuz you’re older But minus five is clearly colder
“Write a poem (up to 20 lines) as a conversation, text thread, or inner dialogue. Let the two voices go back and forth — negotiating, hesitating, contradicting — but never quite landing on a plan. Play with repetition and everyday details to build tension and show who these people are. Slip in small observations that make the moment feel real. And when you get to the end… leave it unresolved.”
“I know it’s in here somewhere,” She said as she dug through her pocket She pulled out some coins, some random keys A gold chain and her grandmother’s locket
She set in the dish a wadded up tissue A hair clip, a Swiss army knife “I know I didn’t forget it,” she said As she pulled out a drum and a fife
“Could I offer you this?” she said to the man As she pulled out a cup of iced tea The TSA agent sighed a big sigh– “Ma-am, I just need your Real ID”
Write a poem of 10 lines or fewer that places someone—or something—in a delightfully improbable location. Think sharks in a bathtub, a dragon in a bar, or any unexpected presence where it clearly doesn’t belong.
I know, I know — it’s 12 lines, not 10 — but I was on a roll.
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 