#125 - Rainfall

tin tapping rainfalls
elicit cries of joy
from puddle-jumping child

Warning: There is no poetry past this point.  You have been warned.

Today is April 27, 2014.  Wow, it feels weird to come back to this after my self-imposed 4 month hiatus.  For the last four months it has felt like I offered the world my hand in friendship and it spat in my mouth.

My wife has been very supportive and my daughter, L, who is three, doesn't understand but loves me anyways.  Children are great like that.

Where I live, rain is a common occurrence.  It doesn't downpour, but it will have a constant rain for hours/days/weeks.  It's datable whether it is suicide inducing or not, but for my daughter, she loves it.  She gets to splash in puddles, get her daddy wet, and just have fun.  I on the other hand just get cold.

But, alas, that is me getting older.  I remember when I was her age, yes I can remember that far back, the feeling of the rain storm.  Of hearing the tapping of rain on the tin roofs.  Of the smell of rain on cut grass and once, watching the rain come down and racing it with my father to the store, the rain falling on the cement behind us.  This was one of the few times in my childhood that I saw my father laugh in childish glee.

The rain doesn't do that here, its more like a cloud that is apathetic and just settles in one place, but my daughter enjoys it none the less.

I miss that glee.  Where did it go?  Have I really changed that much or is it the condition of us all to lose the happiness in small things...I don't know.  I think that is why I love haiku so much.  Small, simple, without deceit.

If anyone out there on the intarwebs has a thought, please comment.  I would love to read it.

On another note, I was considering, once a week, to read, record, and post my haiku as a downloadable mp3 file.  What do you think?  Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

Starting tomorrow I will be posting multiple poems a day.  I will reach 365 poems by the anniversary of this blog.

Till tomorrow,

Thomas

What Happened?

Today is April 26, 2014.  

Sorry everyone.  I had an sudden and personnally crippling(emotional, not physically or mentally) event occur and I am just now regrouping.  I do have some of the poems from the missing days, but I feel like I should start a new. Refocus my interests and what this blog is about.  

Shortly, new daily posts will begin again and I will rejoin the poetry community.  I am also considering a story telling blog where I will work in creative non-fiction and tell stories about my childhood and my grandmothers childhood growing up in poverty in the Southern United States.

I am interested if anyone would find that worth their time.

Till soon,

T

American Thanksgiving

Today is Thursday, November 28. I have not been available for a few days.  I have a series of poems to post, but for now, if you are in the United States, enjoy your Thanksgiving; if not, good night.

Till tomorrow,

Thomas

#124 - Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day and anything that I could think of would not be a good enough poem.  Please enjoy this poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

The Charge Of The Light Brigade

Memorializing Events in the Battle of Balaclava, October 25, 1854
Written 1854

Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd & thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack & Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter'd & sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Warning:  There is no poetry past this point.  You have been warned.

Today is Monday, November 11.  Today is Armistice Day, or Veteran's Day.  I have had the pleasure of finding Veteran's from all the wars of the 20th Century excepting World War 1.  Each of these individuals have taught me more able Honor, Sacrifice and Humility than any other person or experience I have ever had.

In the United States, we consider patriotism a great and exemplary trait.  I am proud of our Veteran's.

#122 - 123 - Seven and Later

Reaching out, forward;
Grasping straws of silken strands
await the seven

Each breathe tempts
The times that try all men's souls
Scream defiance

Warning: There is no poetry past this point.  You have been warned.

Today is Sunday, November 10.  10 days into Movember and I must say  that the beard is coming in very thick.  It is past the itchy phase and not its nice and silky soft.

Since my wife and daughter came back from visiting family, my daughter has been sick.  No temperature or anything, but she is coughing and cannot sleep through the night.  On friday, my wife decided that we should try to make honey cough drop suckers, becasue we cannot find anything that was making my daughter feel better.  Let's just say it din't go very well.  So I have a few pro tips for candy making:

1.  the clear plastic candy molds they sell at Micheal's Craft Store is not meant for hard candies
2. honey doesn't make a very good hard candy by itself, it needs help

Till tomorrow,

Thoams

#117 - 121: A few non trads

Running wild, 

the youth adopts

simple trepidation

Jump, skip,

Falling forward

Tearful laughter

Timid Acceptance

Brings wild sensations

Full circle

Laughter, chilling sounds

Await the unexpected

Purpose drive ones

Tunnel vision stokes

The calm imagination.

Couples chatter on.

 

Warning: There is no poetry past this point.  You have been warned.

Today is Wednesday, November 6.

I don't have much to say today.  I was at an event this last weekend and thought of these non-traditional haikus.  Hope you enjoy.

Till tomorrow,

Thomas

#116 - Grass

Grass

Sweet, crisp, and tender

Moisture beads on every tip

Blades of grass glisten.

 



Warning:  There is no poetry past this point.  You have been warned.

Today is Tuesday, November 5.  Today was another day in allergy paradise. No more complaining.

Today is the 5th day of Movember.  Every day in November I will be growing a substantial beard and moustache.  On the last day of November, I will be taking suggestions on how to style and trim the facial hair.  If anyone wants to donate to the Prostate Cancer, please do so. 

One man in six will be diagnosed with Prostate Cancer, one in six of those will die of the disease. 

It has been more than a week since I last posted.  I am truly sorry.  I have a good weeks worth of poems for everyone.

Till tomorrow,

Thomas