poetry

Haiku Adventure–Part Three

/ Juliana Lightle / 4 Comments

What I learned from these poems:  what is usually considered good writing for other types of poems may or may not apply to haiku.  Alliteration provides an example.  Generally, in poetry alliteration merits a plus.  Not in haiku.  Regardless, I decided to leave the alliteration in this poem.  When I eliminated the alliteration, the effect I wanted disappeared.

red roan horse runs

rain roars

deep depression in mud

252154_10150250709710868_549391_n-2

Generally, I teach senior English–British literature.  However, one short class twice a week contains all freshmen.  My assignment:  teach them what they need to know to pass the state STAAR for ELA.  This poem illustrates what occurred during the class this past week.

teaching freshmen English class

What is a pronoun?

they stare; no one knows.

Haiku Adventure–Part Two

/ Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

After receiving positive feedback on the following three poems, I learned that two of them cannot be haiku.  Why?  They instruct, give directions.  Such teaching is forbidden in haiku.  Regardless, I decided to post them anyway.  At least the Meditations will illustrate what not to do if you want to write real haiku.

 

Meditations

shut your eyes, be still

listen to the wind, rain, thunder

shut your eyes, be still

 

 

open your eyes, be still

watch coyote and bobcat climb

open yours eyes, be still

 

There are several other reasons why these two poems cannot be haiku–more than one image and a contrasting image in a single poem–forbidden.  I knew there must be some reason I had never previously seriously attempted haiku.  Too many rules.

 

This one, however, meets modern haiku standards or so I have been told.  I will eventually get this.  Learning, challenging oneself, remains a positive experience.

 

Night

big dipper illuminates

clouds race

darkness suddenly descends

 

IMG_1322

Rain

/ Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

 

 

image

 

 

Early, in that land between wakefulness and dreams, it started to rain.  It rarely rains here in the morning; I thought I was dreaming.  Several hours later it is still raining.  Last night the weather forecaster said we are actually a little ahead of normal for the year, an unheard of event in recent years when endless drought reigned.  Because I am thinking none of  you who read my blog posts will believe it is really raining that much after reading numerous posts about drought, I decided to take some photos of the cloudiness and wet.

 

image

 

image

 

image

 

The following poem was written when it had not rained in a long time like this spring when it had not rained for months.  Now that is has started raining, it cannot seem to stop, certainly a better situation than several months ago when 50 houses in a nearby town burned down because of a giant wildfire.

 

 

 

It’s raining!  It’s raining!

It has not rained in more than a month.

I run out the door,

spreading my arms skyward.

I laugh out loud, dancing in the rain.

A smile smears joyfully across my face.

I run across the patio,

rain drops pelleting my face, my arms.

I laugh out loud, dancing in the rain.

My dog stands, rivulets of rain running off her.

Usually she hates rain.

Lightning explodes, thunder booms bass,

the steel roof plays staccato music.

I laugh out loud, dancing in the rain.

Is my book really that racy??

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Today, my ten year old grandson and I worked at the gift shop at a nearby state park.  We worked the 1-5 afternoon shift.  At first it was quite busy and the main attraction was the Native American made jewelry.  We do show a fabulous collection with some unique pieces.  One woman bought more than 500 dollars worth.  It is difficult to work there in respect to the books and the jewelry–we have a LOT of both.  We are all volunteers, we get a discount but do not get paid.  So much to want!!

Two members of the organization which supports the gift shop have their books on display in the shop for sale.  Over a month ago, I left my most recent book of poetry (see the side bar for the cover and yes, you can buy it from this site or Amazon) for the manager to read.  I have known the manager for years.  In fact he painted (he is an artist as well and Native American himself) the corn plant on my wall next to where I am writing this.  I thought probably since the others sold their books there, I could do the same.  I realized that one of the books is a collection of poetry specifically about Palo Duro Canyon so it “belongs” there.  However, the other one has absolutely nothing to do with the Canyon.  When I saw the manger, I asked him what he thought about the book and the store selling it.  He seemed a bit astounded that I had written it and commented that I certainly had a lot of talent.  He had taken the book home and it was not at the store.  However, when I asked about selling it there, he said he was working on it.  Apparently, and in some ways not totally to my surprise, he is afraid some of the other members would find it too shocking, too racy.  Really?!  Maybe I should have encouraged one of the blurb writers to say something racy, maybe I should advertise differently.  Racy sells more books.

Is there any privacy anymore?

/ Juliana Lightle / 5 Comments

Last month, my book of poetry, On the Rim of Wonder, was published by Uno Mundo Press, a small press in Arizona.  It is available on Amazon, coming on Kindle soon, and signed copies can be ordered from me.  Today I checked to see what happens if I put my name in the Google search, hoping the two books I have authored would show up or at least this blog would. Not only did this blog show up, but my Facebook, Twitter, photos, and much, much more.  Although I am not obsessed much with privacy–I consider myself to be quite the open book sort of person or the proverbial “you get what you see” type, I looked in shock at what I saw on the computer.  I stared in disbelief.

One website, not Google–guess I was too astonished to even remember its name–listed my age, the main road of my address, and showed (no, I am not making this up) an aerial photo of my house.  In a way this latter part seemed a bit funny because recently when I had to call the sheriff’s office (a bullet or rock shattered my passenger side car window on my way to opera practice) and they sent out two deputies, these deputies could not find my house.  They actually called me and told me to meet them at the road because they had no idea where to go.  If it had been something scary serious, something like a robbery, the thieves would have been far away while the deputies wandered up and down the road.  Often when I invite people over who have not been to my house before, they get lost, even with detailed directions. After seeing this personal information on the Internet, I feel relieved that my house is still hard to find.  On some other sites, the information appeared to be either confusing or erroneous–not sure which is worse.  I thought about looking further, but guessed it could only get more alarming.

How do I feel about all this?  What upsets me the most?  For starters, I remain horrified, insulted, and dismayed that my age would be published like that.  Guess that tells all of you something about my sensitivities.  Another concern is safety.  Is it really personally safe to have all this information out there for just anyone to find with so little searching?  Thankfully, I live behind a locked gate and Isabella, my dog, alerts me to anything unusual.  She is big, 80 pounds, and fierce looking–a mix of wolf, German shepherd, and blue heeler.  She can destroy a huge steak bone in as little as fifteen minutes.  Still, all this out there for all to see gives me pause.

 

 

SAM_0340

 

Sacred Corn

/ Juliana Lightle / 4 Comments

SAM_0035   In the summer on hot, humid nights, you can hear the corn grow.  My great grandfather, my grandfather, and my father grew corn.  I grow corn in that same rich loess soil of Northwestern Missouri.  Soil laid down by Ice Age glaciers thousands of year ago.  Only on a few hill tops, here and there, will you find non glacial soil. Repeatedly, daily, I walk by the sacred corn plant of life painted on my hall corner.  This sacred corn corner houses three corn maiden kachinas and a drum decorated with corn maidens.  I give thanks to corn for my house and the life I lead.

Corn Song

I sing the song of ancients:

pueblo peoples,

Anazazi, Hopi, Zuni.

I sing the song of an America long gone.

Maya, Aztec, Tolmec.

I sing the song of life:  colors of the rainbow

golden, red, white, blue.

I sing the song of now:  thick, endless

identical rows.

Pioneer, Monsanto,

anhydrous ammonia,

atrazine.

I sing the song of hope and joy:

an ancient reclaiming,

a klaidescope of colors,

butterflies and fireflies.

I sing the eternal human song.

SAM_0913

SAM_1489

This is a Navaho kachina.  Kachina are actually Hopi, but Navaho artists now make kachinas as well.  The first corn maiden kachina I bought.

SAM_1490

Spotted corn kachinas, on the left, are unusual.  It took me years to find one.  The kachina on the right was created by R Pino, who is both Hopi and Navaho.

SAM_1491

Every year Pendleton runs an art contest among Native American students.  The winner’s art work is transformed into saddle blankets.  This design, created by Mary Beth Jiron, is the latest in this Student Series. There are three corn  maidens  on each side of the blanket, representing the different varieties of corn grown by native peoples, yellow, red, blue, white, black, and spotted.

2012 in review

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 2,800 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 5 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

I started this blog 11 months ago.  I want to thank all my followers, commenters, and friends who follow me via WordPress, Facebook, etc.  for making this a success.  Thank you and Happy New Year.  May this new year bring joy and prosperity to all of you.

Aging

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

“Rage, Rage, against the dying of the light.”  Dylan Thomas

Custom says, “Age gracefully.”

Are they crazy, dumb!

Who wants to look

old

wrinkled

grey?

They lie!

All of them.

Who wants a broken mind

confused

unfocused

lost?

Shoot me!

Burn my bones.

Scatter them

in the desert sands

to feed

desert willow where

rattlesnakes lie

searching for shade.

True Love

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

“True Love.  Is it normal…?”

Wislawa Szymborska

 

 

Who gets it?

Does it descend

like lightning

striking

only the lucky?

Is it a curse,

a blessing,

a gift?

Me, I’m clueless.

I think perhaps my parents had it.

I don’t.

Never had

or did I miss it,

the strike

the blinding?

Lust I understand.

True Love??