Wednesday, March 7, 2012

"The Place" (haibun)

Written in response to prompt #96 from We Write Poems: haibun.
(The following is actually a new take on something I wrote earlier.)


~ The Place ~

I find that people do not understand me.  They call me a city gal, they think I’m tough.  I was born in a city, but I grew up in a ‘place.’  It had tall buildings, and broad streets, and an ice skating rink, and a large hill with a winding river running below.  In winter the hill became a long, steep slide and we would whee! all the way down with bottoms glued to pieces of cardboard.  In summer the hill was covered in the sunburst of dandelions that made me – a kid with allergies – both happy and miserable.  The place had an archway, and a sharp turn to the right, that led to a door.  And behind that door it kept voices and memories, scents and sounds, touches and tastes, and reality laced with dreams...  And that’s where it keeps me now, while a ghost of me wanders elsewhere.

At the end of light
An invisible hand guides
The sheepish clouds home.



Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur

26 comments:

  1. Sheepish clouds being guided home by an invisible hand. Nice image! I like this very much. The idea of the now and the memories, and the ghost of the narrator wandering elsewhere. I like what you did with this form.

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    1. Thank you, Nan. I had "The Place" already, and when I read about haibun, I thought about that piece, so I just added a haiku to it. I'm happy you liked it.

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  2. Idyllic. Sheepish clouds: in French, clouds are sometimes known as "les blancs moutons" - the white sheep! I love your sign-off line: "Live for the Love of it." I shall try very hard to follow your advice.

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  3. You're right. Wherever it is, it's that little place that is yours.

    (mine is passworded, but it's "submit")

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    1. Glad we think alike, Barbara :-)
      Off to read yours!

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  4. Really enjoyed this, I remember reading the earlier piece as well. This version fits the form very well. Good stuff.

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  5. As a former goatherd and shepherd, I am enamored of the invisible hand guiding the sheepish clouds. Thank you for letting me visit this place.

    Haibun: Nature’s Songs

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    1. Thank you very much for visiting, and for your comment (I hope you didn't have to go through the word verification - it should be disabled now - if there's any problems, please let me know.) Thanks again!

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  6. Oh, I just adore puffy little sheep. My grandparents had tenants who raised sheep and I thought that their baby lambs were the sweetest animals in the whole world... thank you for the memory! Hen

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  7. I like the contrast and union of place in this. You've brought them together in your writing and yourself. Very nice.

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    1. Thank you, Yousei! I was happy to add a haiku: I think it kind of "tied the writing together."

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  8. Outstanding poem, Hap. The sheepish clouds tell it all.

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  9. beautiful...thank you for you heartfelt comment on my post. you lifted my spirits:-)

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    1. You lifted mine, Laura. And, my goodness, on top of all the talents you have - you sing, too!
      Thank you.

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  10. Very well done. I particularly like the picture of your childhood home/hills painted by the prose.

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  11. I enjoyed reading your words very much...thanks for sharing

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  12. how exquisite a picture in the mind of the storyteller.... i can't help but to consider are we all wanderers..

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    1. Thank you very much. Yes, I believe we all are.

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  13. Love your "tall, broad, large, long...and your sheepish clouds," very nicely done, Happy-Sasha!

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