Friday, June 01, 2018

May Senryū 2018

May Senryū 2018
for those time-blessed among the stars her gaze raised to meet | his swell of feelings years stored | a tsunami
laid out in rows | the sardines she craved | in her phases to full moon
how it continues | so much pain in the world | the far side of love
tall sword ferns breakthrough nightmares | sharp green tongues confused | tangled foliage
saw his hidden heart | in photographs of places | he sent across time tries to heal deep wounds | from younghood days lost | time does not fly mackerel bellied clouds | etched across blue sky| welcomes salmon sunset a soothing place | misty and watercolored | no constant talkers here to preserve our being | we leave legacies | share words on paper | the beauty our minds paint | our heart-minds take flight in song
calm appeals | for reasonableness | for compassion | instead of hate and anger | instead of fiery life
you can read my mind | the same flesh and blood | your dna in my heart memories linger | your butterfly touches | there’s no shame in love in acts of kindness | she seeks collaboration | small changes matter
for the time being | she lights a candle | for someone who understands
the pain of her own | heartbreak for a world | slow turtle changes for good
your inbox empty | there’s not even any spam | you have been ghosted
critical image | a dragon wing of water | sweeping away life
you cannot capture | water is like our image | it knows escape routes
doomed to extinction | now cannot be framed | we’re all escaped images
even this moment | time passes to the past quick | now always exits we blur and distort | to preserve a moment passed | an image captured
at your mansplain quack quack quack | she thinks of water | rolling off duck's back
milky cataracts | flowers of emptiness | oil on water
bella flor | vida arrancada | lagrimas negras
we are the distilled | tears of ancestors turned clouds | skies become clear lakes
your email | bad flew out | like from that infamous box | I shouldn’t have opened up | the past is of a past me
we simply flow | through the impermanence | leaves on the river
futile arguments | shed more heat than light | we listen to heal | our broken hearts must be heard | with compassion and justice
you kill in the name of God | say you are chosen | must be the vengeful one | to mow down innocents | as if they were not human
explanations | secrets are like moths to light | no excuses
blackbirds take a break | mockingbirds new messengers | with all their chitter
you treat them badly | as if their lives don't matter | why should they care | work is not just money | it's about making change
in the line of time | there's no going back | she prefers the circle Copyright © 2018 Odilia Galván Rodríguez. All Rights Reserved.

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