more 'ku train senryu _ _ ....

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ....


drift

swept away on air
in the blueness of water
currents of future

blend

harmonious
a desired combination ~
our soulful mix


raspberries

reddish-pink drupelets
whose juice colors crimson mouths
edible jewels


slip

in search of something
there on tips of tongues ~
concealed in sudden gestures


delicate

flower petal wings
tiny baby wrapped in veils
of the other side

waterfall

cascade of brilliance
a full mind spilling over
earth's cool jade water


happy

in the company
of good spirits smiling on
from seventh heaven


dim

the light when sun dies
how future looks in a rear view
mirrored fractals


sideways

along the axis
no ruffling of feathers
obliquely shadowed


buffet

rough winds buffeted
the ocean tries eating sand
swirls up the coastline


slither

slippin' and slidin'
slippery snake writhin'
stealthily up the path


burst

at the seams with joy
jump up at the newborn sun
run the streets happy


ledge

rocks beneath green seas
near shores adoring water
azure with pleasure


shark

shark man swam the seas
searching for his salvation
he was a new breed

half-man half fierce great white shark
seeking peace with all creatures


fine

pair of silk stockings
hung seductively over |
a fine screen cover

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ...

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ...

butte

lava pinnacles
cap rock rough enough to stand
steady these landforms


tempest

skies opened their eyes
let loose a good hard cry
winds joined in - howling


frog song

nocturnal sirens
waking the neighborhood
wailing songs of love


sparrow

old world weaver bird
o waxbill ~ o java
knit a world in a nest


cloudburst

a sudden shock of rain
storm violently crashing
water down on earth


curiosity

what killed the cat
being in others' business
while not being asked

loyalty

we pledge allegiance
to flags that have stopped flying
o'er reality

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ..

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ..


train

things were not the same
she boarded a slow train south
trying to find home


drift

consciousness shifted
to peripheral vision
momentarily

current

dipped in stardust
daredevils catch downdrafts
flown on the wind's wings


peacock

all window dressing
the male peafowls strut their stuff
females, they aren't fools


hedge

she shielded herself
from cold, the know it all's
right into loneliness


temper

tempered by heat
walking mean streets for a living
softened by real love

jewelry [box]


pearl moons from the sea
trinkets spilling over in waves
her remembrances

soften

sun the color of butter
melting through curtains
contagious the smiles

magnanimity

heart like a whorehouse
always open and inviting
a grand soul


luck(y)

a penny or kiss
shamrocks never fail
to turn us hopeful


hover

levitate or loiter
but don't stand too close to me
hang around awhile

fabric

those red stars in galaxies
far beyond rainbows
are my ancestors

more 'ku train senryu _ _.

more 'ku train senryu _ _ .

(✿◕‿◕)compromise


meet me halfway
one side touches the other
in a fond embrace


submerged


descended below
her surface polished perfect
the unseen grimace

burrow


rich red-brown the earth
hollowed out by sweet sound
flowers are born singing

farther


end of the clearing
furthest reaches of your town
turns blind in some eyes

flaw


diamonds in the raw
flaws thawing into shining
light through thick forest


fulfilled


thrilled with outcomes
cups half-full to overflowing
everything's roses

cardioid

we are two hearts
circling like red-tailed hawks
wanting love for life

orange


leathery-leaved evergreen
trees bear sunny fruits
filled with ambrosia


lull


breathing room
a space to be alone
pausing for clarity

chill


chilled to the marrow
bone cold and ready to fly
south winds wintering

heard


listening past tense
hearing beyond the obvious
between the lines

drip

en una gota
reflejos de corazon
el mundo gira
in a drop
shadowed heart's reflection
a world turning


spring [water]


a fount bursts brilliant
crystalline jeweled water
heady to give life

ruddy


ruddy morning light
earth throwing off night's blanket
birthing a new day

old wooden fence - really?

faded, forgotten
fallen into disrepair
the line between us

Poem 4 - Parallel Universes

the rouge of camellias
their cinnamon scented faces
upturned towards the light
our synchronous vibrations
are reflected in this wholeness
where we are but a stitch
in the fine mesh of creation’s web



in a parallel universe
you and I have danced
this back and forth before
we have taken our love far
in all directions
as far as it will go
at once and never



again is often better
because by then the rough edges
of youth have been burnished
bright and hence are smoothed
like the crags of ancient
mountains ground down
by four winds



the plague of humanness is
striving for someone else's
idea of perfection
or never seeing the need
to become better

humans
every day
our faces turned
towards the light




© Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010

Poem 3 - Dreams Unfurled

dreams
unfurled
luminescent
flags
waving
in surrender
to the night
or
is it really day
there’s no way
of knowing
what is folded
into dreams
what is this state
we call being
awake
when we take
hold of the string of our kite
and fly
our dreams right
with purpose
and direction
envisioned
our reality
whether
we walk
in a dream
or are awake
is softened
molten red
lakes of fire
are crossed
just as sure
as the calm
azure ones are
it’s a matter of
your stars
your wires
crossed or
untied
are you
smoothed feathered
or caught up
in what you fear
believe
time melts
into cracks
or moments
become
eternities
journeys
with return
tickets
canceled or
postponed



©Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010


Dockside Dreams
a painting by Walfrido Garcia

Poem 2 - of love and crows

indigo crows
follow her
from the Bay Area
to Bakersfield
cawing messages
or warnings
maybe both
they sit high
in the trees
smiling
at her naiveté
her insistence
on being in love
with love


he says love
is about convenience
she says it's about hope
and believing in life
because love is
in everything living
from the moment
they are infused with light
and even when living
is rife with problems
love has a way
of easing the burdens


crows change shapes
keep close to sky
make believe
they aren't talking
to her
when clearly they are
she greets them now
smiles up at them
perched in their green canopies
and tries to understand
their messages of love
and the medicine
they came to share




©Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010

A Poem A Day for National Poetry Month - Poem 1

mujeres de maíz



somos mujeres de maíz
nacimos de semillas
de todos los colores
de lluvias de fuerte amor
de polen, color de sol
brotamos de nuestra tierra
madre roja, como la sangre,
tallos verde-amarillos
tiernas como toda vida
nueva y sin experiencia
somos mujeres de maíz
de raíces profundas
anclados a los ancestros
con zarcillos iluminados
nos transmitan las historias
y la misión de nuestra gente
de proteger la creación
porque somos solo una
pequeña parte de nuestro
gran universo estrellado


women of corn

we are women of corn
seeds born
of all colors
from rains that come
from strong love
from pollen, the color of sunshine
sprung from our land
our mother red as blood,
yellow-green stems
tender as all life
new and inexperienced
we are women of corn
deep-rooted
anchored to the ancestors
from illuminated tendrils
they transmit stories
the mission of our people
to protect the creation
because we are only
but a small part of our
great starry universe




©Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010



note: this is a quick translation from
Spanish to English - needs editing...

I have been in California for about three weeks now.
I feel as though I never left and that so much is new
all at the same time. I was sick for one of these weeks
which gave me some time to just be still for a minute.
Here so many have what I call the, "crazy ant syndrome" or
CAS - have to be moving in many directions all at once. I'm
always vigilant regarding this dis-ease because once
upon a time it had me in its grips and the only way
I was able to escape it was to have a complete melt
down. Melt downs are a hard way to change your life
or to stop being a crazy ant. I choose to take more
or less control of my life so as not to get back into
that lifestyle which is so easy to fall into here in the
States.

The best part of this homecoming has been spending quality
time with my son Hawk. We've done some cooking together -
over the phone, if you can imagine that. Yes, while I was
recovering from the dreaded crunk (the flu) he called me up
to ask how to make black beans, white rice and picadillo. The
whole experience was so much fun and very sweet. I gave him a
list of the ingredients for each dish, we discussed amounts and
even in what order they should be prepared. Once he had it all
written down, he went shopping for the ingredients he was lacking
and then got back to his apartment and started cooking. He
called a few times during the process to check out one detail or
another. His questions were always good ones. My housemate Dee Dee
would exclaim, "That is so sweet!" every time the phone would ring and
it would be Hawk with another question or update. The dinner turned out
so yummy that he put up a picture of his served plate on his facebook page.

Sometimes we must turn off the phone, the internet, the TV or whatever other
external objects keep us from ourselves, from giving us the space to just
be quiet and go within. Introspection is a great thing and helps alleviate
CAS lol! So I will be doing more yoga classes and less of the things that
keep me too occupied to enjoy a cooking session with my son, even if it did
have to be by phone because I was ill.

ﾚo√乇♥ﾚo√乇♥ﾚo√乇♥ yourself and others!

peace!

Thaw by Fiona Robyn

Ruth's diary is the new novel by Fiona Robyn, called Thaw. She has decided to blog the novel in its entirety over the next few months, so you can read it for free.

Ruth's first entry is below, and you can continue reading tomorrow here.

*

These hands are ninety-three years old. They belong to Charlotte Marie Bradley Miller. She was so frail that her grand-daughter had to carry her onto the set to take this photo. It’s a close-up. Her emaciated arms emerge from the top corners of the photo and the background is black, maybe velvet, as if we’re being protected from seeing the strings. One wrist rests on the other, and her fingers hang loose, close together, a pair of folded wings. And you can see her insides.

The bones of her knuckles bulge out of the skin, which sags like plastic that has melted in the sun and is dripping off her, wrinkling and folding. Her veins look as though they’re stuck to the outside of her hands. They’re a colour that’s difficult to describe: blue, but also silver, green; her blood runs through them, close to the surface. The book says she died shortly after they took this picture. Did she even get to see it? Maybe it was the last beautiful thing she left in the world.

I’m trying to decide whether or not I want to carry on living. I’m giving myself three months of this journal to decide. You might think that sounds melodramatic, but I don’t think I’m alone in wondering whether it’s all worth it. I’ve seen the look in people’s eyes. Stiff suits travelling to work, morning after morning, on the cramped and humid tube. Tarted-up girls and gangs of boys reeking of aftershave, reeling on the pavements on a Friday night, trying to mop up the dreariness of their week with one desperate, fake-happy night. I’ve heard the weary grief in my dad’s voice.

So where do I start with all this? What do you want to know about me? I’m Ruth White, thirty-two years old, going on a hundred. I live alone with no boyfriend and no cat in a tiny flat in central London. In fact, I had a non-relationship with a man at work, Dan, for seven years. I’m sitting in my bedroom-cum-living room right now, looking up every so often at the thin rain slanting across a flat grey sky. I work in a city hospital lab as a microbiologist. My dad is an accountant and lives with his sensible second wife Julie, in a sensible second home. Mother finished dying when I was fourteen, three years after her first diagnosis. What else? What else is there?

Charlotte Marie Bradley Miller. I looked at her hands for twelve minutes. It was odd describing what I was seeing in words. Usually the picture just sits inside my head and I swish it around like tasting wine. I have huge books all over my flat; books you have to take in both hands to lift. I’ve had the photo habit for years. Mother bought me my first book, black and white landscapes by Ansel Adams. When she got really ill, I used to take it to bed with me and look at it for hours, concentrating on the huge trees, the still water, the never-ending skies. I suppose it helped me think about something other than what was happening. I learned to focus on one photo at a time rather than flicking from scene to scene in search of something to hold me. If I concentrate, then everything stands still. Although I use them to escape the world, I also think they bring me closer to it. I’ve still got that book. When I take it out, I handle the pages as though they might flake into dust.

Mother used to write a journal. When I was small, I sat by her bed in the early mornings on a hard chair and looked at her face as her pen spat out sentences in short bursts. I imagined what she might have been writing about; princesses dressed in star-patterned silk, talking horses, adventures with pirates. More likely she was writing about what she was going to cook for dinner and how irritating Dad’s snoring was.

I’ve always wanted to write my own journal, and this is my chance. Maybe my last chance. The idea is that every night for three months, I’ll take one of these heavy sheets of pure white paper, rough under my fingertips, and fill it up on both sides. If my suicide note is nearly a hundred pages long, then no-one can accuse me of not thinking it through. No-one can say; ‘It makes no sense; she was a polite, cheerful girl, had everything to live for’, before adding that I did keep myself to myself. It’ll all be here. I’m using a silver fountain pen with purple ink. A bit flamboyant for me, I know. I need these idiosyncratic rituals; they hold things in place. Like the way I make tea, squeezing the tea-bag three times, the exact amount of milk, seven stirs. My writing is small and neat; I’m striping the paper. I’m near the bottom of the page now. Only ninety-one more days to go before I’m allowed to make my decision. That’s it for today. It’s begun.

Continue reading tomorrow here...

I may have made this up [again]

I may have made this up [again]

1

the earth quaked
yesterday in the Bay Area
as manatees and sea turtles huddled
in the southeast as never before seen
cold, chilling as tundras
beginning their descent
into meltwater jettisons,
seized a tropical paradise

and what of the great MisiZiibi
will it die along with most of its fish?


a voice from out of the blue...

but that's all
blim blam flim flam
o ms. hotty toddy
you can't believe
anything you hear
about anything
to do with weather
or anything about
anything
for that matter


2

boy looks up at the ball ring
while rulers stare down
from the stands
he's watching them
watching him
the game
he bumps with purpled hips
as he slips and shifts the ball
his destiny
the crowd prays loudly
for the winners and losers
thinking of that saying about
how losing you win
here winning, you lose too

3

flamboyant tree
seeding the wind sounds
roots the sticky threads
that bind us

chipped or stained
or waylaid
imperfectly perfect those
mistakes right themselves
in the river of spirit lines

old gardens look better from afar
their newly fallen pods percolate
with promise of new life
there are so many hues
from brown the color
of roasted coffee beans
to terracotta the copper
color of your skin

4

we refuse to be ant food
we rattle and shake
make the sign
of protection
of the four directions
imbed it skin deep
while thinking
O anthros
O linguistic mystics
you still trying to decipher
the wind?

relinchan pero
siempre son cerebros
hinchados, la mayoria
malcriados

pay with a coin toss
from the 1960's
that's just hitting
ground n ow
came
spiraling
down
from
the
Himalayas
just hours ago.


©/s Apaxicana, 2010





notes: 1. MisiZiibi is the Anishnabe or Ojibwe name for the Mississippi river.
2. ball ring refers to the ring that the ball had to be hit into in the Mayan Ballgame which had ritual aspects - for more info. see: http://www.ballgame.org/main.asp http://www.authenticmaya.com/ball_game.htm

essence of survival

ancestors
greening
the gray
mixing light
rain transformation
our creation
continuous
survival
our age spots
proof tattoos
of our out lasting the
death wishes
and life's blizzards
like contractable diseases
cyclones
earthquakes
famines
floods, the landslides
electrical storms
tornadoes
tsunamis
volcanic eruptions
wildfires and bushfires
and other natural disasters
even our own young and dumb
stupidity when we thought
we were invincible
still
we've rivaled destruction
worked at constructing
within the mezcla
with our egungun
the old reinventing
themselves
new within us
their wise eyes rising
from the red-brown
southern soil
color of hearts
buried there and
Ogun's breath helped us
plant the possibilities
blessing the mess
of collisions
of cultures
of the enemy within
challenging us to
destroy or create we
waited for the moon
to loom brighter
to spark omens
relay codes or show us
roads with new doors
or guide precision in our
decisions our thinking but
it was a vision
that saved us
from extinction
ancestors
reached out and
gifted us
the distinction
of their glyphs
their palabras
codices brimming
with power
showered us with
corn pollen knowledge
answers
if we chose to
listen


© Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010











note: glyph 1=corn, glyph 2=flower, glyph 3=essence.

the distance of love

her mouth
a wound
vermilion
a fire
smothered
by miles, years,
distances and
dreams
deferred
desires
stirred
by words
and images
when she heard
him
say her name
enough times to make her
want to come to him and
then will they stand
faces turned in
the north wind
chanting their sin
of not having
believed enough
in love
in the back when



©Odilia Galván Rodríguez, 2010
febrero, Merida Yucatan

more 'ku train senryu _ _

more 'ku train senryu _ _

confusion

head-scratching jumble
a tumble from sky lights
jackknifing earthward


simmer

wear simmer perfume
boil and bubble your trouble
or just let it go


reason

she lost her marbles
trying to motivate him
but he just went home


suspense

sold, on tenterhooks
she looks past the glass to eyes
waiting to meet hers


haze

conglomeration
of taking in/on the pain
my state of being


plumage

lightly feathered fluff
a boa constricting views
from the naked eye


temper

she improves hardness
by mixing in compassion~
by releasing hate

she knows hers have survived
and heart cannot be taken


annoyance

ordinary angst
the stuff of everyday
that gets in our way


opposition

open resistance
going the distance holding
to your beliefs


admiration

with so much regard
esteemed beyond belief
more brilliant than moonlight


frond

her hair, wayward fronds
a mix of two do genres ~
mohawk and dreadlock


remorse

deep as debt ~ remorse
a hole hard to dig out of
not really worth much


plate/dish

broken crockery
signaled the end of their union
and shattered dreams


dismal

down in the mouf
it can only get better
if you want it to


© 2010 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

innocents

she wanted them

never to have

read Anaïs Nin

never to have

been touched

by such things

but they had

read and done

so much more

than she had

ever done

at their age

they were no innocents



copyright © 2010 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu _ ....

more 'ku train senryu _ ....


kindling

kindling new fires
walking high wired fences
defensive of love


scarf

a ribbon of wind
tightly wound around her neck
kept out the cold


foam

frothy, flaming hot
clouds sitting atop coffee
puffy and pillowed


gyrate

she pirouettes/
politely parting sound waves/
O whirling dervish


better

relativity|
motion my light in time space|
brights' velocity|


sprout

a shoot of verdant
green peeking out from snowdrift
a shard of summer


light blue

how blue can you get |
imagining grass greener |
on the other side


codex

no chip off the old |
wood blocks split, to leaves turning |
maps of myth makers


early

I've never been
a bird who gets the worm |
wound to my own clock


more

what to do with less
when more is so appealing |
on long rainy days


relief

caved into bent bones
walls of shaken loose buildings
waiting to rise again


overcast

overshadowed
legacies of ancestral pain
a prevailing wind


simple

a teardrop rainfall
deserts remember my name
the unseen water



© 2010 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu _ _ ...

more 'ku train senryu _ ...

shoe/s

clicks ruby heels twice
walks into the silence between
cold drops of rain

forest

life is what you smell
in green air amongst small trees
shadowing newness

gamble

marriage ~ mirage sale
mid-life crisis, vehicles/
plastic surgery

voracious

carnivorous flower
with its voracious petals
and lethal honey

current

surfing low tides ~ tripped
by moon rising in the mist/
you - sorely missed

descent

deep eyes
I've dived into them before/
like the sky ♥

crescent

the moon barely
showing its pearly smile
a toe hold for god

cradle

baby's cradle board
all shiny beaded, brand new /
soon morphs to skateboard

home

a well worn heart
with wall to wall happiness
visitors welcome


soul

my sun is your moon
once we were in mad mad love
our souls sung one song


wind

my skirts are oceans
my breath the four winds blowing/
my heart, shining moon


winter

winter white with wet
cold seeping through floorboards and doors
dreamers of Spring

hooked

nervous fish look/
oh limp baloney on a hook-
crookedly smiling

sauce

barbecue, grilled in
ambrosia burnt sienna
secret's in the sauce


restore

reconfigured
put yourself back together
gathering clouds


splendor

candor from red lips
splendor in high prairie grass
greening the brown earth


eagle

eagles vision long
into the future to pull
the present forward

evident

she sees with her heart
eyes can be so deceiving |
revealing it all

codex/codices

I plagiarize myself
tattoo all obsessions
blue-black codices

on my most delicate parts
dark flowers bleeding pages

gesture

give me a signal
a smooth hand ~ in a mudra
move in for the kiss

snow

white birds huddled
at the edge of azure ponds
embracing south winds


© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu _ ..

more 'ku train senryu _..


cold

South Dakota snow
falls in October so cold
before tricks or treats


visit

never a blister
or outta control twister
baby's visitin'


onion

pealing back layers
thinning the skin to thicken
a swelling heart


ground

cold hard winter ground
waiting for a Spring thaw/
flowers slumbering


bell

a ringing in ears
sound of bullet's ricochet
a long distance call


marble

round, a world in glass
shot from a thumb and finger
upsetting planets


frontier

a final frontier
inside minds eye, rolling back
where it all began


slow

Autumn easy
sunshine when it gives a damn
winter's waiting with wings


crinkle

wrinkles sprinkled
are nature's way of sayin'
this time, a worn face


comfort

luscious touch
fingers, hands, arms and lips
twists hurt into love


© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu _ .

more 'ku train senryu _ .


mesa

Table Mesa
the ancestors red earth home
where blind eyes can see


boat

my ship sailed empty
of spoils of war or larceny
floating free


moist

eyes fill with rivers
overflowing edges~burst
emotional dam


feeder

birds get spoiled
thinking they're domesticated
won't fend for themselves


sugar cane

bent and stooped backs
cutting caña since near dawn
for the world's sweet tooths


fall

falling in love
up/down free falling ~ heart first |
thirsting for someone


gravy

wavy gravy
in a boat bound for chicken
slapped on someones hips


still
still making moonshine
in backwater towns nightly
rounding out the tides


snap

twigs and bones
wringing of hands, popping of stones
a magic motion


swamp

in the way back
patiently picking their teeth
alligators wait


away

too far to be home
nearer to being foreign
words my mother tongue


never

never say never
as soon as you do > never
takes a bite of you

it's like forever
a long way to say > maybe
so don't count on it


turquoise

turquoise sky, blurry
clouds colliding in the blue
not sure about rain


sway

stomp, turn, swish and sway
dancing can be dangerous
calling in the day


circus

divine clowns dancing
bring the future forward
by chanting in reverse


© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu _

more 'ku train senryu _


back

the backs of big cats
are the best part to spy
their smiles, too awesome


whimsy

your eyebrows curved bird's
wings that lilt with your smiling/
songs of yesterday


bell

Pavlov's dog wasn't
but bells always signal/
singing for supper


next

medianoche
betwixt and in between night's
yesterday/tomorrow


plum

ripe purple oval
desirable attainment ~ fruit
shot off tops of heads


heat

temperature rises
in the heat of anger
cool heads are better


horizon

your eyes rise above
lines drawn in the sands of time
my horizons pale


switch

switch back the train
time flowing forward - back again
there's blood on the tracks


later

in a minute
which means never or maybe
is a better good-bye


wash

a wash day
is a good way to let out stress
ring out clothes, not necks


canopy

sky her only canopy
she lived free like gypsies
and birds that fly south


locket

his and her smiles
captured inside silver
a loaded locket


past

lo que paso, paso
what's done, is done - no fun
doing it again


prestige

stature can crumble
under like statues weather
worn badges do rust


leftovers

green peas in the rice
fresh food is overrated
make mine warmed over



© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu ....

more 'ku train senryu ....


passage

moving past the lock
safe journeying destiny
a skeleton key


dark

dark hugging the light
reminding us there's two sides
two rights make a wrong

turn into the bright ~ nightlight
illuminating the hall


fast

a fast from loving
you who I loved so well
it's hell being apart


chill

days took on a pall
even the merciless heat
beating down doors

to get away from itself
heat so hot, it gives chills


slight

small in its shadow
far reaches of opacity
visioning light


sea oats

tender remembering
sea oats swaying the shore
prehistoric grass


well

well wishing isn't
a wishing well full of cents ~
cementing futures


sight

seeing isn't sight
a look behind obvious
around shadows edge


pale

moon's pale face staring
down from between ancient trees
at lovers entwined


© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu ...

more 'ku train senryu ...


sway

moon makes her skirts sway
at night her waves reach the sky
dancing away doubt


green glass

I see you through glass
emerald green as ocean
conjuring you back

pink

wide open and new
baby mouths looking for food
pinking as they bloom

recent

too soon to be June
again the clock tries to tick
kickstand always stuck

boom

unruly champagne
corks gone off half-popped ~ missing
party started late


cruel

gravity and time/
rhymes that don't know what's missing/
fools schooling the blind


small

small soliloquy
a rosebud wrapped up tightly
awaiting cloudburst

sealed

sealed and signed tied to
dealings unseen ~ tomorrows
now read the fine print

large

round and lovely thighs
thunder type ~ that could crush buildings
in a single bounce


early

Coyote arrived
early for the bar-b-q/
it was yesterday



© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu ..

more 'ku train senryu ..



Grendel

monsters don't scare me/
one little tiny bit/
shoot 'em dead in the eyes


shoes

orthopedic flip flops
mine were always two-toned
saddled with long miles



truck

take a no wheel drive
hoofin it, better for me ~
the environment



echo

an echo carries
your name on its lips etching
out sides of mountains



sparkle

his soul sparkled
through deep azabache eyes
in a moonless night



zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

sleep keeps me awake
I fake dream by smiling wide
wishing on a sheep



shade

shadows change the shape/
of things to come flying in/
shapeshifting color



gray

gray skies opened up
dumped water in ropes on streets
people danced in them



swim

swimming in pearl light
dreaming of sea otters
smiling at the moon



patience

I can wait until
stars fold themselves into sky
then, you're mine again



glint

flashes reflected
eyes angry at the full moon
spilling promises



handle

your eyes like shadows
lurking lost behind dark/
glasses that hide beauty

your eyes a beacon
a way to the future past/
present ~ a holding

handles help steady
ones way in the pitch darkness/
opening the way





© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

more 'ku train senryu .

more 'ku train senryu .


browse

aroused by the scene
prowling bowling alleys
looking for a good throw


thwart

foiled again, folded
in like an accordion
now ~ all bellowed out


pig

reverse zoonosis ~
human flu to swine instead
the other way 'round


rock garden
in my rock garden
stones tell creation stories
the sky meets the earth


quick

quicksilver quivers
and the alchemist dithers
to be or not to


method

my madness modern
but I don't buy prefab fear
the tale wagging dogs

dart

arrows ~ love and hate
stupid cupid don't aim straight
I'll take some respect

dragonfly

shimmering wings
on a blue dragon faerie ~ quick
make a righteous wish


gift

dark eyes on the prize
the moment you arrived
swooshing into the world




© 2009 Odilia Galván Rodríguez

Thaw!

Fiona Robyn is going to blog her next novel, Thaw, starting on the 1^st of March next year. The novel follows 32 year old Ruth’s diary over three months as she decides whether or not to carry on living.

To help spread the word she’s organizing a Blogsplash, where blogs will publish the first page of Ruth’s diary simultaneously (and a link to the blog).

She’s aiming to get 1000 blogs involved – if you’d be interested in joining in, email her at fiona@fionarobyn.com or find out more information at http://www.fionarobyn.com/thawblogsplash.htm.

Thanks Much!

Odilia