The Pioneer Woman

Today is Haibun Monday. The subject is recipes, a short prose paragraph with a haiku following. If you wish to read more of these, please visit  dversepoets.com

Are you familiar with the TV cooking show "The Pioneer Woman"?  Ree Drummond's routine consists of cooking and serving up comfort food for her hardworking husband, four kids and friends. She manages to finesse easily a several course meal while sharing tales of daily life on their large cattle ranch in Oklahoma. She loves to cook a big cowboy meal and take it out to the group putting in a hard day's work. Imagine huge breakfast burritos filled with sausage, cheese, eggs, hash browns, topped with roasted tomatoes and jalapeno chilies, or mouthwatering fat bacon meatball sliders with barbecue sauce. She may make their favorite spicy ribs and beans dish, lemon blackberry bars, or cheese-chive muffins, even prepare watermelon granitas for refreshment. After preparing in her kitchen, she wraps the meals in foil and places food in convenient containers in a box. Along with the dog and food in the van, she drives out to the feed barn, a green pasture, or the large black, charred area of land burned the season before. It is her life's joy to plow her way through life in this manner. Her reward is not just the smiles, but often gorgeous sunsets on the way home, sometimes making her late to kids' activities.

Overflowing ponds,

abundant rains in the spring,

marinated blessings

Bridges lead the way..

First frost on the covered bridge keeps us from traveling far - our trousers stiff already, noses reddened by sharp cold air. A blanket of snow on its roof waits for warmer temperatures to melt it and long icicles hanging from eaves.  I snap a photo as I cross, for what could be a long time, making a pretty postcard scene to paint and send. Decorated with sleigh bells and lights for the holidays, I reset my memories.  Not a bridge to nowhere, but to the unknown, to a future life, travels beyond adolescence.

I recall the river rising, flowers blooming, and being with friends all day at the bridge. I imagine horse-driven wagons, cattle, people parading across the bridge since before the turn of the century. Hazy summers we floated down the river, gliding under it, emerging from its shadowy earthen underside to a sunnier other side.  When fifty mph winds blew through the tunneled building, it was hard to stand up straight inside, especially  when  young lovers would meet there in the middle of the day, sneak a kiss or leave initials carved on a board.

The young do not see the passage of time in the bridge's fading beauty, only decay. Anytime a welcome sight, the old covered bridge yawns as we go along the road on our way.

Life never will be
the same; many dreams born there -
fish jumping all day


dversepoets.com



We are writing about bridges today in the haibun form, a short tale ending with a haiku.

Apocalypse of living

   This is a haibun for the first Monday of each month, a short story with haiku to follow. I like doing these. You might want to read others' submissions over at http://dversepoets.com/2016/02/01/haibun-monday-6/ where Gabriela has presented several photos to choose from to base our haibuns on.

Torrential rainstorms slap the earth. Thunder clouds fine tune their instruments: blaring tubas, cymbals crashing, rolling drums. Orchestral chords rise and fall; string instruments echo melancholia. We see an extended dimension of rain mirrored in the skyscraper's broad gigantic window of a wall. It shimmers with the reflection of wet pavement and street lights, providing a vivid light show.

Nowhere to cling, forlorn gulls seek protection, as do we when a calm sea becomes a loud roar, a call to awaken from a stupor. Our travels in and out of fear are like gusts of wind spent. We rebuke the storms, but move quickly to fiercely fight for retrieval of a spirit breached. The weather forecast is uncertain.

Holding onto ropes of hopes for smooth sailing again, we curse the unplanned, unpredictable and movable war zone. We battle raging storms within us again and again. Life is Topsy-turvy, and as the weather changes, we compose and rewrite the original score. 

The musical storm changes - The Overture of The War of 1812 into an orchid soft Hawaiian love song. Tides obey the pull from the moon. For a time, we hear a concerto to waltz to, when clear blue skies are reflected from the huge  video screen. Each time the game of weather changes, we nery miss a beat. Like a game of pickup sticks we hone our response. Perseverance reigns as, on the enormous monitor, we watch the show play out. 

Our spirit innate
leads us with courage again 
to sing with the birds

lune portals..

Over at

dversepoets.com today Sam Peralta leads us in embracing the American haiku form, lunes, either the 5-3-5 syllabic variation or the 3-5-3 word lune;  mine is still another variation, a 5-3-5 word form..

January's moon tips gibbous,
draws longer shadows,
brightens cream colored stepping stones.

February's lunar storms heat up
with timeless love
melting hearts and warming bodies

March's moonlight lends passionate edge
April's moon pines
exposing cascading flowers in May

Butterflies swarm in June's lunar
light, spreading 
wider as summer moves on

July and August moons beckon, 
highlighting the Irish moss,
skirt and skip between branches.

Rustles in wind signal September
her moon sets
on wedding nuptials and vows

October's and November's hunting and harvest moons send ardor through men's veins,

yet they venture not far from home and hearth.

December's moon is your smile

caressing my cheek, for a calendar complete,

God's personal design for my lunar cycle




               

Symphony...

Returning to  Haiku Heights for this week's word prompt:

Symphony

Turn off lights, close eyes
listen to Rachmaninoff
Transported in Time

  

Alien or stork?...

My offering for Haiku Heights  this week.  Check out the other entries while there for a variety....

Ominous indeed

Birthday March forty seven

First breath in space craft?

~

Soul...

Today's prompt at Haiku Heights is "soul"...

Henley's Invictus
tells of his resilience
Captain of his soul
~

True voice of the blues
Her soulful songs topped the charts
Rest in peace Etta
~

The Poor Soul so tried
yet met with certain failure
Gleason's humble id
~

Katrina robbed souls
sweeping away livelihoods
 Obliteration
~

Heart, body, and soul,
Barry, Smokey, and Marvin
Seventies' Soul Train

***


      Sings my soul to thee            
  infinite omnipresence

  Music thus arranged

Our yearning essence
moving impulses aspire
To higher levels

 Sublime from within
innate womb of suspension,
 Comes not ready made

Trials play us forward
beyond the last horizon

Divinely spun web

klr

Forget Me Not...

Sharing with Haiku Heights this week, the prompt is Forget Me Not.  
I truly have a cup my mother gave to me  that has "Remember Me" written in gold on it.  It is in a box temporarily from a move I was making, so I could not get a picture of it today.  I used images I found online instead.  When I locate it I will replace these pictures 

with the real one.

Mother bequeathed me  

Porcelain Forget Me Nots

Quote: "Remember Me"

 by klr

French Door Reflection...

My contribution to today's Open Link Night at  - where we are to 

share a tale that should not be forgotten - is simply a few moments in time, the tale left more to the imagination. In my mind for some time, it needed to be written and 

put on paper so to speak...I hope it fits with the theme...

In my reflection 

no blemishes can be found

Only peachy soft sunlight

Wavy glass panes guard

my vulnerability

Empty porch swing waits 

Imperfections lost

unless you peer deep inside
Past the netted screen


Double doors ajar

rusty hinges whine in, out
Gloaming falls on me

Raspberry gold beams

widen my ready spread arms

To your twilight song

Almost home at last
boots faithfully rest on stoop
How fortunate I

Knowing you know me 

reflected in your eyes now

Eve's far from over

by klr

Art and meaning....

This week's Haiku Heights challenge is the word 'meaning'


To me  Frida Kahlo's kitchen table symbolizes how much we center our lives around art

......and whether we know it or not, without it we might die..perhaps that is a stretch, but I don't think so when we think of the myriad forms of art we partake of everyday. We indulge ourselves with it.  No need for me to mention the ubiquitous sources of our pleasures as well as our consternation.  This started as one haiku and grew

a bit in length by the time I was satisfied...I think Diego would agree ;-).

Art means nourishment

 Steaming spirits deep inside
leap onto canvas


Its breath sustains us
wrought of sweet tribulation
drawn from sanguine bone
  
 Magnificent works

Sculpted, writ, measured, designed 
 fired into substance

Steeped bare essentials
Suffer the earth to drink God's
 fragrant cup of tea



by klr

First ...haiku challenge

Sharing with:   

For two centuries

since democracy's cradle

we've fought bigotry

New stellar icon

graces world in symphony

She's our First Lady

by klr

Haiku Heights

Heat Haiku..as in William Hurt..

                 Sharing with  Haiku Wednesday and recuerda_mi_corazon

For some reason my mind went directly to the movie "Body Heat" with William Hurt and 

Kathleen Turner, a re-make of "Double Indemnity", I believe.  There is a provocative scene with them on 

her terrace, similar to the one below, only dozens of  wind chimes are tinkling eerily as in an Alfred Hitchcock movie..

Approaching the night

 deep layers of orange blossoms 

fuse with linen scent


Lit paper lanterns

sway in the nocturnal breeze

glass capiz shells chime

Sultry daphne pairs 

with summertime soft blue notes

body heat rising

Waltzing me around

beyond the fountained terrace 

under lunar beams

Pool water ruffles 

touching places in my soul 

borne of the season


by klr

"Vital" words & Nature's pink wild rose...

Today I am linking up with 2 different challenges .. first is             

 and   kimklassencafe.com with a photo art postcard designed using one of her textures, deardreamer and a personal message.  The pink rose is from my yard,  is faded for the theme of her prompt, "Natural", for which there are so many options.  For Leo's              I wrote a haiku for the word "Vital" to describe the motivation behind the card...I hope I disconnected the word verification step as suggested ;-)

by klr

Circumstance arose

Vital as blood in my veins

Urge to convey thoughts

True love..beneath tree boughs..

This was intended for another haiku challenge, the word prompt being 'True'..again I was slow 

to get finished in time to post...I like the exercise, so to speak, so it keeps me in practice...

Beneath tree boughs low

Love me tender love me true

picnic tableau spread

 Golden rings exchanged

veritable dreams begat 

  our dear family


by klr

Fireworks..Independence .. July 4, 2012...

Liberty bells rang

Crowds reveling in spirit

Fireworks kissed night sky

Courage through bloodshed

in seventeen- ninety- two
screw unfair taxes

by klr

'Natural'....Haiku Wednesday...

Our prompt this week for the Haiku Wednesday challenge is 'Natural'

No sugar or bread
eat only lean meats and fish
All natural foods


Avoid soy, dairy
Yoga each day for balance
Learn to meditate


Eco-awareness
Organic everything
mind and body care


Herbs and supplements
Hemp and bamboo products too
Spas and pilates


Naturopathics
Holistic acupuncture
Past lives therapy


Eat fruit for wellness
Enhance your immune system
Stave off all disease


Purified water
No artificial added
Recycle - live green

Health is our reward
Environmental stewards
when we choose to move


All the above cues
provide  lots of prevention
I have far to go...
                                                did I mention???



by klr

Confidence.. Haiku...

Having missed the cut off time for last week's challenge at Sensational Haiku Wednesday, I still want to share it as I had finished it, but it is not being posted to Jenn's web-site.  Thank you for stopping by anyway, if you do ;-) and critiquing it if you like.            

                                                                            The Golden Valley

My world by design

Had I confidence back then  

would be otherwise

Had I the vision

To build bridges not burn them

taking the high road 

Shouldering a cross 

My manifest destiny

could have been altered 

Trading up from strife

Continuity in life

peace being the prize


by klr

Universal ...haiku word prompt...

Hooking up with  Sensational Haiku Wednesday

Some experts have said

we are separated by

only six degrees

Universally

like a spider's fine spun web

linked to each other

by klr

"Joy."..and The Hungry i ..Haiku Heights....a n d......

    My second time linking with Haiku Heights

Remember with me

'Twas written by Three Dog Night

 with frog prodigy  

Mighty fine music

Jeremiah would agree

brought "joy to the world"

by klr




a n d.....one  joyous  memory from the "hungri i" restaurant...
 ...

My memory of the "hungri I" ~

San Francisco - 1961...
we lunched at Fisherman's Wharf, 
rode the cable cars, saw the Presidio, 

drove down Lombard St., walked Chinatown and drove through Haight Ashbury.  And yes, we 
crossed over the Golden Gate bridge, saw Alcatraz, climbed the Coit Tower and even saw a San Francisco Giants baseball game at Candlestick park.  I was 14 and my brother, Alan, 11.  Our parents took us out of our mundane routine to know some of the world outside our own small town.   I remember that 

I wore a scarf  and it blew across my face along with big raindrops as we ducked for cover into the renowned "hungri i"  restaurant one evening.  We were in for a treat!  It was elegant, I thought, 

and I felt quite grown up when I was allowed to have a glass of red wine with dinner, brought to our round oak table by a handsome waiter.  And I was allowed a sip of my father's martini.  We practiced our table manners without cue, or we would get "that look" from our parents.  We had tickets to see the live show after our meal!

                                                             

                                                                                                                                                                            The Gateway Singers

The Kingston Trio, who hailed from the bay area, launched their career at this nightspot. Headlining the show that night was a new comedian, Bob Newhart.  The show opened that night with the powerful Gateway Singers. Billed with Bob Newhart were The Limeliters with tenor, Glenn Yarbrough 

Little did we know that all would become world famous within a short time.  Never having been at a live event, I was struck with how splendidly loud, full-bodied and soulful the music sounded.  The songs were in the folk music genre of the time, like The Christy Minstrels group and The Smothers Brothers...around the time of The Captain and Tenille and The Brothers Four who sprouted from Washington State. Barbra Streisand was a favorite, as was Mort Saul, comedian.  You may include Peter, Paul and Mary and Carol Burnett.  But it was Glenn Yarbrough's splendid tenor voice singing "Baby the Rain Must Fall" that took me over the moon!! They made a lasting impression on me with their raggedy songs.  Below is a 1963 medley including the Brazilian whistling song.  My father especially loved the Irish tune, "Have Some Madeira, M' Dear?" which he would lip-sinc at home in the kitchen, teasing my mother when in a fun mood.  The audience was full of adults and it was smokey and dimly lit.  People drank and laughed.  We wondered if our parents really thought we would enjoy the show or was it that they wanted to see Bob Newhart but didn't want to leave us alone in the hotel?                                                                                                                    

But there were no off color words uttered that I remember, and by the end of Newhart's monologue my side ached from so much laughter.  After returning home I bragged to my friends at school about seeing them in person,  having felt like I had taken a giant step toward adulthood.  Today the restaurant does not exist;  Another club (casino or strip) there now bears the same name. The bare brick walls where Lenny Bruce and others grew to popularity no longer fill the space; you can read more about the "hungri i" and it's long-time owner HERE .  It was totally one of most joyful and special experiences  to be there during it's heyday.

Haiku Heights

"Frog"... and... "Magnolia"..Haiku links

Linking with "Tackle it Tuesday"

 Frogs in unison 

serenade me through the night

Fine tranquilizers

by klr

                                            

                                Magnolia bluff ~ Seattle 

Proud magnolias
grandly carpet the steep bluff
meeting hazy peaks


Native sentinels
glory in sensuous tableau
anchor the framed bay


by klr