“This week: Your writing invitation is to choose one of the 24 Forms for your poem. You can use the kigo words and phrases from the Part I challenge post HERE, or from the 500 Kigo Words you can use the phrases I’ve created below are three kigo phrases for the Northern Hemisphere. Use one kigo phrase in each of your three poems in whatever order you’d like.”
The 24 Seasons Syllabic Poetry challenge for #TankaTuesday focuses on the Beginning of Summer. It encourages poets to use kigo words or phrases related to the season in their syllabic poetry. Find inspiration in the seasonal changes and embrace the vibrancy of the month.
How does this time of year affect you where you live? Think about the seasonal changes. What descriptive words come to mind? If they work to define the season you’re in, add them to your kigo list.
This week I have settled on doing an Abhana (which is a 4-line stanzas with 6-6-6-4 syllables each. L2 and L3 rhyme. The end rhyme scheme is abbc) My Kigo words are, spring blooms, summer sun, silver moons , chanable weather..
Sadje at Keep it alive said: “Welcome back to another WDYS prompt“
Rules;
You can write a post on your blog and create a pingback to link to the original post.
Write an original story, poem or a caption.
There is no limit to words or format but keep it family-friendly.
If you post a response before next Sunday, I will be able to add it to my roundup post.
I will do a round-up next Sunday before the next Prompt is posted.
It is always helpful if you can give your post/story/poem a title.
There are issues with pingbacks in WordPress these days. So please paste a link of your post in the comments section so that I don’t miss anyone in the roundup post.
Please tag your responses with
#Whatdoyousee
Or
#WDYS
Does this picture inspire you to write something?
Image credit; Marianna Smiley @ Unsplash “Thrive” by Danial Pooper a sculpture in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.
For the visually challenged reader, this image shows a giant female figure who is opening her chest to show the greenery inside.There are cracks on the visage and torso of this sculpture.
Angel in Pain
I saw the Angel at the grave weeping tears. The weight grief she carried, through the years
It hurt to see the angel so, such a burden she had to carry. The hate and betrayal all around I wondered why she’d tarry.
Her tears were real I touched I know. I wondered what on earth had made this lacrimo flow.
She told me all that she had seen and places she had been. The trenches of Ypres, concentration camps and bloody fields at Waterloo. She’d held dying men and abused women and children too.
The world is not improving even after all that she has tried . To help us toward peace and love is always pushed aside.
She asked me for my help, I was indeed surprised. I a mere mortal who has sinned and lost all pride. Reaching out a hand to me , she touched my chilled skin. To my great surprise she was warm that set me wondering.
How could marble feel like flesh, my heart began to pound I looked into her blue eyes another wonder there I found. As well as tears I saw great knowledge gained from living life too long.
She offered me a bag of seeds the like I had never seen She begged plant them where I stood among this grass so green. I asked her what the seeds were and why upon this slope. She looked at me with pleading eyes and whispered “These are the seeds of hope!”
I was holding in my hands the hope for all the world, It was a terrifying thought. To keep them safe, my fingers gently curled .
Plant them please, plant them now and make a vow. Tend these most important seeds, watch them as they grow. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders as those tiny seeds I then did sow.I saw the Angel at the grave she was weeping tears. The weight of all the grief she had seen, years of pain and fears.
It hurt me to see the angel so, such a burden she had to carry. The hate and betrayal all around I wondered why she should tarry.
Her tears were real I touched them so I know. I wondered what on earth had made this lacrimo flow.
She told me all that she had seen and places she had been. The trenches of Ypres, concentration camps and bloody fields at Waterloo she had held dying men and abused women and children too.
The world is not improving even after all that she had tried .To guide and help and educate us toward peace and love . It was always pushed aside.
She asked me for my help, I was indeed surprised. I am a mere mortal who has sinned and lost all pride. Reaching out a hand to me , she touched my chilled skin. To my great surprise she was warm that set me wondering.
How could marble feel like flesh, my heart began to pound I looked into her blue eyes another wonder there I found. As well as tears I saw great great knowledge gained from living life too long, not the type we learn from college.
She offered me a bag of seeds the like I had never seen she begged plant them where I stood among this grass so green. I asked her what the seeds were that she asked I plant upon this slope. She looked at me with pleading eyes and whispered they are the seeds of hope!
I was holding in my hands the hope for all the world, it was a terrifying thought so around them, to keep them safe, my fingers gently curled .
Plant them please, plant them now and make to me one vow. Tend these most important seeds, watch them as they grow. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders as those seeds I began to sow.
The angel sighed so gently I nearly didn’t hear. She touched my face and told me not to fear. She looked so very tired, she looked so very old. Then suddenly with no fuss she once again was made of marble cold.
This week Colleen says. :”Here we are at the end of April! Where did the month go? As NaPoWritMo winds down, I hope you’ll write some syllabic poetry with me.
This week for #TankaTuesday we’re in the second week of the season of Grain Rain as we follow the 24 Seasons of Japan. The dates are based off of the lunisolar calendar, often called an agricultural calendar. The traditional Chinese and Japanese lunisolar calendar divides a year into 24 solar terms.“
Our Invitation:
I’ll give you the hokku portion for the Northern & Southern Hemispheres, and you write the wakiku portion. (I’ll add the kigo words to the hokku). See below ⬇️
BONUS: After you write the wakiku in reply to my hokku, please add your own hokku (haiku) on your post. In the comments on your post, I’ll add the wakiku portion.
Colleen’s Hokku “an empty attic the sound of April showers thunderous rumblings”
My Wakiku”I sit wrapped in a blanket mother made from summer stars.’
My Hokku“night sky was red spring is waining, summer waits dawn omens bode well .”
Colleen’s Wakiku “from the shoreline, a wolf howls welcoming in a new day”
Can’t you stop that child crying he is doing my head in! He goes on and and on incessant crying there’s no bloody peace and that smell gets in to your skin.
Shut up! Shut up!! will you shut up your driving him up the wall. You scream, he nags the blame’s always laid at my door. You won’t eat you won’t sleep shut up I don’t know what to do at all! Stop, Stop my head hurts , now look I’ve knocked you to the floor.
Be quiet, be quiet, ssh! he really needs his rest . He has to be up up for work he doesn’t realize I am doing my best. Here drink this bloody bottle ..what now is it too hot ! Okay, okay if you don’t want to feed you can stay there in your cot!
Be quiet, please please be quiet will you settle now , stop stop !! If you don’t let me change this nappy I just won’t bother …….. now. OH! for goodness sake will you stop that noise why can’t you be like other babies bundles of cooing joys?
ARRRRRGH! I can’t take it any more shut your bloody noise stop, stop I am sick of you………… there that shut you up.
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Covering up her baby the young woman walks away, silence, golden silence she has not had that for days. Memories flood in to her head, her mother screaming at her, screaming in her face and being hungry and cold in her bed.
The vows she made the love she craved, the mistakes she’d said she’d never make. OH! no she’d been just like her mother again she’d shouted at and hurt the babe. But what was she to do. She has no idea of what to do with a baby, three of them in this squalid, two room flat, living hand to mouth would drive anyone crazy.
She goes back in the room the baby is silent still. Yet he does not look right …. something does not look good is he breathing ? It is hard to see in this light. Bending down she picks him up …ah! yes at least he is breathing . Gently now and quietly she takes him into their room her boyfriend’s asleep now she prays that neither will stir for any time soon.
There is dirty washing everywhere, the cupboards are bare of proper food she sits there hugging baby tight ( too tight) silver light from the TV flickers and to it she is glued.
Where is the help these children need where is the help they were promised. It is quiet now but that will not last, will someone take away their baby and will these older children be admonished . Will some one end the circle of abuse.
Yes she is a beautiful child she has that look of innocence that drives men wild. She could make a fortune it is true but is it really the right thing to do.
She will love it all the fuss, the travel the treats the complements from all she meets. There is a future in photo modelling for her she has that presence that maked all who see her stare.
What if she falls into the wrong hands there’s plenty out there who will misuse her beauty plenty who have nasty plans. No she will be fine no harm will come to this child of mine.
“Mummy , mummy can I go and play?” no my sweet not today. “Please mummy I want my friends to stay!” no you have work to do, send them away. “Please mum can I go to school I want to be with people my age I want to learn and play the fool.” “No we have a teacher for you, there are adverts and film work for you to do.”
“Why can’t I have friends around that are my age I don’t the like photographers they rant and rage.” ‘No I told you you are special your very precious. You don’t have time to skip and play face it sweetie your looks won’t last and you’ll be too tall one day!”
We should get a couple more years fame at this rate we are clawing in the money she has time to be young later she can wait. Sadly that’s not true her childhood robbed and she becomes sad and blue.
Slowly all her ties get cut her friends grow few she is neither child nor adult too. The lines of age soon get blurred is she thirteen or twenty three and a third?
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Another form of abuse not quite so obvious but just as dangerous. The parents live their dreams and missed opportunities through their children. Not all but some, child models, child actors, child beauty queens loose their childhoods. They feel no worth unless they are being complimented . They are not balanced, being deprived of growing up through a childhood. Basically they are used as much as if they have been sold in to slavery. Sad little lost dolls. A poem for Child Abuse Month.
They came in the night, they made the women scream like animals. Then they killed the men, then they cut the breasts off of the women with babies, then they burnt the men’s bodies the village and the crops. Some of them were men, but more were children boys and girls.. with angelic faces, dead eyes , tight curly hair and machetes and gun.
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They came in the night they caused a terrible fright. They butchered the men and raped the women again and again then cut off the breasts of the mothers with babies. They shot those that ran like a dog with rabies.
They rounded us up, those under five they did not leave alive but us that could walk they took. The last sight we had of our sweet lives was the flames of our village, the last sight for those brave enough to look.
No weep for your brother, no weep for your father or mother no weep or they beat you boy. Now you be a soldier you carry a gun say goodbye to happy days no more fun no more joy. You learn to shoot, you learn fast, you do as you are told you do not get asked. You sleep when your told you march till you drop if you do good you get a blanket to keep out the night’s cold.
You learn how to throw a grenade and set a mine then you learn to watch as people die from famine. You learn no pity you learn only pain what ever you can get is someone’s loss but now it’s your gain. You eat when the big boys say eat. If you take too much or steal it you get beat.
They don’t just take us boys they take girls too and what’s worse they have to sleep with the men and they get babies which is a curse. They have to do all that we have to do but don’t worry what the men do to them they sometimes do to us too.
We have to kill without mercy, burn villages and crops us boys and the girls right up until their babies drop. No good looking frightened that will not save you, no good being pretty or cute that don’t bode well for you.
We loose what love we had, it is replaced by the gun and for long hot days in the sun covered in blood eventually you forget your mum. No chance for learning at school we are soldiers now on the road stealing and killing……… now isn’t that cool. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They came in the night, they made the women scream like animals. Then they killed the men, then they cut the breasts off of the women with babies, then they burnt the men’s bodies the village and the crops. Some of them were men, but more were children boys and girls.. with angelic faces, dead eyes , tight curly hair and machetes and guns.
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Child soldiers, taken from their villages, boys and girls both. Taken , used and abused. Beaten , hardened until they have no feelings. Girls forced in to marriage and made pregnant still take part in raids..pregnant or carrying babies on their backs. Boys treated no better abused and hardened . Another horrible type of Child Abuse
God it itches and it burns. Now it bleeds when I pee but I have to smile when the stinking men do things to me.
See my sister she is barely twelve I have had to teach her how to dip and delve. It makes me sick what I have had to show her to do but she needs to do it right or she will get beaten black blue.
I am so tired I worked all night through. I didn’t earn enough, so to keep the boss sweet I have to work today too. I am sure I have lice in my hair it is driving me mad but the boss don’t care. I asked for something to sort it out he just slapped my face ……. it is so unfair, no doubt.
Ha, look at us in dresses of virgin white four little maidens of the night. We have skills to make you blush we can play you till you can’t help but gush. That is just fine because it means we have to put up with you for less time.
what chance have we
What is the future for us, well who knows, Dr, Lawyer, Architect ha, any of those. I don’t know what’s the point we all got taken out of school at ten years and got dumped in this joint. The bugs in this place are the biggest you have ever seen, lice abound and herpes too, come join us have some fun…what?? does it not appeal to you?
Lost souls are we no hope, no chance how we live you never see. Cute short dresses, killer heels, silk underwear for you to look and cop a feel. You can do anything you want to us and we cannot complain or make a fuss.
Ha, look at us in dresses of virgin white four little maidens of the night. We have skills to make you blush we can play you till you can’t help but gush. That is just fine because it means we have to put up with you for less time.
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There is a whole underworld out there and we need to hose it out and rid it from the face of the earth. Okay that is what I would like to do with the people who run it. I would like to give the girls and boys a chance. We must not forget the boys enslaved too. We need to do something even if it is just a poem or a story!
willowdot21 
