Day 12 Prompt: Natural Landscape | NaPoWriMo2018

NaPoWriMo Prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you specifically to write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. It may be the high sierra, dusty plains, lush rainforest, or a suburbia of tiny, identical houses – but wherever you live, here’s your chance to bring it to life through the charming mix-and-match methodology of haibun.

A Late Spring

Rabbits have eaten the bark from low Cotoneaster branches, leaving them bare to lingering cold, icy winds, and snow storms. Again this year, the bushes are at risk to dry and die when the heat does come, searing tender leaves. There will be no warm rains to waken grass seed strewn in hope, six months ago. Birds eat the grains, finding no new growth.

dormant flax seeds hide
beneath last autumn’s bent stalks
waiting for summer

Copyright © 2018-04-13, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Day 9: Who We Were | #NaPoWriMo2018

I decided to go back to April 9, to the Pilgrimage prompt, and wander a bit through the family tree. My mother was a genealogist, among other things, and we kids got to do research, each in our turn.

Who We Were
[still a rough draft]

Our people came from Iowa
by way of the Norman invasion,
Mayflower I and II, the Winthrop Fleet
by way of rivers on diverse craft
neighbors with neighbors
towns moving together

They arrived in the Firelands
then settled in Iowa and
opened South Dakota—farms
were lost behind the dam, so
back to small-town Iowa

Penneys went into retail, catalog sales
A connection of “our” Bennetts sent
Stanley to find Livingston
the Deans made sausage, and the
Gallops (Kolopp, from Alsace) took polls

The grocery store owner in
South Dakota patented a plow
the Carters served in India
as Methodist missionaries
Evangeline Ink wrote an exposé
novel about TB camp swindles

My generation and the next have been
lawyers, executives, freelancers, clerks
writing and publishing books,
poetry. textbooks, and many stories
nurses caring for the injured and elderly,
builders, handcrafters, quilters,
artists, musicians

Myself, I grow wild flax
in the backyard garden, take naps
with the puppy dogs, make up recipes
and do the laundry, play piano, and
hold my husband close to my heart

I read only as many books in a week
as I write poems, a photo for most
no children, but a library
gathered over a lifetime
determined to leave no book unread…
always buying more

There’s always time to write a poem…
time to read a book

Copyright © 2018-04-10, by Elizabeth W. “Lizl” Bennefeld.

Continue reading “Day 9: Who We Were | #NaPoWriMo2018”

Day 8: Late Snowfall | #NaPoWriMo2018

tulip shoots, nibbled by rabbits between late snowstorms
Nibbled

tulips pushing through
loam to newly fallen snow
wait in line for spring

our rabbits, lacking new grass,
nibble tender tulip shoots

Copyright © 2018-04-08, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.

We have a lot of rabbits in our yard and the surrounding neighborhood, which we appreciate, since they provide a lot of exercise for our dogs. First thing in the morning, they are eager to go outside and check for rabbits who’ve stayed out eating past the softer light of sunrise. They have such fun! Especially when the rabbits run off in different directions…or taunt the dogs by making an extra detour around the garden shed before slipping out through the fence.

 

Day 7: Sound | #NaPoWriMo2018

The prompt for today called for a poem involving one (or more) of the senses. I find that I still miss hearing those voices in the night, singing me to sleep.

bedclothes, folded down

“Night Sounds”

in the apartment where I lived
before I married, a quarter century past,
late at night through air ducts
the building sang to me
deep, rumbling chants
basso profondo choir

I recall the voices—
vibrations in my bones—
rocking me to sleep
wrapped in
silent
sound

Copyright © 2018-04-07, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.

Day 5 Prompt – Intelligence | #NaPoWriMo2018

Brewer: For today’s prompt, write an intelligence poem. Of course, intelligence is subjective. What is common sense for one person makes no sense to another. But intelligence is more than IQ and test scores. There’s artificial intelligence, intelligent animals, and military intel. And I’ve found that many poets have a special intelligence of their own.

the books by the chair

“Specialized Intelligence”

I’m good with words
Ideas flow from my mouth
guiding the bewildered
the puzzled, the lost

Just don’t ask me to repeat
what I said last—I can’t
My mind has moved
into a new channel

The sound of spoken words
often bypasses memory
The words that I gave you
rest only with you, now

Copyright © 2018-04-05, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Day 6: uneven lines | NaPoWriMo2018

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Prompt from NaPoWriMo: “Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that stretches your comfort zone with line breaks. That could be a poem with very long lines, or very short lines. Or a poem that blends the two….”

uneven lines

when the patterns that you see
do not mirror the observations of others
patterns can be dangerous
the loaded gun can go off
when patterns go askew
things can happen
even when they don’t
flow with the
current
script
a lot like my life

Copyright © 2018-04-06, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Day 3: Empty | life of words

books, journals, and writing implements
the written word

life of words

filtered through words
life lived at second hand
a slower pace—indepth
reexamined
contemplated and
reworked

without the words
written out or spoken—
if only heard, repeat them
before they disappear
into the aether—
wordless melodies and rhythms
sensory nonsense songs

not meaningful
without the verbs
subjects and adjectives
caught in imaged
letters upon the mind
retrievable…
sounds are only
empty noise

Copyright © 2018-04-03, by Elizabeth (Lizl) Bennefeld.

Again, a rough draft, I expect.

Lizl