Tag: autumn

Rolling Verse of Autumn, Love and Colour

These days, I haven’t had enough time or inspiration to sit down and poem. But I had both the time and inspiration to look out of the window and admire the beauty outside. Verse came rolling smoothly in my mind, and I took and old-fashioned pen and notebook to put them down. Here is the first bunch – celebrating autumn and my love.

** Autumn and Love **


I’ve nothing to say
and nothing to do,
but stare at the clouds
and think of you.

Every day awesome
with some blossom new.
Autumn trees are so gorgeous
and so are you!

** Autumn and Colour **

Yellow with sunshine
Brown without smile
Red for the anger
All barren and wild.

© 2024, soulmary

Falling in Love with Autumn

This week, we have seen the grand entrance of autumn – the golden queen of harvest, beauty, solitude and softness. The leaves in my home town haven’t started their whirling dance downwards yet, but their colours are glowing more and more, blinding us in sunny afternoons and lighting up the nights. As if fairy lanterns have been installed to add intensity to our narrative.

Several prompt sites have suggested the falling season as inspiration. One is dVerse on Tuesday, another is Poetic Asides with its Wednesday prompt. Despite the plenitude of poems I have penned (and penciled) down over the years, I have every intention of giving it a shot.

Fall

I look to see if alleys are deserted.
Tree tops, ablaze with glow,
Wait in silence for the final swirl –
The magic dance of tiny pieces
of their souls,
Tearing effortlessly from the branches
in a wild ballet towards the soil
Where they will stay, transform, and be reborn
To live, and glow, and dance again
Next season of fall.

Then, here is a new rendering of the short poem I wrote a couple of days ago:

**
Oblivious to change,
rhythm of the leaves equalises all souls
in just a sigh, time is of no importance.

**
© 2024, soulmary

September Poem

Crocuses, a Shadorma

Recently, I moved to making collages with a mini poem and a photo I myself take. It goes well with haiku as I usually take inspiration from my own surroundings, and it works fine on all the microblogs where I post every now and then.

Here, I can post both the picture and the poem:

Crocuses
Give unscathed smiles,
Withered grass
Coloured with decaying leaves –
Vigour calming down.

Autumn Morning Haiku

I was checking the blogs I follow on Tumblr the other day, when I saw a haibun that provoked some thinking. I usually spend mornings getting ready for work and having coffee and small breakfast while listening to the morning news on one of the TV channels. I don’t do sit down at my coffee contemplating the morning and creating poetry. And why is that? I have all it takes: a nice balcony with flower pots, a view over some tree crowns and a coffee table from where to enjoy it all.

So, the next morning I went straight to it. After making coffee, of course. And I took some pictures to add to my poetry. Here is my haiku of the day, and the collage I made to support it.

No blooms in the pots
Solitary green leaves –
grey morning in autumn.

That was, for real, the first such morning. Summer was so rainy that we waited for it until August. I hoped it would last longer than usual. But now it stepped away to autumn. Not fair at all! We want more!

Haibun is a piece of art where you write a short prose paragraph and add a haiku to it, thus making a whole thing. The blog post that impressed me so much was that of my friend Bjorn Rudberg whom I met through micro poetry originally, and who has since opened to longer forms. All that said, I can now move on to my day.

Samhein

I see the death of orange, and red, and yellow
I feel the softness below my snickers-clad feet giving way to
Baredness and scarcity
That make me feel sickly cold with the greyness of the sky
The final feast passed without me attending
I just forgot.

I can’t relate to gorging food and drinks inside,
To small talk on random topics, and to smiles,
When fire is dying outside,
When colour is getting buried in sobriety
And spiky nakedness
That prick my eyes

Oh, a feast no one would tell me about
Maybe they invited me, but I didn’t listen…
No…
I forgot
to remember.

(c) 2016 MK

After the Autumn Equinox

This one is still a draft. November PAD, Day 12 – After _

After the Autumn Equinox
There comes a sudden feeling
Of festivity and settled-downness

Longer evenings, still warm
Concealing new thrill,
Secret smiles and
Stolen hand breezes

The days are sunny,
Your skirts are still short
Revealing your lanky suntanned
Summer legs
Which you’ve been growing
All for that.
© 2015, MK

Autumn Mistakes

Of course, wearing a dress in autumn, even when it’s warm is a mistake. My personal history confirms it. So, here’s the poem for Day 9 of my November poem-a-day chapbook

– Mistake –

Was I mistaken?
Was summer still the king?
The fallen leaves were burning
Like a goodbye kiss
Objecting to my stupid question

I was mistaken.
Even more so when I put on a dress.

© 2015, MK

Submerged in Autumn

After several really freezing days, empty of poetry, the Indian summer is here. At night you can see the golden sea on the street.
Submerged in Autumn

One night the sky was brown
And soft
The air warm
As if
The whole town was about to melt

I saw the street submerged
Under the thick golden flakes
Which sent an autumn call
Across the town,
An autumn smell
Across the night.

(c) 2015, MK

Once Upon a Writing Class

This prompt is not very new. I remember writing to it at least once before. I wasn’t happy with the result. The poem you see is the second one I wrote today because I didn’t like my first attempt. I think it was nearly the same as the original one, though I can’t bear to start checking that now.

Once upon a Writing class
The autumn went in through the glass
The warm sun spilled its orange softness
All around the silent room, full of eager listeners.

It felt just like one day in summer
When the sun rays somehow squeezed between my eyelashes
Like silvery sparks,
The sun was brighter then,
And I could see and feel the water glitches
hopping up and down and
Side to side before my very eyes

The professor’s voice was dim and pleasant
In its monotony of steady knowledge
Made me wish I had the same steadiness in everything:
beliefs, ideas, expression.
You know, the overall impression one gives away.

I listened to the voice, and saw the summer sun beams
Still squeezing between the leaves of autumn
Not with regret, or a feeling of incompleteness –
Things were perfect then.
© 2015, MK