Long Haibun Poems
Long Haibun Poems. Below are the most popular long Haibun by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haibun poems by poem length and keyword.
Morse code in my ear…that click-clicking-ticking deep down in my canal, even after I cleaned out my ears; it started after my Mother passed. It never seems to stop for very long. One day, I looked up the long and short clicks…my Lord! It was a message that actually made sense. Translated from Morse, it said; “Mamma, Harry, We watch over you; love you; watch…message; Harry.” Harry was my Mom’s only living brother, his daughter went across after that, in only a few weeks and after gamma surgery for a tumor, co-incidence? Now, years later I hear more frantic click-clicks; I must make note of as many as I can. So frantic are they.
Strange things do occur,
Natural phenomenon,
Often unexplained.
Mysteries unveiled;
Bringing changes to this world;
All life gets warnings.
When no longer self absorbed, as in with self serving goals, including striving for enhancing spiritual enableability, the body apparatus hollowed out, relegated to the role of a material interface to navigate earth life, presence integrated therein with lower and higher aspects of mind in alignment with the glowing heart, detached cessation thus of self aware awareness in the vibrant void of emptiness throbs with magnetic bliss energy in fullness, transfixing attention in rapture of ineffable ecstatic tranquility.
spontaneous yawn
ushering a blissful dawn
each moment reborn
28-August-2020
I was driving from Montreal to Ottawa and the snow had just started. But,
it was nothing to worry about. However, an hour out the snow was falling
quite heavy and a wind was blowing. Around a curve the traffic had stopped
so, of course I had to stop too. I was adjusting the radio when I looked in
my mirror and saw transport truck lights coming toward me at a very high
speed. I thought it was going to slow down and stop. But, it did not and
kept coming. My car was hit and I was flying over the cars. I looked down
and thought how is this possible! Life did not flash in front of me but, I was
sure I would die. My car came crashing down on the medium in the middle
of the highway and I heard a loud crunching sound. Then, I was spinning and
spinning. When the car stopped it was facing oncoming traffic. The police
were there and opened my door, helping me out. I looked at my car and
there was nothing left from behind the front seat. The car was split in two.
The policeman said to me, "It was not your time, Miss." Within minutes of walking away, my car was hit by oncoming traffic. That's when I cried and
started shaking. There is no way I should have survived that accident. So,
I am convinced that there was divine intervention at work. God, was not
ready to have me. The next day my whole body ached even my hair. I was
bruised but there was nothing broken. People died that day but I was not
one of them for some reason beyond my understanding . . .
the snow thick and wet
fierce wind roaring like a train . . .
cars lay in pieces
__________________
December 17, 2021
Poetry/Haibun/''Not My Time''
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1413-549-17
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Divine Intervention
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 1/4/2022
First Place
Released from captivity are the sons of Israel, and with tears of joy they are received by all. Today is given the name Peace 2025 indicating an ending of brutal war. Neither adversary was present, yet an extraordinary event. Can’t build a lasting peace with hate as a building material. Is it true tranquility is what awaits the world or a temporary armistice, a break in the storm—lingering disarray of what is already rubble and dust—a dystopian gray. What shall these torn nations find in an entanglement led by hyperbolic politicians, known for their vacant promises. An immovable permanency that shall lead to unity that was once in our illusive dreams, is it what it seems? Oh is it what it appears to be? What happens to a dream deferred, does it dry up like a raisin in the sun or bring a new bloom of blustering flowers from beneath the desert sands. What tempests are these that blow over deeply rooted in religion, in the eras, in the cradle of civilization.
Freed!
anticipation
Jewish son freedom now comes~
their wait exhausted
At early dawn, me lying supine on my non - mowed lawn in happy mood.
I am relaxing under bright Sun and clean clear cerulean sky enjoying
morning beauty of environ. Cheerful sparrows and sterlings to chirp
and prance. Morning dews are glistening on wild glass blades. Swift
squirrel is climbing up and coming down. Slow snail is crawling silent with
single foot. In gentle breeze, tiny feral flowers are nodding heads in fun.
Everything is running smooth and fine in fresh morning.
Fluttering wings flying butterflies are visiting blossoms. Cute kittens are
playing joyfully at a corner. I am sensing serene sublime ecstatic state.
Suddenly a grass hopper settles on tip of grass. A prompt chameleon
doesn’t miss the chance to attack and swallows up. My heavenly bliss at
once turns in melancholy sinking in hell.
nature acts ruthless ~
prey and predator to run
simultaneous.
I first fell in love with baseball back when I was 8 yrs old when I went to a Yankee game and was very fortunate to have gotten to see the great Mickey Mantle play. It was a school class trip, and the highlight of the trip was when Mantle hit a foul ball and my classmate that was sitting right next to me had the ball in his hands but couldn't hold onto it and some guy a few rows down ended up getting the ball. He was totally bummed as you can imagine. But it wasn't until the Mets won the world series when I truly became a fan of baseball and a fan of the Metropolitans. Since 69' the only games I think I missed were the games off air, maybe a handful of others but not many. One of the great games I witnessed was back on September 2, 1972. The Mets were at Houston, and it was the top of the eight when the Mets came up to the plate down 0-8. I was watching the game with my dad, and I told him they were done. He said I'll bet you a nickel that they come back and win. I naturally knew my chances were very good to win so I upped the wager to a quarter (back then that was the most I was allowed to bet- dad's rules)- he accepted my offer. Well, sure enough I lost my first bet of my life, the Mets actually came back to win that game by a score of 11-8. To this day it's the biggest late inning comeback in franchise history and I was one of the lucky ones to have witnessed it
my father bet me
the greatest come-back ever
I lost a quarter
A long-time memory that hugs my heart, so many years ago. When I was nearing ten years old, I was playing in the snow. It was me and my two sisters, my brother and his gal. And there was also my dog "Snoopy" whom I've always called- "MY Pal." The snow had fallen for two days long, and it was bitter cold. But that didn't stop a child from playing in the snow, when their nearing ten years old. I remember throwing snowballs and constructing igloos too! We'd play all day in the snow, until our lips turned blue. But lastly, I remember, 'twas one of my favourite things. In the snow, we'd lay on our backs, and make "Snow Angel Wings."
Playing in the snow
Memories that hug my heart
Featherless angels
On the way to the nursing home, we pass many beautiful sights. So many homes with pleasant yards, lawns, and flowers that delight. After so many days of rain then a little break, green everywhere abounds.
kudzu wraps up trees
grows rapidly reaches road....
goats needed to dine
Several homeplaces have clear-cut trees so that the area looks completely different. Then the area where the tornado came through and demolished so many acres of trees, damaged homes, and other buildings. It will take years for it to grow back or will it ever?
birds can't find a tree
nesting impossible there....
landscaped homes needed
The anxiety grows as we get nearer to the nursing home. Will the visit be much the same? He no longer has his hearing aids so that adds to his confusion. He mostly can't hear nor understand so the conversation bypasses him totally. She isn't up to date with the times either because she is isolated or she can't remember. The short-term memory is gone. It went the way of yesterday and can't return. They are not allowed to share a room nor are they in the same section of the home.
nurse brings her out first
he comes out, sits next to her....
they kiss, worth while trip
Days of youth, spending time tossing that white pellet.
Learning how to play was sometimes heartless
as losses were an injury which was difficult to take.
As time went, so did the misunderstandings of the game,
but instead left a deeper love for its nuances.
Where to move on each play, who covered which base,
cutoffs, and the defensive attitude in mind when on the field.
Looking to see if the coach had enough faith
to put your name in the lineup for that day's game.
Every pitch became important. Every batted ball became the
hit you wanted. Every member of the team became your friend for life.
Don't let them down with an error or strikeout. Be their hero
with the saving catch or drive in the winning run.
Baseball on green fields
Pastime of all my summers
All American game.
Why am I here on Poetrysoup you ask?
A cousin and wonderful friend introduced me to Poetrysoup , she is now passed and my angel. Her excitement of how gracious everyone was, with a heart of outpouring enthusiasm of the website and her love for writing. She wrote telling me of Vera Dugan the friend she had made, Arthur Vaso and his creativity, and can not forget Demetrios Trifiatis and his love of poetry and photos. I too have become close and admire all of them.
creation of art
not a true Picasso makes
cultivates learning
I found a new medium to work with because of her excitement of the website and her love for writing. She would call and asked for my opinion when she created a new piece or she would ask what I thought. I have a love for creating and respect those that have the talent to do so.
rhymes, free verse, haiku
music sounds with written words
brevity, beauty
12/22/2015
Why Are You here At Poetry Soup - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jerry T Curtis
Because of the little war that is going on I have lost a few dear friends :"(