19th century Veika Hasrgawa
made woodblock rints pf the meijimg era
painting ogiku style 'mums'* with a single head
a flower in Japan so sacred
*https://panteek.com/Hasegawa/index.htm
Categories:
woodblock, art, flower, people,
Form: Clerihew
Autumn
I looked up to see
the day receding from me
and it’s falling leaves.
***
Note:
The 'Alyscamps' is an ancient Roman cemetery founded in the 4th century in Arles, France. Vincent van Gogh was inspired by Japanese woodblock prints, and expressed his feelings about Japanese art in letters he wrote to his brother Theo and fellow artist Paul Gauguin.
Categories:
woodblock, autumn,
Form: Haiku
Oh! If I were a Japanese painter
I could do justice to where I sit now,
on top of a rock by the river
watching a pale sun weakly glow.
Through the overcast it will create
a calligrapher's world of subtle lines,
infer creatures that habituate
the river. With a slight wash give the signs
that the next storm means to collect its debts
of the few orange leaves left on the trees that
marked a long years sunrises and sunsets.
So we end this year with a clean clear palette.
I and my golden dog are small figures
on the rock by the woodblock signatures
Categories:
woodblock, allegory, allusion, appreciation, art,
Form: Sonnet
The artist Hokusai memorialized,
In his woodblock print of raging seas,
The great wave off Kanagawa,
That brought Nippon to its knees.
Again the modern rising sun is caught,
In the wrath of shifting plates,
And the belch of a feral tsunami,
Which left millions unsure of their fates
Waves swallowed the archepelico.
Mount Fuji stood at the ready to defend.
The islands won the battle with nature,
But Japans ill's will take years to mend.
Grace and will fills the souls of surviviors
Ancestors fortitude flows through their veins.
They will try to accept lifes yin and yang,
While resolving the tragedy that remains.
The flying cranes wings are strong.
Broad and feathered to deal with lifes tests.
Through centuries they have learned many lessons,
On how to rebuild and strengthen their nests.
Categories:
woodblock, natural disasters
Form: Rhyme
I make this detection
upon introspection
of the woodblock inside me named soul
I'm sightless to beauty
on par with a cootie
or, moreover, an underground mole
I distinguish not burdock
from daisy nor hollyhock
a flower is a flower; just that
in all shades and shapes
their splendor escapes
their fragrance akin to rat
For music I've no ear
from hip-hop to austere
discordant cacophonies at best
hush is harmonic;
uncluttered by sonic
my woodblock is calm and at rest
Plaintive prose
gets right up my nose
and further if wordily verbose;
I don't mean to knock
but it's all poppycock
and frankly it's inclined to perturb us.
I have more to relate
let me share my pet hate
'tis birdsong, a misnomer of speech
birds scream and shriek
they squeal and they squeak
a maddening medley of screech
Categories:
woodblock, funny, introspectionme,
Form: Rhyme