simmering memories Haibun Daily Moments August 27 2019

© clr Grand-Maman 2014

After spending a relaxing day reading, she decided to prepare her dinner.  Looking in the fridge, she was  lacking inspiration.  Groceries were in need, she sighed, yet she wanted to wait since she had busted her budget already two weeks ago.  She found broccoli stems she had saved, a bag of baby carrots, left over small potatoes that would spoil soon and of course her trusty jar of minced garlic.  Looking up at her vegetable and fruit basket hanging next to the pantry, she took two onions.

She fried the garlic, then onions then filled the pot with water and the chopped vegetables added several heaping tablespoons of beef bouillon, adding spices here and there and let it come to a boil.  Of course she added Worcestershire sauce…it was one staple in her recipes along with a dash or two or three of curry.  She stirred, adding more spices but thought she might wait a while to allow the ingredients to savour the concoction she was making.  She preferred to call it ETF (Empty The Fridge) soup.  But in the past few months there was less and less to empty.  Her fridge was sparse and that was partly trying to follow her more humble budget and also she was tired of throwing away food if she had not got around to cook.  Living alone means not over buying and calculating just enough “in case” family drop by.  Although, her timing was never that great either in those instances.  She tried to keep some things she had cooked in the freezer since she usually cooked enough for at least eight persons.

She stirred the bubbling vegetable liquid and lowered the heat to simmer.  She realized she needed to add more water so she transferred the pot to a bigger pot and then she added lentils she had rinsed several times to the stock.  As she added a few more dashes of this and that, she could not help but think of her GrandMaman.  How she wished she would have been more interested in cooking as a young adult and spent more time cooking with her.  She saw her cook as a teenager but once she married and left home, she rarely watched her do her magic in the kitchen.  She was such an amazing cook too.  The only thing she got down almost perfect was her turkey dressing.  And that was just by tasting, adding this and that and tasting over and over until it tasted like Christmas a long long time ago growing up.

She stirred absent mindedly, rapt in her thoughts that  brought her back in time. Perhaps that was why cooking was so comforting for many people.

swirls of broth
waves in a tin pool
bubbling with stories

listening to her old stories
turn of the last century

washboards and lye soap
horses pulling bread and milk
times of yore

© Tournesol ‘19/08/27

hope for our future ~ August 21 2019

Tournesol dans un Jardin

where has all the passion gone?

values and ideals
pushing you forward
once upon a time
you made a difference
where are you now?

ads boasting
a cause
a service
actors pretending to care

where has all the passion gone?

hungry children
desperate mothers
parents searching answers
ALL
represent our future
where is all the help?

I can’t help notice
posts on social networks
where agencies show off their deeds
I recognize some of these people
and wonder,
Do they really fucking care?
If they were paid just a little less
would they still be so impressed?

I look at ads and articles
media coverage of this and that
important people
acting like they care
they have a cause that counts
but is that just an act?

What drives these people
IF it’s true?
can dollars barter with passion?
what drives people to act and help?
what truly motivates?

Is…

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this side of the glass Haibun Daily moments August 23 2019

Funny how insulated one becomes when confined indoors. Insulated rather than isolated because it feels safe. Only the hum of her air purifier and soft snores of her cat keep her company. Looking out the window, leaves flutter with life, birds communicate from tree to tree and yet here, it’s like a different world. It’s safe here and no expectations from anyone.

She was up most of the night coughing and once that was calmed temporarily, little hammers started doing their thing just to make her life less boring. She finally managed to sleep a few more hours in the morning and her hacking cough startled even her. Another week before any doctor would consider giving her medication or believe that her lungs were clogged. She could hear a rumble when she inhaled and a faint whistle from her chest when she exhaled. She wasn’t too worried but annoyed that it had been disturbing her sleep all week.
Fortunately, she had been on vacation this passed week, so rest was the main remedy and she took advantage of that.

a different world
moving outside her window
rushing here and there
I spy with my little eye
on this side of the glass

© Tournesol ’19-08-23

tragic losses (troibun)

It is tragic when depression wraps a person so tight with layers and layers of prickly wool. A person falls victim to that predator who distorts their lens and forges their vision seeing no way out.

lost in the darkness
never sees the right bend
veiled from the light

lost in the darkness
never thought there was help
suffering alone

never seeing the right bend
turned to the left
that cul-de-sac

veiled from the light
obscurity snickers
`til that last breath

© Tournesol ’16/05/10

Daily Moments ~ tragic loss May 10  2016

hope for our future ~ August 21 2019

where has all the passion gone?

values and ideals
pushing you forward
once upon a time
you made a difference
where are you now?

ads boasting
a cause
a service
actors pretending to care

where has all the passion gone?

hungry children
desperate mothers
parents searching answers
ALL
represent our future
where is all the help?

I can’t help notice
posts on social networks
where agencies show off their deeds
I recognize some of these people
and wonder,
Do they really fucking care?
If they were paid just a little less
would they still be so impressed?

I look at ads and articles
media coverage of this and that
important people
acting like they care
they have a cause that counts
but is that just an act?

What drives these people
IF it’s true?
can dollars barter with passion?
what drives people to act and help?
what truly motivates?

Is the passion still there?
or are all these people who I see
like minions on political campaigns
do they even fucking care?
where are their values and ideals
what truly pushes one forward?

once upon a time
some of you actually made a difference
where are you all now?

am I blind or just too synical?
perhaps a bit of both
why do the ones who care just leave?
do they pick up a brand new cause
invest their heart and soul…again?

I hope this is but a halting spell
to catch your breath
start over again

I have to believe in this way
so I can live another day
with faith in our humanity.

those values and ideals
that keep pushing you forward
once upon a time, will come back
a time you made a difference
I have to feel you will come back
because all life form matters.

                     weeping
                    seeking hope for living
                     under the willow

(c) Tournesol ’21/08/2019

Daily moments – August 21, 2019

endings and losses Free Verse

Today I learned that a very special person in my life will be leaving…going far away and it saddens me very much. Loss is part of everyday life. I know that but it doesn’t make it any easier. My first reaction is sadness, then anger at whoever pushed someone away, then sadness again and I swim in that for quite some time. Sometimes guilt creeps up if I think of what I should have, could have sad when he was in my life and then I dive back down to sadness…so as I wallow in my grief this is what I have to say…

losses and endings not easy to take
saying goodbye makes my heart break

we experience loss every day, every minute
ooos there goes by a minute already!

spiritual gurus keep telling us
to be present, remain in the now
it takes many losses and defeats
to come to a place of now
to finally understand what the gurus say
enjoy each precious moment of the day

losses and endings not easy to take
saying goodbye makes my heart break

tell your friend she is pretty
thank your colleague for their support
tell your manager how helpful he has been
just don’t waste precious time away
enjoy each priceless moment of the day

losses and endings not easy to take
saying goodbye makes my heart break

tell your son how special his is
tell your daughter how
you wish you were strong like her
thank your mother for everything
that you have taken to help you strive
tell your father how you feel
just don’t waste precious time away
enjoy each priceless moment of the day

remember the good times
you’ve shared with friends and family
discard the bad times
once you’ve learned from them
even when you say goodbye
to a dear friend
their memory is always with you
right there in the crux of your heart
no one can take that away from you
even after you’ve said goodbye

losses and endings not easy to take
saying goodbye makes my heart break
so just don’t waste precious time away
enjoy each priceless moment of the day
embrace your loved ones
like it’s your very last day.

© Cheryl-Lynn 20/08/2019

Pleased to make your acquaintance! (prosery)

Jacques reflects back on this past year.  It felt more like twenty!   Detox was just a  little taste of his journey that lay ahead.

How he loathed himself and now he had to face all this sober. His mentor and sponsor, once said, “You will love again the stranger who was your self.”

No one told him the first step started within and not pointing fingers. Improve what you need to improve but do the work yourself.  It was so much easier to blame someone else for his misfortunes.

Accepting responsibility for his actions was  probably the toughest pill to swallow.    He has finally forgiven himself even if some still cannot. He’s accepted that truth too.

He sits in the front row at the legion hall, waiting to be called up to the front to share his story  and accept his one year chip.

© Cheryl-Lynn ‘20/08/2019

 On Monday, August 19th, Kim is hosting  Prosery at dVerse.   This prompt is where you write a flash fiction using a maximum  of 144 words including that line of poetry.

This week the line is “you will love again the stranger who was your self” from Derek Walcott’s poem Love after Love.