Nirvana (Daily moments) Haibun

Finally! She sits motionless to savour the moment exhaling slowly…relief, at last. The night was long waking up to hammers in her head. Finally by the end of the day, knockers slowly left, one by one.

She remembers reading that heroin users are often looking for that high…reaching nirvana. She read that there were many ways to reach this ultimate summit of pure bliss. She was a bit shocked when a monk listed orgasm on his list of “highs” but thinking about it now, that did make sense along with reaching spiritual enlightenment.

Demerol was another drug that brought some to nirvana after hours of labour in childbirth. Her grandmother was a midwife and many mothers would ask for a second “shot”…she smiles at the memory of her grandmother telling her birth stories.

It must be like this for people who use opiates for painkillers as well, she ponders. She always steered away from that because she knew how easily one gets addicted. Her doctor once prescribed a procedure that would relieve her of her neck pain for about one month. It was very costly but it was not the cost that turned her off. She lives with chronic pain day and night. For the past three decades it has married her by now. To separate the pain only briefly, might be a relief…even heaven but hell would surely await after the effects wore off. No, she thought, that would be worse. She preferred to endure the soft murmurs of her partner who drummed on joints and bones and off and on would invite his knockers for a poker game in her head and neck. But when that game ended, guests left one by one…the relief swaddled her…the other joints dulled in comparison to that last performance…a concert of sheer hell.

Right now, at this very moment, she is drunk with this relief she calls, her nirvana.

Steel drums echo

Beating to a steady rhythm

Repeating an angry verse

Robbing her of any comfort

In the name of pain

© Tournesol ‘19/09/06

miracles of nature (haibun) daily moments 9/5/19

As a young child, she kept hearing aunts and uncles saying, she had so and so’s hair, and so and so’s smile and what’s her name’s eyes. It puzzled and frustrated her so much. It made her feel as if every part of her was second hand. Who want’s a body and personality that’s a hand-me-down? So one day she got so fed up, she blurted out to her mother,”What part of me looks like me?!”

each design unique
even with one small detail
phenomenal snowflake

(c) Tournesol ’19/09/05

Inspired: Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken. OSCAR WILDE.

Labour Day (haibun) Sept 2/2019

Labour Day Haibun Sept 2 2019

Labour Day makes her reminisce. School around the corner, many hoping for a better year. Some are anxious to meet old friends and make new ones. Others wary and dread to walk alone in those busy halls filled with hundreds who ignore them. Taunting and bullying is sometimes better than feeling non-existent.

Teachers worry too. Will they have what they need to help their students? Will they get the support? Will they be able to keep their head above waters sometimes boiling with oppositioins? And then there are some who look forward to feed the hungry minds or help a student find their path and thirst for even more.

Parents running around, trying to find the extra dollars for this and that. Another pair of shoes, pants that are too short…growing children and teens, all their needs and then desires. Will they all be met?

Trying to balance work and family and school demands…such a busy time. Dreading for that first phone call, hoping for something new and positive.

Jody’s first day of kindergarten, Mommy walking home, a tear upon her cheek.

Daycares singing, shouting, playing…rooms of so many new playmates!

Empty shopping malls
Deserted streets
Workers’ day of rest

Even nature rests
Clouds that spill on tired lawns
Trees bow in thanks

Youths play distracted
Excited, anxious, worried
A new school year

A new school year
Anticipating bullies
Finding a new friend

First day of school
Etched with cool graffiti
Teens’ brand new notebook

Learning something new
Adapted to your unique style
Needs are met- at last!

© Tournesol ’19-09-02
Daily Moments – September 2 2019

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

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