Judith Cullen - Stories: haiku

Showing posts with label haiku. Show all posts

Monday, June 4, 2018

NOT IDLE! Noooo, no no!

Recently I wrote 9 pieces, a mix of poems and stories, for Fantasy Faire in Second Life - To Benefit Relay For Life. The pieces were part of a writing challenge where the invitation was offered to visit the 15 created realms of the Faire and allow these creative environments to inspire.

In addition. I took on the added challenge of making a small list of people from my own life that had "battled the Unweaver" as we say in Faire parlance: cancer survivors, and those not as fortunate. It was hard to keep the list short, frankly.

This piece was written in memory of Rev Eugene F Kester, who passed just in the last year. A man of grace and spirit, who was unendingly supportive of me and my work.

The piece is a haiku cycle.

Image by Aoife Lorefield

Weep Not for the Day

by Judith Cullen

In memory of Gene

Motes of life floating

swaying, drifting, dissolving

in a ring of fae.

Cell by cell vanish

peeling away the layers

what will then remain?

Land diminishing

magic wafting on the breeze

first gone, then it's lost.

My head on my knees

weeping its quiet passing

exquisite, tragic.

A voice from the past

So deep, yet gently speaking

a wise shade returns.

"Seek not the ebbing,

paths naturally cycling,

mere glimpse of the whole.

"Weep not the waning,

for surely the wheel shall turn

creation returns.

"This moment will not

linger, forever static

but shall breathe anew.

"Come to the water

embrace what little remains,

hold it inside you.

"You are the vessel,

connecting all that has been

with that which shall be.

"Love is the power,

Sunday, August 7, 2016

PROCTOR ARTSFEST 2016 - Art Inspired Stories

Juried Art Show 2016

Art-Inspired Stories Project

This is the 20th Anniversary year of Proctor Arts Fest. This year's Juried Art Show and Art Inspired Stories Project are dedicated to the man who worked quietly behind the scenes for two decades, and whose vision of the arts in the Proctor District are reflected in the vibrancy of this annual celebration.

Thank you Gene Kester for your stewardship, your dedication, and your vision.

One Man's Garden

by Judith Cullen

To Gene Kester

The wise gardener knows the richness of inspired soil,

when to quench the eager thirsts of growth,

when to submit to the invigorating touch of the sun.

He toils compassionately among his rows, planting, tending,

a gentle influence over decades of potentialities.

The warm touch and twinkling presence is ever patient.

The vibrant mind, full of constant imaginative ideas,

always sees the garden in its fullest, most vibrant splendor

despite the cycling realities of decay and winter's rest.

His spade and trowel work on: encouraging, persuading,

gently assessing that which would remain in the safety of seed,

and seeks out just the right spot to plant for prosperity.

This man's garden shall never be fallow, fade or wither,

remaining a testament to one soul's stewardship and scope:

vivid color, dynamic shape reflecting the ardor of his vision

For he has planted to a design which conforms to the eternal,

and cherished it with the blessing of every God-given gift

that one hand, and one heart can hold in everlastingness.

**********

Pieces Selected for Presentation

Use of any of the photo images on this page without the express permission

of the individual artists is strictly prohibited

{LOCATED IN THE FOYER}

Aunt Ruthie

Image copyrighted by the Artist

by Janette Stiles, Graphite on Paper

Is this really her? The undulating gleam of calculated waves. The precise manicure and intense perfection of rouge and liner. Determined lips reflect a polished, fell sensuality belying the softness of fur.

I question what I remember - what I choose to remember: impossibly good cookies whose recipe was never revealed, dizzy songs sung in the car that can never be forgotten, secret assaults on household furnishings that I was sworn never to disclose to my Mother.

That is the aunt I remember. That is the complex formula of imperfections that branded me with its eternal acceptance, and unquestioned love.

WARMING UP for Art Inspired Stories: The Canvas of Childhood

It was a great morning to be out to breakfast. Apparently I wasn't the only one to think so. After placing my order, I began scribbling on my notepad in the usual hope that something will spark my interest or imagination.

One full page of drivel later (and a lot of frustrated page slashes), a family of four walked in complete with sparkly birthday hats and a cluster of balloons clutched in the hands of the birthday boy. The parents waved at me as I took a snapshot of them. It made me think about what an open canvas childhood is, and how experiences big and small paint themselves on that canvas in hues that set the tone for the rest of life. They can't be primed over or sanded away.

My 85 year old Mother tells stories all the time. Almost all of them are about her childhood. Very little is spoken of some 65 years in deference to fond recollections of the first 20. It reminds me of the importance of that childhood canvas, and how the events and sensory input of those years are indelibly marked on the soul.

By the way, I gifted the young celebrant with a glass of chocolate milk, and when he left he was wearing TWO of the sparkly hats on his head. I hear the chocolate milk is especially fine this season.

The Canvas of Childhood

by Judith Cullen

Five balloons a float

each helium-filled token a year

excitement still fresh

Remembering times

of a world all bright and high

vibrant child essence

Remembering days

joy-infused with adventure

replete, repeat them

Remembering sense

sounds and smells of young living

surprises await

When decades have passed

indelibly imprinted

sounds, smells, colors, tastes

Five balloons a float

a special breakfast this day

seeds of memories

More haiku, drabble and free-verse coming for this year's Proctor ArtsFest Art Inspired Stores Project, coming August 6th!

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

HAIKU/POEM: FeelingTall

Awareness of Tall

By Judith Cullen

I know I am not

but sometimes it seems I am

and the world changes

Standing in the dawn

a sudden sensation

the world realigns

A mere moment this

consciousness of stretching up

shoulders back, head high

Fancying I see

the tops never in my view

spine reaching skyward

Like Alice it seems

the world shrinks all around me

old life is tiny

The instant is gone

that familiarity

the usual scale

It all returns now

with a disappointing shock

I fit into life

I know I am not

but sometimes it seems I am

and the world changes

What would it be like

sustaining that awareness

life filling with "tall"

Saturday, August 1, 2015

ART INSPIRED STORIES at Proctor ArtsFest 2015

Welcome to the 2015 Art-Inspired Stories Project!

This year I chose 21 pieces out of the entire show, and this year I wrote for all. Ten of those were presented live this afternoon at the Festival.

My choices were not meant to be qualitative. All the work submitted was lovely and merit-worthy, but I could not possibly organize and write 71 stories in less than 48 hours. So here are some of the criteria I used in making choices when I viewed the exhibit and photographed the artworks to develop.

I did not choose:

Works whose message was clear - why muck with or restate something that is already strong?

Works whose stories could not be contained to 100 words

Balancing the general themes of the stories (funny, sweet, contemplative, etc) and the various mediums and styles.

I am very pleased with this year’s stories, and I hope that you enjoy them as well.

**********

Pieces Selected for Presentation at

the Proctor Arts Fest Juried Art Show
Note: All Stories are © 2015 by Judith Cullen
Use of any of the photo images on this page without the express permission
of the individual artists is strictly prohibited

{LOCATED IN THE FOYER}

1948 Ford Woody Station Wagon

By Jens O Pedersen, Three Dimensional

We chatter together, loading the wagon in the morning sunlight. The paneling is warm against my hand as doors open and close; eager for the seashore.

Marta hands me the picnic basket. “You’re better at packing the car.” It’s her Mother’s basket, borrowed for today. Woven slats feel friendly and familiar as I slide them into a little hole between chairs and beach bags.

The sky is blue and the ocean bluer, twinkling, inviting. The waves shout. Running on hot, tingling sand, my feet restless to feel what my hands know, even through layers of wax: the sentience of wood.

Backyard Band

Susan Strohm, Watercolor

“What are those kids up to? Norman, go see what those neighbor kids are up to.”

“It’s none of our business, Iris, let them alone.”

“They’re always setting up a ruckus. They’ve got to learn some manners.”

Norm has fought this battle before. He knows when to withdraw with honor.

As he peeks over the fence, camouflaged by laurel and rhododendron, he sees a bow, sticks, strings and the glint of brass. He returns quietly, and sweet sounds usher him into the room where Iris sits, knitting. He smiles, and she looks up in surprise.

“I think its music, Iris.”

MEMORIAL DAY

Memory can seem like both a blessing and a curse. The pleasant kind of memory helps us get through the difficult times and remember that we are loved and valued, and remember those to whom we return these empowering feeling. The other kind of memory - loss, grief, anger - these seem like a liability, but they can be a positive challenge as well: an opportunity for triumph over tragedy (spoken in the most dramatic terms).
But for today, Memorial Day, I want to share a haiku cycle I wrote in 2013 in recognition of the men and women who serve and have served - those who allow their lives to be changes irrevocably so that the rest of us can live in relative freedom.

Today, as with many days, I remember my father - Douglas G. Cullen - who served in the Korean Conflict.

The Experience

by Judith Cullen
(c) 2013

A reality

one’s self is changed forever

skilled maturity

Trained for all action

committed at high level

participation

Can we understand

their sweat, their blood given us

in a foreign land

Our best acquaintance

ever honor, and duty

their experience

Thursday, October 9, 2014

AH, AUTUMN!

It's here! For some reason this is a pretty prolific "story" time of year for me. Witness that this year my annual traditional ghost story writing, which has been happening for several years, manifested itself into two different stories. I am planning to share those stories here, but first a little warm up.

Last year I got involved with Stephanie Mesler's Word Association Haiku Challenge, and for over three months I wrote haiku on a regular basis: single, double, cycles. It was huge fun and I am still amazed that I stayed in as long as I did. This ten verse cycle is from that challenge. The task was to write ten verses with one repeating line in each to the prompt "Halloween" or "Samhain."

Blossom of summer

ripened to rich harvest gold

as the wheel comes ‘round

Damp, cold, and fall mists

creep in with bounty’s decay

as the wheel comes ‘round

Mortality knocks

beckoning our acceptance

as the wheel comes ‘round

WORD ASSOCIATION HAIKU THROWDOWN IS UNDERWAY!

Stephanie Mesler at A Poet's Progress issued an invitation weeks ago for people to participate in her first ever WORD ASSOCIATION HAIKU THROWDOWN Challenge (see her site for the details). I signed up! Lots of writing to do these days and haikus help me flex my muscles.

ROUND ONE ~
Right off the bat, I received the first challenge round. Of course I am knee deep in a chicken soup malaise, so getting started was a challenge in and of itself. But respond I have ... passing the baton forward to the next contestant. The word challenged with was "Dig"

As some know, I am no longer capable of writing a single piece to a prompt. Here's the first haikus I wrote, reflecting how I am feeling today ...

A dig in progress, North Pit, Alcoota fossil site, NT ~ by Mark Harmon

Too much to resist
the snide turning of the knife
not satisfying

I know it is there
spoon digs deep into the cup
noodle triumphant!

Here was my official response - "Dig"

Find what lies beneath
mineral, vegetable
or of the spirit

Next Challenge: "Beneath"

ROUND TWO ~

And on we gooooooo . . .
The word challenged with was "Mistake"

Here's one:

Really a failure

or adventures in “what if”

I meant to do that

Here was my official response - "Mistake"

Two thousand mistakes

brought Edison to the light

incandescent fails

Next Challenge: “Light”

ROUND THREE ~

Swing yer partner, change up order . . .
The word challenged with was "Hope"

Bird song announces
new light, new day, a fresh start
warm plate full of hope

Next Challenge: "Plate"

ROUND FOUR ~
Ah! Now the attempts to stump begin …
The word challenged with was "Due"

That which is my due
is what I owe to others
kind, open, respect

Do what is due too?
do you believe it is so?
give to give alone

Here was my official response –

Man wanders and walks
guaranteed only a chance
due no time, no thing

Next Challenge: "Chance"

ROUND FIVE ~
This was a toughy as I couldn't quite decide where to go …
had to quiet my brain and relax - watched Kung Fu Panda, and it worked!
The word challenged with was "Mind"

One upon one more
thoughts multiply, complicate
requires mind stillness

Open up ones arms
embrace all that can be
this no one can mind

Here was my official response –

Deep, swirling green thoughts
imagination run loose
pranks of a dark mind

Next Challenge: "Loose"

ROUND SIX ~
The word challenged with was "Win"

The game all around
ambition, intrigue, ego
play is not to win

Luck, chance, or a whim
takes the skill out of the win
so what did you learn?

Here was my official response –
Change of heart and thought
to win as an exclusion
is a state of mind

Next Challenge: "State"

ROUND SEVEN ~
The word challenged with was "World & State"

Look around my world
what do I really control
an elusive state

ROUND EIGHT ~
The word challenged with was seven verses total, one each for "Red" "Orange""Yellow""Green""Blue""Indigo""Violet"

"Colors"

A swell of brightness
is passionate one moment
and angry the next

Always looking up
a hue of optimism
or just the surface

Color to cheer you
sunny aspect quickly turns
running away fast

Growing hue of leaf
abundant, verdant but then
jealously guarded

Color me loyal
color me true and steadfast
changing to coldness

Exotic mind hue
intuit and contemplate
it is addictive

Expansive color
imagine all that might be
yet impractical

ROUND NINE ~
The challenge word for this round is “breath” or “breathe,” the verb OR the noun (used in any tense, conjugation or declension). We are challenged to create a single verse haiku using the word, breath or breathe, in all three lines of the poem.

Breathe steady and sure

sound of my breathing with yours
breath stolen by you

Fire flames breathing out
imagine the breath in mind
just embers breathe in

Here was my official response –

Quick and sharp the breath

breathing in cool, ripe, crisp air
breathe the rich autumn

Challenge word – “ripe”

ROUND TEN ~

The challenge word for me this round is “die”

Thousand little ways

can chip away, crack apart

live instead of die

Here was my official response –

Choose how you will die

in pieces, drawn over time

or only the once

ROUND ELEVEN ~

A ten verse cycle, with one repeating line each verse. Theme: halloween or samhain.

Blossom of summer

ripened to rich harvest gold