Read a Little Poetry Everyday


How does she do it?
I ask myself.

I ask myself a thousand
She is so talented.
Her poetry makes me Happy.
Then again,
do her lovely
drawings. Together tHEY make a LOV
ely work of art.

Even during wartime.
I can read her blog and be happy.

to be
sad. I can be happy
MORe happiness after reading her poetry.

ARE people
on theInternet


I wonder
that not our mission?

it should be the mission
of each of us
to exude

For then

and petty

We would

Inspired by Claudia – a truly inspirational poet and artist here upon the Internet. Her work shows us how we can “get together” and “be together” in this world.

Posted at dVerse.

Your Words Count – Thank you Rosemary

I just read Sherry’s interview of Rosemary Nissen-Wade over at Poets United. I love reading about fellow poets, about their lives, their loves, their writing. But this was a special read for me. It awoke me from a long sleep. It made me realize that I have been asleep spiritually for too long. Within my spiritual life it is the normal pattern for me to “live large” then take a nap. But I seem to have fallen asleep at the wheel.
I have not shared this with anyone but my husband hurt himself in April. He bent over, opened the oven door and something like lightening shot through his lower back. He has done many things to heal all to no avail. We have always been travelers and active people. Today he can do nothing. He works daily (something he does with great difficulty). I realize that now I am quite depressed about this life-change and that I must act upon that. So I have two things to do. I must reactivate my spiritual self and I must walk out of this depression.
Now do understand – these things have just now come to me. So I must think about it before I act. So if you ever think that your words do not affect others even on the Net – think again. Roesmary Nissen-Wade’s words have woken me up. And I am so grateful!

while walking the world
remember the many turns
autumn loneliness

So, I right my haiku. The last line initially was “to reach three sixty.” Those words fit both the syllable count and the “sense of poem.” But I then realized that there was no kigo. When writing haiku (something that I have not done for a while) kigo is important to me. “Autumn loneliness” is the kigo. It was also the first upon the autumn list something I thought rather cool.

P.S. Had a great but way too short time with my daughter.

Laura Star Rain

Sometimes I believe that there is an energy, or that there are some sort of threads in the universe that bring persons together in love even if for just moments. I wrote this poem for/about a woman within a fairly loose group of quite fine artists to which I belong, several years ago. She … her icon simply inspired the poem. We have never met. We were not even close. But circumstances made us close in a strange manner, but close none the less, perhaps as artists together. I never showed her this. Her Name is Laura mercer and she is on Facebook. We are connected and I am Liz Rice-Sosne on Facebook. I shall now for I have always felt that it WAS her. Initially I did this with all different sized fonts and letters dark and not so dark along with symbols. I cannot seem to do this here upon WP.

Laura Star Rain

She has dark moments …
She is one

… toying with her flames. Turning the knobs

This way and that … that way and this….off then on……………..


She is all about

color. She must have it.

It … fuels her.

Long flowing
Strokes of sensuous color … watery … rain from stars.

Snails in a galactic state of oceanity

Permutations of ??quarks?? born near

Water hamlets …

Badland flat rocks … for salamanders to dance upon.

Here is one of her whimsical and lovely paintings the sort of which inspired me.


Posted with glee and delight at Poetry Pantry # 164 over at Poets United.

dVerse – Mary’s challenge of Shakespeare’s Seven Life Stages (reinterpreted).

I wish to thank Mary for a challenging and very interesting prompt. An exercise to approach and view, create and review the seven stages of man/woman – according to Shakespeare. Though, to be made uniquely your own, to be done here through haibun. Shared at dVerse Poets Pub “It’s About Time.”

The Seven Stages

Middle Aged

I have long believed that we started out as soul. We enter the womb and begin changing from all soul to souled flesh and bone. As the balance changes from soul to flesh and blood we are ready to enter the world.

soul like autumn wind
worlds away another galaxy
milkweed pods open

A babe is born with cries so self centered and coos so sweet. There is much difference between selfish and self-centered. The new born knows nothing but its own center. Selfish is something that is done from another stage of life. Exploring everything within and without is now the focus. The best thing that one can do is put it in ones mouth.

pod bursts exploding
seeds travel many places
food for chickadees

Youthfulness meant playing in the sun, looking for frogs, going to school, building a fort. There was a time when this was innocence before we made it a competition. Today youth is a competition whether in football, as a cheerleader, skiing or just for better grades. Youth was now. Today it is tomorrow.

bananas hanging
from a tree green yellow brown
picked eaten gone

They say: “Ah to be young again.” I don’t know why, I surely do not wish to raise children again. I know the young have no time, with kids going here and there in an endless stream of activities. Work while not at home, an arduous balancing act of multi tasking. No time for oneself, a hot bath once a small thing now such a luxury.

caterpillar crawling
tomorrow a butterfly

Middle age still a squall, a proving ground for some. Onward and upwards, will you ever get there, is enough ever enough? So little time to become, become what or whom?

basho traveled far
issa laughed much with life
buson painted life

On being old; the body falters. At first an embarrassment, then an annoyance, then who cares? You roll with the punches. Everything surrounding you becomes at once more beautiful and at once more deadly. Many are glad for life. Many are glad for age.

son helping his father
taking his arm walking uphill
who is the father who the son

Now elderly, we are getting closer to soul again, closer again to God as our flesh dries and our bones crack. It can be painful but welcome. Have we yet acquired the wisdom of a lifetime? For wisdom is all that we have to pass on to those who come after; wisdom the teachings on how to live with more ease.

like the drying grape
dropping to the ground juicy
sweet new wine to drink

DISCLAIMER – no use of a kigo in any of these seven haiku.