she purrs like a cat (free verse)

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14

she purrs like a cat
she meows like a cat
she snuggles,
rubs her furry body
on your legs like a cat,
she eats my plants like some cats,
loves to get petted…
scratched behind her ears
…all like a CAT
but she CANNOT HUNT like a cat!!
I fear she is a princess
of Siberian heritage
she seems to want to play with that thing
that makes me jump when I see it,
makes me scream like a girly girl!!
that thing that runs so quickly I cannot
catch…sigh!…and so I sleep with the lights on
until this itsty bitsy tiny creature
is out of my home.

© Oliana Kim, 14/10/21

pays Bleu Lavande

I rarely write fairy tales but this Fairytale prompt  #30 spoke to me at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

Photo by Kristy Mitchell

They say that when you die, the heart stops, all brain activity ceases, hence you also stop breathing on your own. We all know that there are “lives” after physical death but they differ depending in which camp you grew up, who brainwashed you or you were led to believe as a conscious and intelligent adult, what happens after you die.

There are not that many, I am afraid that are familiar with le pays Bleu Lavande. It overlooks the Kookum* Mountain, in the Mauve region. It rains only at night, and it NEVER snows. Yes, indeed, this is the what we call le quartier trois-saisons. Spring, Summer and Autnew (short for AutoRenewal). The latter season being the shortest. It used to take longer but in the dawn of technology, even the heavens slipped into temptation. Why not? That way the lavender fairy, Mauve, is allotted one month between seasons to get out of the musty archives and run free like the other lucky mortal souls.

Bleu Lavande – Fitch Bay, Eastern Townships, Quebec

She is long overdue for a rest as you can see in this photo. {sigh!} She is somewhat of a tax collector, working for Revenue Lavande. She decides who is accepted to run freely in the meadows of lavender and who need to be diverted to other places like Laurier Rose*, the overcrowded Hell, swarming Purgatory and Heaven, but the latter is not she who decides. Those who can go straight to Heaven by-pass all the other worlds. Now back to pays Bleu Lavande.

Indian Yellow Oleander Shrub

Mauve greets freshly dead people and recognizes the scent of innocents and the scent of exploiters. Some men and women arrive at her field of lavender as teens,  middle age, older adults or even young children BUT if they were victims of any kind of abuse, they magically resume the look of that youthful person in body, shape and age. If, however the person is a misfit who did cause any abuse and destroyed the innocence of children, that person is automatically sent to Laurier Rose…no need to overcrowd Hell.

Laurier Rose is set also on a hill but not as majestic as Kookum*. It has several ponds where there is settled water and many many mosquitos who travelled from West Nile; there are many beehives and farmers who make honey for the inmates of Laurier Rose. And they all must live on honey, leaves and stems of this plant and pond water. Naturally, most do not live very long and it is never overpopulated.
At pays Bleu Lavande you see children running through meadows, laughing, smiling and embraced by the love bestowed at Kookum Mountain like the warmth and love of a grandmother.

© Oliana Kim, ’14/10/20

Bleu Lavande – Fitch Bay, Quebec

*Kookum = grandmother in Cree
*quartier trois saisons = three season region
*Laurier Rose= RoseBay or Oleander

According to NYTimes Health Guide: Oleander poisoning occurs when someone sucks nectar from the flowers or chews leaves from the oleander or yellow oleander plant. Poisoning can also happen if you eat honey made by bees that used the oleander plant for nectar.

Dear Emma,

I sit here and hear the cries of my neighbour’s  Spaniel. He is surely traumatized having passed an entire year where the owners were never there…off to Europe on some work contract. Only a neighbor now and then or the landlord would take him out. So sad to hear unhappy animals with undeserving owners. I suppose it’s like parents who think it is their “right” to parent when it is, in fact, a privilege.

My previous post made me smile as I was composing it. I had mentioned to my friend Georgia from Bastet and Sekhmet that Klimt had been inspired by Kandinsky and she had written a lovely post , Shades of Kandinsky. It is interesting how wild and eccentric Kandinsky’s art is and yet Klimt in later years created softer forms but the colours in his paintings are exquisite and perhaps that was the influence of Kandinsky.
I felt warm and loved and beautiful for a moment, Emma, as I reminisced of times a decade ago. How time has passed with so many mixed emotions since that affair and yet, since only short lived heartaches.

I’ve met darkness, joy, death, birth of another generation, emptiness, gloom and the slow death of mom’s mind; I’ve met compassion in its truest form and feel more in tune with my spirituality. Why then, if I’ve met peace and goodness do I still battle the darkness? It is separate from my work for there is joy and sadness each day as I hear of abuse and then smile when one shares their first crush or asks “ What if he wants to kiss me?”

Yes, my work is reality …good, bad and the grey in between and as I mentioned in another post, I prefer to say a pearly grey for there is hope and radiance in that tone.

I suppose it is being halfway past autumn and soon the colour will disappear and the darkness overtake with bare trees and shorter days. I found a lovely piece by Chopin I think fits my mood just about now, Emma. Thanks for listening… Oliana

This is such a lovely piece that it inspired me to write a haiku…

(haiku)

fallen leaf
led by destiny’s flow
season’s end

© Tournesol ’14

visit also Tournesol dans un Jardin
also Tournesol at Blogspot

Frédéric Chopin – Classique, Sonata no.9

“The Kiss” Gustav Klimt

© Clr `13

I discovered this artist in a 1991 movie, where the main character was giving his lover, Julia Roberts,  history of the art of Gustav Klimt.  A former lover gave me a reproduction of “The Kiss” and a vase made in Spain

© Clr `14 - The Kiss by Gustav Klimt
© Clr `14 – The Kiss by Gustav Klimt

I looked at this painting by Klimt for years,
used to dream of spending an entire night like this
in the arms of my lover, a warm embrace,
tasting soft lips,  that perfect tender kiss…
a former lover offered this painting “The Kiss”
as a gift on my 50th birthday
cherishing how I could spend hours
dancing to sultry music, breathing kisses
feeling the heat of his breath
on my neck and my shoulder,
lifting me on his two feet…

Ah, I was slight, then
at barely five foot eight
wearing only size eight

sweeping me off my feet
mon amant, my love mate,
holding me closer to his chest,
looking  into my eyes
I was mesmerized
ah yes, “The Kiss”…
makes me reminisce
of fantasies I’d once craved
since that film in ninety-one
now true deeds,
fond recollections
shall not forget, of times passed
such sweet memories
will forever last…
even though I still miss
that tender warm kiss.

© Oliana Kim, `14/10/18

 Dying Young – Gustave Klimt

Getting in shape (SoCS – free verse)

Well I was looking for a prompt, a photo or something for an excuse to just write or bitch or vent. So I thought of checking out Linda’s blog for SoCS and “shape” is a pretty fun word to play with. I am quite relieved I can stop shopping now and just go with the flow…

Shape
I’m not in
the greatest shape
or frame of mind
this lovely sunny autumn weekend,
week of abuse and exploitation
sexual assault and desperation
unspoken truths
newly disclosed
no longer whispering
icky secrets…
relieving hearts, minds and souls
at last they may even start
to get in better emotional shape;
hopefully this may be a start
of shaping up and getting help
but then again,
help comes in  different shapes and sizes,
professional, free and confidential
but anonymity is still the best!
it bothers me to hear some stories
I know will never change their lot
can only help them learn to live
endure unhealthy living homes,
accepting that they’ll rarely change
shapes of abusive caregivers…
can’t change the way they think or act
but maybe, I can help these youths
change their reaction
towards their folks
who tend to be much too demanding;
they could surround themselves
with positive, caring
and helpful friends
encouraging them
to keep their minds
in healthier shape…
it’s not a miracle
I know that much
but I have to hope
may cause a dent
to help them cope.

© Oliana Kim, Oct 18/14

The Friday Reminder for SoCS – “Shape” with Linda G Hill

Crashing Cranes (free verse)

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie – Paper Cranes

tables cleared
of tasteless meals
music purrs
 archaic reels
chess board set
 at window seats
young and old
 no difference here
myriad time
old fools may check
but seasoned vets
know better yet.

Garde Louise
calls out “craft time”
several follow
like cattle do
herded in to
craft some art.

artsty tools
paint brushes too
easels, clay
and water colours

Marc  sets his easel
brushing strokes
of black on black,
mirrors of his darkened soul
shaded over many years
with spiked grape juice
apple, orange,
they`re all the same
tasteless food
bland juices too.

Sylvie sits crocheting bonnets
blues and pinks and yellows too
trying to erase the past
justice for missed-carriages

Émile who’d battled
so far away
a brave peacekeeper
now led astray
 since coming back
a little rattled
he witnessed things
no human should
and now he dreams
in living colour
and drinks his juice
no one the wiser.

today he sits
with shiny paper
gold and silver
 building fragile
paper cranes
with yellowed fingers
from nicotine
his mind may linger
and flash a scene
then cranes come crashing
all over the floor
until Garde Louise
will start to pour
some orange juice
of moody blues
and rainbow cranes.

© Oliana Kim, ’14-10-18

Photo Challenge #30 Crashing Cranes at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

Black swan (free verse)

Black Swan

Black swan
pulls me back
with surging
emotions black
filled with despair
searing for reprieve
writing seems to be
my only breaks
between times I
feel such pain
in mind and soul
watching the bitter ache
constant struggle
not to eat any sweet cake
bathroom scenes
remind me only
of constant fight
they live sans food
body image and the rude
awakening that life
without purpose
but mostly lacking
spiritual meaning
is dying a little each day
no matter how you try
no matter
how much they hurt
cut, starve, burn,
you will never get the part
you have craved
with all your heart
until you find your way.

(c) Oliana Kim ’14-10-17
Inspired by the movie Black Swan…only watched 20 minutes of tonight but I was not in a good frame of mind to appreciate it;
browsing Netflix for FUNNY…like The Wedding Guest…a bit of reality mixed with authenticity.

light of the stars (haiku)

Oliana @Tracesofthesoul:

Carpe Diem #584, Amanogawa (The Milky Way)

Originally posted on Tournesol dans un Jardin :

cat braves the cold,

light of the milky way

catches a mouse

~

glares with spite

silhouette beneath the stars

the owl hoots

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem

View original

scent of pine trees (Tan Renga)

Oliana @Tracesofthesoul:

Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #54, Ese’s “fingertips”

Originally posted on Tournesol dans un Jardin :

The goal of this Tan Renga Challenge #54 at Carpe Diem is to write a second stanza of two lines (classical syllables-count 7-7) towards the haiku by Ese. To make the Tan Renga complete … but  this haiku evoked so many memories, I could not choose only one so I am posting them all.

Our host’s completion

fingertips
stroking scales of pine cone
-forest memories © Ese

sunlight strokes my naked body
blankets have slipped away
© Chèvrefeuille

and now my attempts:

fingertips
stroking scales of pine cone
-forest memories © Ese

tap dancing on a tin roof
a lazy sultry afternoon
© Tournesol

fingertips
stroking scales of pine cone
-forest memories © Ese

kindling scents of woodsy pine
clumsy kiss of innocents
© Tournesol

fingertips
stroking scales of pine cone
-forest memories © Ese

lips softly brush my shoulder
like wings of a butterfuly
© Tournesol

View original

grey duvet (free verse)

20141016_135116_Android (2)
(c) Clr ’14

sun invades her despair

wish to wallow

one more day

drown in darkness

wrapped in grey duvet

offering solace

in its bleak way

STOP! she cries

“leave me be

my cave and me

do not fret for me

I breath my own pace

vigour found my sordid way

under my trusting grey duvet”

(c) Oliana Kim ’14-10-17

20141016_135116_Android
(c) Clr ’14 Original photo

The collector

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

 

Cleaning Greg`s room would be a challenge …so many memories, yet it was time. He was graduating next month. The key to the top drawer of his desk was taped under the desk. Sounds of seagulls, waves splashing and sirens blaring engulfed her. Placing each item on the bed, images of her past swallowed her with such pain. She knew what she had to do.

The following month, a handsome young man ran up to her with cap and gown, hugging her. “Hey, Mom, thanks for coming”

“Congratulations sweetheart, this is from your father and me.”

(c) Oliana Kim, ’14-10-17

Friday fictioneers – fiction under 100 words

Falling prey

 

SOURCE

The ferry docked and people were rushing to get to the concert at Parc St-Louis. Angela noticed a young girl wandering and heard a woman shouting “Emily!” from behind her. Right then, she saw a suspicious man approaching the child and feared she might be falling prey to a dangerous situation.   She knew she had to act quickly and her  instincts told her she was right in acting now.

Angela took off towards the girl, screaming, “Emily, sweetie, your mommy is right over here.”

 

© Oliana Kim, ’14/10/16

Five Sentence Fiction

 

The mysterious gift (part 2)

 

SOURCE
SOURCE

 

Rosie leaned against the railing looking out to the sea, “We’re almost there…any regrets about last week?”

Angela kept staring at the waves in silence although her soul was rejoicing, her heart was weeping. Sometimes one has to make choices for the greater good but how does the heart mend?   Looking out to the horizon, she wondered if this gift she had would ever make her feel good.

Rosie put her arm around her cousin’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Ma chère Angela, the first ones are always the hardest but think of tous ces innocents qui se sont épargnés.*”

© Oliana Kim, ’14/10/16

*all the innocent people who were spared.

Five Sentence Fiction – Horizon

I saw this prompt this morning and thought it worked well with another prompt I wrote for last night, at 3-Word Wednesday :

1- The mysterious gift

3- Falling prey

The Mysterious Gift

Angela was loved by all her classmates, she was so smart and always willing to help. Students always tried to sit next to her during a test…she was that smart! But she was also gifted with a special power she was not aware of until cousin Rosie would some day tell her.

Rosie emigrated from France only a few years ago and moved in with Angela’s family until her parents came to Canada to join her. They got along immediately even though she was always so intense in her demeanor. Everything was so absolute…if it rained, she would moan like an actress from the ‘50’s “Oh but to suffer through such darkness, I am cursed!” After awhile, Angela grew accustomed to her dramatic outbursts and actually found them entertaining. You could never get bored with Rosie Chapedelaine.

One long weekend, her parents needed a break. They had been working at their travel non-stop for months and felt they could trust a seventeen year old with her nineteen year old cousin for three days. So they left for the Caribbean. That is when Rosie told her about her special powers.
Angela was turning pages of a directory of universities in North America. She was graduating this year and was not yet sure what to choose for her major. It was a toss up between social worker or lawyer.
“I don’t know anymore…gee even criminology looks good to me!” she threw the book on the floor exasperated.
“So why not add police officer while you’re at it…or maybe join the R.C.M.P. With a degree in criminology they would take you.”

Angela looked at Rosie questioningly. “Huh? Okay, Rosaline Marie Chapedelaine, come out with it! What are you trying to tell me.” Angela knew her cousin had a difficult time getting to the point.

“Remember the Natalia case?”

“Good Lord, how could I NOT remember, we saw news bulletins for six months. R.C.M.P. and Toronto Metro Police. Poor Natalia, they never got to her in time but at least they caught the scumbag.”

Rosie reminded her that when they showed family and friends of Natalia, Angela had picked out the man who had kidnapped and assaulted Natalia months before he was ever questioned. She just said she had a feeling he was just “off”, somehow.

She shrugged her shoulders, “So what, it was a lucky guess. What is your point, Rosie!”

Her cousin told her about her special gift that was handed down to Rosie’s great-grandmother’s sister, Sister Marie Therese who was a nun at the Sisters of St Joesph of the Sacred Heart. She worked in an orphanage and uncovered a scandal of sexual abuse by one priest and several brothers in the parish. She managed to have the bishop shut down the parish and send these men to a remote area in Russia. Before Sister Maria died, she gave the gift to her niece, Rosie’s grandmother and she then gave it to Angela at her baptism by touching her forehead and whispering a prayer.

Angela stared at her cousin dumfounded. “So I am gifted…with what?”

Rosie smiled, “You’ll figure it out soon enough. Now, if you were a police officer or detective, you would be able to sniff out lots of perverts and put them in jail until they rot.”

to be continued…

2- The Mysterious Gift, Part 2

3- Falling prey

© Oliana Kim, ’14/10/15

3-Word Wednesday – gifted intense rot

Dear Emma,

 

Emmmmaaaaaa!!!  I am feeling prickly today!

Feeling grumpy, irate, raging, wanting to spit, seethe, scream and yet all I can do is allow my fingers to race across this keyboard.  It does not seem enough but will have to do to keep my sanity.

Why must one get caught up in the web of insecurities of incompetence? What word can relieve this frustration I am feeling? Shouting, hitting, punching,…take that….and that POW POW!!…nope that doesn’t work, I’m not a physically violent person…I’m a real chicken actually.

Oh I know where this hsitty feeling started…on the bus…a lady sat down on my backpack without waiting for me to remove it (um and she saw it…it is HUGE!) but what really bothered me was that she  reeked of some floral perfume my grandmother would not wear. Well, I can’t really say because I am so sensitive to scents that something you might find is a delicious scent I may be gagging…so I opened the window …not good…it just drew her scent under my nose. I finally had to give in and use my inhaler…and keep my hand covering my nose and mouth as politely as I could until we got to the Métro.

As soon as I got off the Métro, I chanted my mantra…over and over to put myself in a good calm place …walking through the field in back of our building (my new short cut) and it helped for a while until now.

There are some office politics that may be getting to me…correction, I am allowing it to get to me…when will I ever learn?

I don’t like being in a bad mood especially with the work that I do…maybe certain scents trigger something in my brain…ya think?  Emma, I think I may be losing my mind…

Thanks for listening… and I am feeling less like spitting at someone or punching a hole in the wall…now that would hurt since it is cement…haha…I made a joke…that`s a good sign.

The cure of this was writing and listening to funky motown…Marvin Gaye is not singing, Lets get it on…oh baby, I`m in a good place now: (goofy smile)

© Oliana Kim – 2014/10/15

 

 

 

concrete soil (haiga)

I`ve been taking a different route to work lately.  I get off  another Métro station. And this is what I saw yesterday. I was pleasantly surprised to see how some seeds must have blown in the wind and flowers were growing near concrete walls and roads. Cool!

sunflower
humble among concrete
autumn sun

(c) Tournesol ’14

Featured Image -- 12399

hot juke box (haiga)

Oliana @Tracesofthesoul:

Finally, I will be writing my Tournesol haiku at my old WP blog which used to be Cher Shares. That way I only have to write it once and may have to stop blogspot…too much work doing it twice. Here is a post with 2 prompts from Carpe Diem Haiku Kai – One on Fireworks and one on Pop Culture. It is a bit of a risk but one must at times. Hope you enjoy it.

Originally posted on Tournesol dans un Jardin :

I could not wait to find a few moments to attempt this prompt Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #29, “Pop culture references in haiku and senryu”. from our host’s Ghost Writer, Jen from Blogitorloseit trying to think of some song, a fad, something that could have a hidden meaning within my haiku and then I saw the prompt for Carpe Diem #581, Hanabi (Fireworks).

I started multitasking between phonecalls at work and surfing YouTube for samples of fireworks from the International Montreal Fireworks we have every summer. That is held on Saturdays and Wednesday…how I got caught many times on the Jacques Cartier Bridge on Wednesday evenings coming home, forgetting it was that time of year only to be turned back to take the tunnel Louis H. Lafontaine…not my happiest nights nearing midnight.

I will show a small glimpse of only 2 minutes of the fireworks just so you…

View original 387 more words

masked beauty (haiga)

Originally posted at Tournesol dans un jardin, haiku on “inner beauty”

Our host wrote:

smiling geisha
hides her beauty behind a fan
and her white face

her white face
the rule for her class of beauty -
no Inner Beauty

© Chèvrefeuille

I too loved this story, although I fell in love with this character moreso in the book; the movie could not include details that allowed the reader to actually feel, taste, smell and hear her inner beauty. Perhaps, when I read a book, I must not see the movie until at least ten years later. But without comparing, in the book I became this woman in her training, her hardships and her onerous grooming.  Here is my attempt to this prompt in the same vein as our host on Inner Beauty…of a geisha.

Wikipedia

Somber geisha
masks each breath,
inner beauty

~

inner beauty
hidden element in grooming
of a geisha

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #582

drum circle (haiku)

First Nation’s People
chant to the drum,
heartbeats
~
heart beats
all nations connect…Pow Wow,
living circles
~
living circles
within this universe,
all are one
~
all are one,
listen to the drum
heartbeats.

© Tournesol ’14

Squamish Nation Pow Wow 2011 FULL REGALIA First Nations Native Dance in Vancouver

Haiku Horizons “drum”

nature’s drums (haiku)

October skies hang
over billows of grey,
thunder bolts drum

~

works frantically
tune of robotic drums,
woodpecker

© Tournesol ’14

Haiku Horizons “drum “

Dear Emma,

Dearest Emma,

What a great Thanksgiving dinner I had! I used to be blessed with one son, one daughter, one grandson…now I have a son-in-law (marriage is an option for many Quebecois) and total of three grandson all ranging from 7 to 10 years old. Now how great is that? And the youngest fella who never met me, woke up at seven Sunday morning, rubbing the sand out of his eyes, asking my daughter, “Est-ce que c’est aujourd’hui que nous allons manger de la dinde?” smacking his lips. The little guy is a foody!!

I had set up an extra television in the hallway in case some wanted to watch a movie, others play the Wii…thinking that sometimes three’s company. But nope they were great together. I had bought them each of bottle of liquid soap to make bubbles outside, thinking they just might find this childish. Nope again! When I came outside to offer it to them, their faces lit up! Too Cool!!
My daughter and I have been a bit distant in the past three years but slowly “getting there”. Last night she hugged me real tight for a long time and whispered, “…love you, Mom”…well, I can hardly see the screen right now with this blurred vision but I am bursting with love and joy right now and had to share it.

Emma, everything was perfect. My son did the honour of carving the turkey and well, that wi:) jll always be his job from now on…he is grrrreat! I always make a mess. My ex was yapping away and enjoying the company and it was just so nice to see everyone just being themselves and having fun. At one point the boys were giggling and I asked my daughter, “Does this have anything to do with human anatomy” and she nodded. Haha, that is the age I get testy calls from youngsters. Something in the line of, “Um, kids keep laughing at me at gym I the locker room,” then they hold back a giggle and just snicker, “they say I have a small weenie”…more laughs. And I respond, “Um, you mean they think your penis is tiny?!” …burst out laughing and then CLICK.

So seeing the boys on the floor giggling and having trouble catching their breath, made me smile.

After cleaning up, washing pots and pans, put part of the turkey carcass in a pot with water to make soup, I fell asleep on the couch for an hour and finally went to bed and slept 12 hours! I had not slept in days, so it felt real nice.

However my sleep did get interrupted in the middle of the night by a MEOW and a paw with claws nudge my forearm to pet her; poor Bette! I had set up the guest room with all her toys and things but the guests arrived before I had a chance to put her there with the door closed. She hid somewhere the entire evening and was probably scared silly with the racket we were making. She is afraid of children. So that middle-of-the-night nudge was payback…poor kitty.

© Oliana Kim, 2014/10/13

Ghosts of melodies

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo Prompt – Friday Fictioneers – Writing a narrative inspired by the above photo under 100 words.

His hand shook putting the key in the lock; he took a deep breath, and turned the knob. It was surreal! He hadn`t seen his father in five years, since he’d left to go overseas. He’d stored all his valuables in this tiny room.

Ward sat at the drums, tapping a beat with his thumbs…his dad would chuckle when he did this when he was a kid. He scanned the room slowly, hearing a sound at each instrument, a melody his father had composed. Tears blurred his vision…his dad would never be back from his Tour of Duty.

© Oliana Kim, 2014/ 10/11

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo Prompt – Friday Fictioneers – Writing a narrative inspired by the above photo under 100 words.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is a time to host family and friends and share a warm meal. Eating ( one of my fav things) is a social event for me. The preparations are labours of love, setting the table all nice and just right…setting up games and areas for grandchildren to play and of course I prepared a loot bag for the kids…a Halloween loot bag I mean. Can`t wait to have them take away those goodies cos I have been sampling them all week.

I would have loved to have the time to see my mom especially this weekend as it is GrandMaman’s birthday October 13th. In 1899, Friday the 13th, she was born and it has always been a lucky number for her…she did live to 93 years old and only the last three was she in her own world. All things considered, having NOT even had bypass or taken heart medication, she did pretty darn good! I wonder if it was that little mug of beer every day or a shot of brandy now and again…hmm :) She worked every day of her life in the service of others. She took my mom, my sister and me in when she was 67…no income, just a meagre social security cheque but she made it work. My mother had no income, having stopped working suffering depression and my father never supported us.
GrandMaman cooked amazing meals using many of her garden vegetables, she sewed for us so we would look “swell” and no one was the wiser. Most of my peers thought we were well off, always dressed nice, the latest hairstyles (it helped that Mom was a hairdresser). She was my mentor and role model. At fourteen I wanted more spending money to go to dances without asking, and that`s when I started cleaning houses once a week and later worked at a summer camp. I preferred the youth camp to cleaning though.

I am grateful to have had family who loved me and never hesitated to show me or tell me. I am grateful for having my children who live near me now, my grandson and now that my daughter is involved with a fella with two boys, tomorrow I will be a Nana to 3 grandsons! I am grateful that the entire family is together on special occasions and that my children have both their parents together always at these dinners.
I am most grateful for still having my health to work in a career that fulfills me spiritually, intellectually and emotionally. I feel privileged to be there for some youths who struggled with life and embrace the fact that they trust me and our service to reach out as they do.

I am grateful I met the most compassionate woman through a caring family…a son who inspired me to write, his mother who facilitated my visiting Amma :)

I’m grateful for my lovely Bette who fits in so beautifully in my life…
and I am grateful to have discovered blogging…writing is wonderful but alone it is not as enriching as in a community of amazing people who have embraced me and taught me…and still teach me.
Happy Thanksgiving!

Oliana Kim, 2014/10/11

tailspin of life (haibun)

http://th00.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2010/224/b/4/WHIRLWIND_OF_FEELINGS_AFREMOV_by_Leonidafremov.jpg
Whirlwind of feelings – Leonida Fremov – Deviant Art

Sittin’ on my clock with Otis.

sittin’ on my clock
with Otis and Van Houtte
mind spins

Otis Redding-Sittin’ on the dock of the bay (lyrics)

Body aches, mind is swimming with piles “keep” and “trash”, I sit here with a cup of Van Houtte, listening to Otis Redding “(sittin’ on) the dock of the bay. Since yesterday I have been cleaning my place for Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. I’ve made three trips to the market…still need a few fresh vegies that I’ll get at that new Thai Foo grocery store nearby. I’ve learned to be creative since my car died, finding spots here and there that in walking distance OR along a bus route. The majour spots are in walking distance and so I can walk slowly and always have my flexible cane in my backpack…just in case.

© Clr '14 BFF
© Clr ’14 BFF

Now if only Bette’s tail would stop flapping over my keyboard. Yes, she is still doing it despite the daily brushing. At least by the third song, (Let me come on home) I am more  relaxed. I so remember dancng to that song back in the day {triple sigh!}

I love to write. I love to read, take pictures, walk on different new streets and avenues but housecleaning is NOT my forte. I always say to myself it is fortunate that I have company from friends and mostly family so I keep the place acceptable. However when I am hosting a majour dinner like Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter…well, I take that opportunity to declutter and brave that “guest room” turned into storage room. I am almost a hoarder…Okay, I’m a bit of a hoarder. Again, if it were not for having company, I would be much worse. And having moved from a house to a condo to an apartment, I have given away lots of stuff. Thank goodness for life changes!

…but, yeah, there is always a reason, right? Hoarding is like pulling weeds…they keep popping up whether you like it or not. I gave furniture away, but did I get rid of my files and files of workshops I have given? It took me 10 years to chuck my university term papers, so, you get the idea, right?

After my new life (post divorce) I received many cards from friends and family when I moved six hours away for more than a decade…yep, still have those and that was 18 years ago. I kept telling myself, I would do a huge collage with my sendoff and well wishes from friends. Friends and colleagues who cringed at the thought of such a move away from family and friends, but still cheered me. Many lived vicariously through my experiences…they rarely cared to hear about the loneliness but enjoyed the explosion of blossoms dormant for 30 years. Some even said, including my mom, “I wish I had had the courage to do this.”

I saw that pile in my sorting yesterday. Triage of a lifetime isn’t easy. If I closed my eyes maybe I could just throw it all away but if I open that file and read one sentence, I sit down on the edge of the bed and think to myself, “Wow, this is good…I could write a story about this!”. Why do I keep it? Everyone prepares for lectures and workshops by surfing the internet or digging files they have on their hard drive …those papers are collecting dust. Am I right? Ah, I found another spot to store them one more season, maybe there is a reason…right?

© Oliana Kim ’14

Triage of a lifetime isn’t easy.

going in circles
triage of  lifetime
ends at start

&

life cycles
season of rest
hides in the dark

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem #580 Wheel of Fortune

Six Word Saturday

Sunday Scribblings “Music”

clutter and cat tails (free verse)

feels like there is cement
in my shoes
weights at my feet
cobwebs in my head
clutter in my mind
making me move
ever slowly…
and once I get some life
urge to write a little
my bff * gets in my face
tail flaps on my hands
upon my keyboard
whatever am I to do?

© Oliana Kim 2014/10/10

Bff * best feline friend

sex, sensual…sigh (SoCS)

Caroline Michaud, Photographe

To be truthful about this SoCS thing, I must also be transparent. So what is the first thing that comes to mind when seeing the letter “s”…sex, sensual, sexual, sexy, seductive and seducing. Now, as I type those words I see images flashing by me, some I can share here but most I cannot…oh but the opportunity to fantasize and relish in the bliss of carnal desires {sigh} is quite pleasurable.
Rather than try to write some erotic poem, perhaps I will describe what makes me feel like a sexy woman…yep, even at my age.
– that subtle gaze when sitting at a café
– a gentleman opening the door for me
– a male friend walking me to our table for dinner and gently placing his hand on the small of my back…(triple sigh) OH, SIGH is also an “s” word and that goes a long way describing so many wonderful experiences!
– wearing a nicely fitted dress that shows my curves in just the right places makes me want to wiggle as I walk…well, actually wiggling is a genetic trait, even if my mother went a little overboard sometimes
– having that special someone gazing into my eyes as if he can see glimpses of my soul
– talking with our eyes as we dance a slow sultry dance
– feeling our hearts beat as we dance in the night
– feeling his hand brush mine and finally holding it as we watch a movie
– silk stocking that feel soft and sexy on my legs
– having my special guy put sunscreen on my shoulders, my neck…the small of my back
– skinny dipping late at night with the sounds of cicadas
– feeling my long hair gently brush my shoulders and my back
Well, there is more for sure but this is where my pen stalled…perhaps I was in la-la land for a while.

Friday reminder of SoCS – Stream of Consciousness and the letter to inspire us to write is “s”.  Oh thank you, LInda, for allowing me to dip into lovely reveries.

© Oliana Kim, 2014/10/10

mindfullness (haibun)

Richelieu River Rapids, Chambly, Qc.

Our children grew up in a town along the Richelieu River, in a Fort town, Chambly, Quebec.  At the end of the day I often biked to the rapids to unwind and reboot for the next three hours after dinner.    It was amazing what just a few minutes pouring my day into the roar of the rapids did!   I would bike back filled with so much energy and yet an internal calmness.

(haiku)

Spirit stirs
inhaling mindfully,
river rapids

© Tournesol ’14

Aquarius, Carpe Diem #579

daylight loss (haiku)

 

grass buried in leaves

mourning loss of daylight

squirrel finds shelter

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem Special #111, Shiba Sonome’s 2nd “dogs howling “

flying home (haiga)

Originally written toCarpe Diem “Sparkling Stars”: # 8,Kikaku’s “in the rays of the setting sun”, our host at Carpe Diem has posted this haiku (the first stanza of the Tan Renga, also known as “hokku”) as a Tan Renga challenge. Tan Renga is a two stanza poem with 5-7-5 and 7-7 syllables (5-7-5-7-7).  Unlike a Tanka written by one poet, Tan Renga is written by two.  Poet One writes the  5-7-5 and Poet Two completes 7-7.

To see completions of this hokku or take part in this challenge, go to Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #53 “flying home”

Since I am the author of this hokku, I shall turn this into a Tanka to complete my original thought.

Sunset July
© Clr 2014

power-driven fowl,
in rays of a setting sun
flies home
gliding on moonbeams
journey’s end greets dawn

© Tournesol ’14

tag you’re it! (haiga)

Playing with leaves

Carpe Diem Haiku Family, where we were asked to write a FUN haiku celebrating autumn!

Here is our host’s haiku:

the laughter of children
resonates through the park
playing with leaves

© Chèvrefeuille

children squeal
diving on a bed of leaves
tag, you`re it!

(c) Tournesol ’14

tainted (haiku)

http://www.londoncounsellingdirectory.com/counselling-2/counselling-can-help-background-sexual-abuse-child/
Counselling can help child sexual abuse

repugnant conduct
compulsion rules his scruples
 robbed innocence

singing, Farmer-in-the-Dale
naïve to such perversions

self-harm releases
venom from her tainted soul
deflowered teen

(c) Tournesol ’14

Photo credits: London Counselling Directory

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie – Heeding Haiku with Ha – addictions

cheval blanc (shadorma & elfje)

MindLoveMiserys Menagerie – Bastet’s Shadorma Photo Challenge

(shadorma)

Violins
harps and mandolins
angels stringing
melodies
sauntering in harmony
le cheval blanc

cheval blanc
with lovers do prance
romantic
reverie
ambling in slow circles on
their merry-go-round

(elfje)

multicolours
fantasy fair
knight courting maiden
wishing I was she
delirium

© Tournesol ’14

*******************************

Elfje originated in the Netherlands where it is used to teach young children to write poetry. The Elfje means Elven or Fairy poem from Elf meaning elven or fairy and the suffix “je” meaning little. The form consists of 11 words spread over 5 lines.
Hot to write Elfje:
An Elfje counts as five sentences.
Line 1. One word. This word sympolizes a colour or feature. The word symbolizes the atmosphere.
Line 2. Two words. These are something or someone with this colour or feature.
Line 3. Three words. Giving more information about the person or the object. You describe where the person or the object is, who the person or what the object is, or what the person or object is doing. This sentence usually starts with the word “he” “she” or “it”.
Line 4. Four Words. Here you are writing something about yourself in relation to the person or the object. This sentence is your conclusion
Line 5. One word. This word is called the “Bomb”. It is the essence of the poem

blood moon (haiku)

I wrote this in the wee hours waiting for the skies to clear but no, Mother Nature was in one of her moods not allowing me to peek at the man on that huge Red Blood Moon. And this haiku was written in hopes to see this… Was supposed to post for this Full Moon Poetry Party but I forgot my poem on my laptop and brought my tablet to work (sigh)

(haiku)

sky breaks for the night
a meteor shower
toasting blood moon

© Tournesol ’14

Originally posted at my blogspot, Tournesol dans un Jardin

The Man on the moon

The moon sent me a message – he even winked
at me and hid behind a few dark clouds
playing hard to get…
And then the man on the moon
spoke using Barry White’s tune:

“Lady, you don’t need
a male when you have me!
Why waste your dreams and hopes
on mere mortals?

Let me be your first
your last, your everything.

And most of all
those lines you write
in wait and in hope…
STOP wasting those strokes
or precious indigo ink
on mortals who can’t see,
least of all even appreciate
those lines that you state
in awe, in want, in haste
in love and in lust.

Let me be your first
your last, your everything.

I’m always here
you can count on me,
to read and feel
all your narratives
and oh, Lady,
those superlatives!
composed in your mind,
heart and soul.

Let me be your first
your last, your everything.

The images and reveries
of your dreams however,
are hot and sizzling
nothing like the dribbling
tame lines you paint
out on here.

Let me be your first
your last, your everything.”

Me:
“But it’s in the wanting and hoping

the longing and yearning
that inspires my muse
Mr. Man on the Moon,
I think I best refuse

but thanks just the same
for this offer that came
when I might have marvelled
at your beauty so regal.

P.S. Stop eavesdropping on my dreams!”

© Oliana Kim, 2014/04/30

Barry White – My First My Last My Everything 

the moon and I

Oliana @Tracesofthesoul:

Thought I would reblog this in honour of the full moon…

Originally posted on Traces of the Soul :

OK 2014
OK 2014

The moon kept me company
on the drive home
he would speed up ahead
just a little
checking the traffic
the safety of the highway
perhaps he squinted
that time to slow down
just a tiny bit
and what did I see
split seconds as I checked
the cruise speed at 97 kph?
Phew, a patrol car
had his radar out
and I smiled to myself
“I’m just fine!
just following traffic.”
the moon shined brighter
smiling at our ruse
and when I arrived
he hid a tad, shyly
behind his puffy shade
but I caught him peeking
again
and snapped a shot
to keep me warm
tonight…
that man on the moon
may make me swoon
some night
my heart goes pitter-patter
just a tiny bit faster…
…maybe tonight IS the night
{grins}

© WI 2014/05/12

View original

Would you be insulted?

Would it be insulting if I handed out a packet of tissues to someone who keeps sniffing…a runny nose?  I sometimes put myself in their place and remember how I felt when I had run out of tissue and wished I could find a tissue fairy on the bus or Métro. Would you be insulted?

I`ve offered mints, gum and cough drops on the buss to hacking coughs in the past and that seemed to be welcomed….

…so would I insult someone if I offered them a packet of tissues?  Would you?

© OK 2014/10/07

waiting (free verse)

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14

waiting innocently
not knowing
waiting obediently
kept in the dark
waiting a fortnight
telling oneself
it will be alright

waiting, waiting
illusions in time
fester, twist,
turn on a dime

waiting, waiting,
worries to fears
smiles to tears

waiting, waiting,
still not knowing
vulnerable,
so damn small
meaningless
powerless
in this realm

finally, time is near
pay up … Ka-ching $
now you can go here
waiting, waiting,

press squeeze
don’t breathe
Press squeeze
squeeze, squeeze
don’t breathe
Relax…wait some more

Wait – wait
More vulnerable
than before
flimsy wrap
missing a back
seconds are hours
minutes are days

Wait – wait
screens glow
camera action!
movie shoot
with ultra sound
relax
all is benign

you can breathe again
breath breathe
until
the next time

© OK 2014/10/07

Lunar eclipse…info

Canada.com

So I checked this link here  to find out at what time the lunar eclipse would be visible here in Montreal.  Now that would be between 4 am to 7am.  Hmmm, given that I usually get to sleep at 4am…I may try to have a catnap before and then try to snooze before going to work. But that is all fine and dandy…IF it is too cloudy, I may not be able to see anything.  Well, I say, let’s think positively.

We have had heavy rain, hail, heavy daunting clouds and now it is sunny, so, I wager it will be just fine.

© OK 2014/10/07

howling wind (free verse)

© Clr '14/10/06
© Clr ’14/10/06

the wind is howling
like ghosts in the wild
the moon almost full
shaded with floating clouds
the wind is howling
like ghosts in the wild

way too spooky to sleep tonight
wind scares me, keeps me uptight

the wind is howling
like ghosts in the wild

way too spooky to sleep
even if I keep counting sheep.

© Oliana Kim, 2014/10/06

a single sunbeam (Tan Renga challenge)

I love this tan renga challenge. Mark’s haiku is beautiful. It can be translated in many interpretations, one of autumn leaves a natural street art…graffiti.

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14  two blocks from my work

 

When I see the sun setting on the rooftop at work, I see the sun took centre stage for a long time, is now graciously bowing and allow twilight to take over and the finale act…city nightlife. I can see the lights looking like sparking stars just below the burnt orange well where the sun has dipped for the night.

 

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14  rooftop of our offices

I have decided to add my piece both in English and French. Our office building as well as many on our street are tagged with gangs’ calligraphy as well as airbrushed art on other buildings.

a single sunbeam
scribling runes on fallen leaves -
autumn graffit © Mark M. Redfearn

between the colored leaves
the first page of Genesis. © Chèvrefeuilles

With that in mind, this is my attempt to make Tan Renga complete:

 

© C.L.R. `14 Street Art
© C.L.R. `14 Street Art  near my office

 

©Clr '14 Street art
©Clr ’14 Street art across the street from the office

a single sunbeam
scribling runes on fallen leaves -
autumn graffit © Mark M. Redfearn

golden star whispers goodnight,
street gangs prepare their night art © Tournesol

le soleil chou hotte bonne nuit
bandes de nuit préparent leurs arts © Tournesol

 

Posted by Oliana Kim 2014/10/06

Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #52, Marke M. Redfearn’s  “a single sunbeam”

 

 

uncertain sky (haiga)

© Clr 2014
© Clr 2014

uncertain sky,

hunting for autumn colours

underfoot

© Tournesol `14

Haiku Horizons “sky”

Posted by Oliana Kim, 2014/10/06

mating call (haiga)

© ChevrefeuillesCarpeDiem - Veranda 2014
© ChevrefeuillesCarpeDiem – Veranda 2014

love has no bounds
despite the blazing heat,
cicada sings

gasping silence
broken,  cicada
flicks her wing

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem Time Glass /5, Cicadas

perhaps the last stanza should be:

even in silence
seduced, one hears
…flick of her wing

More on Cicada Call here

Posted by Oliana Kim, 2014/10/06

omelets Chez Claudette

© Clr 6:00 a.m. Oct 14
© Clr 6:00 a.m. Oct 14

Simone packed her things carefully taking her time before leaving for the Métro.

The sun had not yet risen, and she was able to push her cart with ease despite the cool damp autumn rain. She met Roselyn at the door sorting out her Métro papers to give Jessie. They each had an exit to work the hurried commuters that would start at 5:30 a.m.

In about four hours, she and Roselyn may have just enough money to fill their hungry tummies at Chez Claudette with the best omelets, baked beans and roasted potatoes.

© Oliana Kim, 2014/10/06

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