dark night of a poppy said, Princess Haiku

deep inside the
inky-maroon poppy
all the carnal sins
she made while
loving him

Pamela A. Babusci (5/23/13)

Henri De Regnier walks in a Spring garden of long ago...

A flower meditation excerpt
Henri De Regnier

In the woods you will find lungwort, with its violet
and wine-coloured flower, the leaves verdigris, spotted
with white, hairy an very rough; there is a holy
legend about it. The lady's smock to which the the
saffron butterfly comes; the light crowfoot and the
black hellbore; the hyacinth which one crushes easily,
and which, crushed, has sticky brightnesses; the evil
smelling jonquil, the anemone, and the narcissus which
makes one think of the snows of Swiss mountainsides.


Translation by Amy Lowell

a torrent of pink wind said Princess Haiku

This beautiful poppy bloomed and was torn apart by strong winds an hour. -The vulnerability of delicate beauty.

Aphrodite lost in a flower, said Princess Haiku

to Aphrodite of the flowers

"leave Krete and come to this holy temple
where the graceful grove of apple trees
circles an altar smoking with
frankincense"

opaque highlights weave said Princess Haiku

sunset lotus in a pool of light said, Princess Haiku

on solitude said, Princess Haiku

One does not find solitude, one creates it. Solitude is created alone. I have created it. Because I decided that here was where I should be alone, that I would be alone to write books. It happened this way. I was alone in this house. I shut myself in-- of course. I was afraid. And then I began to love it. This house became the house of writing. My books came from this house. From this light as well, and from the garden. From the light reflection off the pond. It has taken me twenty years to write what I just said.

Excerpt from
"Writing," by Marguerite Duras

"The Graveyard by The Sea," Paul Valery

Paul Valery



Excerpt

The Graveyard By The Sea

This quiet roof, where dove-sails saunter by,
Between the pines, the tombs, throbs visibly.
Impartial noon patterns the sea in flame --
That sea forever starting and re-starting.
When thought has had its hour, oh how rewarding
Are the long vistas of celestial calm!
What grace of light, what pure toil goes to form
The manifold diamond of the elusive foam!
What peace I feel begotten at that source!
When sunlight rests upon a profound sea,
Time's air is sparkling, dream is certainty --
Pure artifice both of an eternal Cause.

Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence,
Palpable calm, visible reticence,
Proud-lidded water, Eye wherein there wells
Under a film of fire such depth of sleep --
O silence! . . . Mansion in my soul, you slope
Of gold, roof of a myriad golden tiles.

flower heart, said Princess Haiku

She slept within petals
of a fragrance that held her
as close as eternity and as
gentle as a cloud...


Diane Dehler

dark interior of a flower's soul said, Princess Haiku

a dazzle of flowers said, Princess Haiku

I discovered these bright flowers in the butterfly house at the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers. It was as though they had wings of their own, so brilliantly were they colored.

a mysterious atmosphere said Princess Haiku

I captured this image in the butterfly display at the Conservatory of Flowers today. So often things are not what they seem and the atmosphere of this exhibit belonged as much to midnight as butterflies do the sun.

a pale flower said, Princess Haiku

a pale flower infused with the most perfect passion.... Love is in the clarity of the moment. These poem fragments are my imperfect gift...

Diane Dehler...The Lotus

time stands still but trees do not said, Princess Haiku

Things are never what they seem and even ghosts find constant change disconcerting on certain days. Today for example I prefer to be in the past but the past cannot be found. What is a ghost to do?

Andree Chedid

Andrée Chedid is a poet and novelist, born in 1920 in Cairo from Lebanese parents. When she was ten, she was sent to a boarding house, where she learned English and French. At fourteen, she left for Europe. She then returned to Cairo to go to an American university. Her dream was to become a dancer. She got married to a physician when she was twenty-two, with whom she has two children: Louis and Michèle. Her work questions human condition and what links the individual to the world. Her writing seeks to evoke the Orient, but she focuses more in denouncing the civil war that destroys Lebanon. She lives in France since 1946. Because of this diverse background, her work is truly multicultural. French is her native language and her choice for her writings. However, her first book was written in English: On the Trails of my Fancy. She has commented about her work that it is an eternal quest for humanity.


The Final Poem

A forge burns in my heart.
I am redder than dawn,
Deeper than seaweed,
More distant than gulls,
More hollow than wells.
But I only give birth
To seeds and to shells.

My tongue becomes tangled in words:
I no longer speak white,
Nor utter black,
Nor whisper gray of a wind-worn cliff,
Barely do I glimpse a swallow,
A shadow's brief glimmer,
Or guess at an iris.

Where are the words,
The undying fire,
The final poem?
The source of life?

by Andree Chedid


Biography from: Wikipedia.org

orchid tears glisten in sunlight said, Princess Haiku

a heart lotus emerged from darkness said, Princess Haiku

Sappho's dream of black wings

Thanks to Classical Wisdom

hidden flora most fascinating said, Princess Haiku

Lily pollen, maiden ferns, amber lotus petal, streaks of cerulean blue and human desire. -In pursuit of a new day and shadows for my ghostly lens.

yellow lotus pond
and saffron stars...
we paddle the canoe
gently between
the constellations

Pamela A. Babusci
Tanka Splendor Award
A Thousand Reasons

orchid cloud gentle morning said, Princess Haiku

pink infinity said Princess Haiku

Return to Tunisia, Tahar Bedri

excerpt


I Call You Tunisia

I
I heard your voice at daybreak
Like a scarlet dawn
Giving birth in darkness
The years’ turning back
On themselves
Rocking the ebb and flow
On the shore of a sea
At once full and empty
I caught your light
Lost a thousand times in the distance
A thousand times recovered
Beyond fog
Beyond dreams
Against the drowned reefs
Your calling saved me from shipwreck


II
I mended the nets of your dreams
Gnawed down with use
Days without sails
Masts and oars confounded
On overgrown shores
One falls, the other rises
Nights when the wave escapes
Heavy and light from the backwash
That far-off song
Carrying memory off
Fire and flame against forgetting
Will you tell the sun not to set
On habits’ horizon
The longer the night
The less bright the awakening

Tahar Bedri



Read more: http://wordswithoutborders.org/article/i-call-you-tunisia#ixzz2Om5x7aMU

beauty awakens in the water garden said, Princess Haiku

adorned in natural beauty a flower of the hour said, Princess Haiku

an imperial and perfect pink said, Princess Haiku

a muse of Orchid said Princess Haiku

I had the pleasure of visiting the SF Conservatory of Flowers on Saturday and captured some orchid photos to share. It was barely fifty degrees and very foggy. Wish I had worn another layer; it was as chilly as a Summer day. Non the less had a magnificent walk through the garden. It is with wonder that I enter the garden, the paradise of April- to explore the gifts of Spring. Princess Haiku various flowers said, "Capture me, no me, I am the epitome of beauty." Perfect moments of life are often the most simple... And as elusive as the passing hour.

a secret grace said Princess Haiku

more than a bud said Princess Haiku

poppy on fire said, Princess Haiku

For: Diane Dehler


fire-orange poppy
ablaze with passion
i pluck its
fever-hot petals
& place one on your tongue

Pamela A. Babusci (4/23/13)

Congratulations to Skylark, said Princess Haiku

Congrats to Skylark on their first inaugural edition!!! Also happy to say that one of my poems is included. It can be purchased here:

a school for ghosts, said Princess Haiku is fortunately impossible

Akhmatova's Orphans Auden Group The Beats Black Arts Movement Black Mountain poets British Poetry Revival Cairo poets Castalian Band Cavalier poets Chhayavaad Churchyard poets Confessionalists Créolité Cyclic poets Dadaism Deep image Della Cruscans Dolce Stil Novo Dymock poets Ecopoetry The poets of Elan Flarf Fugitives Garip Gay Saber Generation of '98 Generation of '27 Georgian poets Goliard The Group Harlem Renaissance Harvard Aesthetes Hungry generation Imagism Informationist poetry Jindyworobak Lake Poets Language poets Martian poetry Metaphysical poets Misty Poets Modernist poetry The Movement Négritude New American Poetry New Apocalyptics New Formalism New York School Objectivists Others group of artists Parnassian poets La Pléiade Rhymers' Club San Francisco Renaissance Scottish Renaissance Sicilian School Sons of Ben Southern Agrarians Spasmodic poets Sung poetry Surrealism Symbolism Uranian poetry


Thank you Wiki..

magenta splashes bewitch said Princess Haiku

poetry, flowers and Charle's Baudelaire's self portrait said, Princess Haiku

PARIS | Thu Apr 18, 2013 2:08pm EDT
Reuters - The discovery of a lost self-portrait of Charles Baudelaire has rekindled interest in the 19th century French poet, revealing a lighter, painterly side to a literary "enfant terrible" known for his dark, erotic poetry.

The drawing, overlaid with pale brown watercolors, shows a three-quarter view of Baudelaire with what appears to be a red scarf tied around his neck. Sketched in the background are a naked woman, silhouettes of men and a dog.

The drawing surfaced when curators at the Cite de l'Architecture museum were looking through a collection of art objects found in the workshop of French sculptor Adolphe-Victor Geoffroy-Dechaume, a contemporary of Baudelaire's.

Museum curator Carole Lenfant was digging through the Geoffroy-Dechaume stash for an upcoming exhibition when the loose sheet caught her eye.

"There was something about the eyes and the way it was painted," she said.

Convinced it was by Baudelaire, she began a quest to confirm that it was indeed a self-portrait.

image







flowers of rarest bloom
proffering their perfume
mixed with the vague fragrances of amber

Charles Baudelaire



Charles Pierre Baudelaire was a French poet who produced notable work as an essayist, art critic, and translator of Edgar Allan Poe. His most famous work is, Les Fleurs du mal. Baudelaire influenced a whole generation of poets including Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud and Stéphane Mallarmé among many others.




It seems as though it were just yesterday that I took dear, Charles a black orchid grown under glass and nurtured with tincture of moonlight, said Princess Haiku. A ghost poet has just too many friends to keep up with...

sea within an orchid, said Princess Haiku

flower of orange whirlwind said Princess Haiku

lost in petal said Princess Haiku

Inside and outside dreams said Princess Haiku

a cloak of petals & lace for the ghost ball said Princess Haiku

if only I too were made of sunshine said, Princess Haiku

white mist rising by Pamela A. Babusci

white mist rising
around the pond
i seek out
blue lotus perfume
clinging to your nakedness

Pamela A. Babusci
kernels journal April 2013

always nature's beauty said, Princess Haiku