Tag: Haiku

OUR BIG DIVERSE BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY . . . AND THREE GOATS.

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet and teacher Margaret Simon Here. Thank you, Margaret for hosting. I look forward to what you will be sharing this week.

It’s been important for me to try to maintain optimism with the news the way it is. I’m trying to keep my sense of humor.

So I keep practicing drawing and painting. Can you tell these are goats? It’s rough, and drawing goats was challenging. 

GOATS IN SEVERAL TONES

Three in the barnyard
looking for something-perhaps
a new patch of grass.

© Janice Scully

What if we saw only goats as we walked through the woods? Can you imagine if there was no diversity allowed in the Animal kingdom? No lions or Gazelles? Spiders or snakes?

ALL THE SAME

With no diversity,
everything will be the same,
no strange languages or hairdos. 

With no diversity,
no one will surprise you with
Korean tofu soup or Kung Pao shrimp.
 
With no diversity
there will be no need to ask
"Where are you from?"

With no diversity, or fun,
the only music will be YMCA
performed on Saturdays in bars and ballrooms.

With no diversity, be careful
who you love
outside your door. 

Americans will be forever safe in America.
Everywhere, men wearing masks and 
driving unmarked cars, are ready to protect
you against foreigners and pedophiles--


©Janice Scully 2026

America of course is steeped in hundreds of cultures, to its benefit and longevity. There is no going back, only forward.

To end, below is a drawing and a strange very old poem I found in an old book by Robert Louis Stevenson I copied into my sketch book.

Thank you, Margaret for hosting!

Bird Message

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by poet and educator Robyn Hood Black HERE . I look forward to see what she will share with us this week.

If you want to know more about Poetry Friday, find info HERE.

First< I want to share the postcards I received this week from Joan MacCulloch’s New Year’s exchange. Getting these cards this winter has been one of this year’s highlights, truly up lifting. Thank you Linda Mitchell, Gail Aldous, Carol LaBuzzetta,and Patricia Franz. Thank you again Joan for organizing the project.

Does everyone know about the 50 Precious Word contest Here? Basically writers are to submit a 50 word story, for 12 and under, with a beginning, middle and end. I spent hours cutting words from a story and finding out yet again how many words a writer thinks is necessary are not. I actually found it fun to tackle a prose story again, and not at all sure what I’ll end up with. It was a good distraction from reality.:)

Here’s a black pen and wash drawing from the coast at Pacifica California. I’ve become very familiar with the sand, the rocks, the waves, the ground squirrels and the ubiquitous ravens sitting on fence posts.

Intelligent Raven--
what messages do you carry
for a beach walker?

© Janice Scully 2026

I find these black and iridescent creatures fascinating and apparently they have always fascinated humans. They are thought to act as powerful “messengers, tricksters, and keepers of secrets across cultures, according to Google. . It would seem they are connected to things very deep in the human psyche. But I can attest to the fact that they don’t sit there giving secrets or advice away. One could stand there for a long time and not find out a thing.

Have a wonderful weekend and I hope some warmer weather. Upstate New York is emerging from the ice age slowly.

Thank you, Robin, for hosting.

THE KENNEDY CENTER HONORS

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this first week of February hosted by Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone. Thank you Molly. The name of your blog seems perfect.

I have been thinking, and mourning, the loss of our beloved Kennedy Center. In the late Seventies, I lived in D.C. I saw Andres Segovia, the great master of classical guitar, play there and Julian Bream, another master of classical guitar, both no longer living. I saw the opera Faust by Gounod, and several plays. I lived three blocks away.

I was young, single and working in Washington and since I’d grown up in a small town in a middle class family, the Kennedy Center opened my eyes to the arts. I have wonderful memories of D.C. and to me it seemed in many ways magical. It brings tears thinking of what has happened and I just wanted to remember it here.

One night this week I was transported back to the Kennedy Center by YOUTube watching the Tribute to Paul McCartney at the Kennedy Center. You can find it easily on YouTube if you want to watch it. Below is the link. (I couldn’t embed it.) It was absolutely wonderful to watch. Sir Paul sat next to Opra. Obama was President and the audience was as diverse as America is.

https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=kennedy+center+honors+paul+mccartney+tribute&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:be94c1db,vid:RL76v3qoEeI,st:0

Free images of the Kennedy Center from iStock.

So why does it matter that the Kennedy Center is closed, besides the fact that it’s a memorial to JFK? It matters because Great art heals people. It just does. Life is hard and music and visual art helps us process our experiences and emotions. In times of national crises, we often share it together through art. When the space shuttle burned up on re-entry, President Reagan recited a line of poetry by John Gillespie Magee Jr. and how the astronauts “slipped the surly bonds of Earth.”

I saw an example of how art heals this week at the movie HAMNET. The movie is about the Shakespeare family’s grief over a loss of a child, and healing from that grief through Will’s art. I won’t spoil it, but the ending was magnificent.

My only point here is America needs art and public art and we have to watch treasured venues like the Kennedy Center disrespected and assaulted. Here is a Paul McCartney- inspired haiku.

HONORED BY THE GHOSTS OF THE KENNEDY CENTER

Paul McCartney mouthed
the lyrics to Let It Be--
in his front row seat.

© Janice Scully

The Beatles from an exhibit of McCartney’s photos the De Young Museum in San Francisco.

I hope that after our current national nightmare is over–and I am certain that someday it will be–that The Kennedy Center will be returned to the people of America where it was meant to be. And we will have a lot of loss to process.

I bought a watercolor book with a few exercises. This is an attempt to paint like Turner. I ended up liking this version.

Have a great weekend!

San Francisco and Coit Tower

Welcome to Poetry Friday! Today we are hosted by Patricia Franz on her blog Reverie, which is HERE. Thank you, Patricia for hosting. I look forward to reading your blog and others this week.

I have not been posting regularly because of travel to see my grandson in Pacifica, California. I just returned after three weeks and have too many things I’d like to share. I have been planning to go to a certain site for a while, but last week I finally made it to Coit Tower in San Francisco.

Coit tower was built in 1933 with money bequeathed by Lillie Hitchcock Coit to be used to build the tower as well as a monument that would celebrate San Francisco’s fire fighters. As a young girl she was rescued from a burning building and her life saved by fire fighters. She never forgot it. If you like, see a photo and read more about it Here.

After the tower was built, In 1934 a group of artists employed by the Public Works and Art Project, a precursor to the Works Progress Administration (WPA), filled its walls with murals. They depict Americans doing all kinds of work and living diverse lives. The murals are inspiring, a celebration of workers during the Great Depression.

Part of a mural named FARMER by Clifford Wright (1900-1996)

Part of a mural of industries of California by Ralph Stackpole. These women are canning.

A small part of the mural LIBRARY by Bernard Zakheim (1896-1985) Libraries were an important part of life in the early 20th century.

There was too much for me to take in! There was too much to see. These pictures are a small part.

And this is the view of San Francisco Bay from the top of Coit Tower. Treasure Island and Yerba Buena island are in the distance.

My trip wasn’t all sight seeing, we spent a lot of time with baby Tommy. But would like to report that San Francisco was peaceful, beautiful, and a welcoming place even if it’s a little foggy.

San Francisco Fog

Thick grey fog layers
on ocean, beaches, bridges--
so you feel your way.

©Janice Scully 2025

Halloween is next week and I’m heading to Poetry Palooza at Highlights. It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with a large group of writers, except, of course, on Poetry Friday. Happy Halloween!

Each State Brings Something Different, for Example, Wisconsin and Minnesota

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by writer Karen Edmisten Here. Thank you Karen for Hosting. Karen shares with me a deep love of coffee.

I am happy to say I submitted a poem to the Gyroscope Review this week. It made me feel good to participate. Submissions are open until September 1st, if you happen to be a poet and a woman over fifty.

I have spent a lot of time this week watching YouTube videos on watercolor. I find it all fascinating and isn’t creativity good for one’s mental health? It’s good for mine.

But today I’d like to celebrate our fifty states. Why? Because they are all different and anyone who disparages diversity might reconsider if they knew more about the individual states.

Looking through my phone for photos to paint, I found photos from my drive out west with my husband two years ago. Bart and I rode through a state I’d never been to : Wisconsin was one. Like most states, its citizenry is made up of native peoples and those with immigrant backgrounds. We visited the beautiful capital, Madison.

Wisconsin State House

We also drove through Minnesota. The town of Blue Earth, Minnesota, is the home the Jolly Green Giant, celebrated by a very tall statue. Who knew? He looked oddly like my husband.

I learned facts about Wisconsin on a road sign.

Minnesota facts: There are fifteen thousand lakes in Wisconsin, 65 towns with the word “lake” in them and many more in the Chippewa or Dakota languages. There are 13 falls. The one called Minnehaha inspired the Song of Hiawatha, by Longfellow. There are ten rivers and five rapids, not to mention isles, bays, and beaches. I was very impressed! There are many more facts and I’d like to return. What an amazing state!

I love New York and my home in the Finger Lakes region as much as those from Wisconsin and Minnesota love their states’ beauty.

Last week at the New York State Fair, I visited prize livestock, chicken and rabbits. I met a farmer who told me that a calf gains two pounds a day and eats grains two days after birth. A year old calf I met, weighed two hundred pounds! I loved hearing about his life as a dairy farmer.

Calves at the New York State Fair

If we can see the beauty and understand the history and people in each state, that can only help build respect for our differences. Is that too preachy? 

ABOUT OUR FIFTY STATES

Each one different
in origen and people,
every state belongs

© Janice Scully 2025

Thank you, Karen, for hosting!

Paragliding over the Pacific

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Sarah Grace Tuttle Here. Thank you, Sarah, for hosting!

I am visiting my new grandson, Tommy, having left the beginning of summer in Central New York for the breezy, cool and foggy climate of Northern California. He is three months old and it’s a delight to see what he’s up to. He’s found his mouth with his hand, moving his limbs, watching us. He likes the boardbook, Chicken Soup With Rice, and I swear he’s listening and watching the pictures.

Pacifica, CA, is a great place to walk, though windy and foggy. I don’t mind. Today, I saw a paraglider over the ocean. (read about paragliding here on Wikipedia) I caught this on my phone. The paraglider must be moving thirty forty miles an hour. When they take to the wind, the paraglider can fly, it looks to me, twenty feet or more above the water.


PARAGLIDER

To air gusts 
I alone confide

trusting only the wind
as I glide,

like a splayed seagull
twisting, sliding,

slicing the salt air
above the sea

escaping for a while
the tug
of gravity. 

©Janice Scully 2025

Of course, you can hire someone to take you up in a paraglider, riding tandem. No experience necessary. No thanks! I prefer watching and imagining it, but it must be quite thrilling and one of those experiences like sky diving for those keeping bucket lists.

I bought some colored pencils and paper to draw the wildflowers on Mori Point two miles away from where we are staying. I drew from this photo.

With the help of Youtube videos about colored pencil drawing, I tried to capture the mix of green, blue and yellow with the ocean in the background. I thought the wild flowers would last a while, but they were gone in a week. 

MORI POINT 5/1/25

Wildflowers bloom,
painting the hill in short strokes--
a brief impression.

My husband attended a demonstration to protest the private use of public lands. It was chilly and windy but many showed up and cars beeped. Hopefully we’ll make it to others. The attempts of some to steal our history from us is weighing on me, and so much more. It’s so disturbing! Here’s a picture. The use of public land to build golf courses or hotels, or to drill, will not be taken lightly.

Enjoy the weekend, everyone, and thank you, Sarah, for hosting!

Spring Declaration

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the talented Marcie Flinchum Atkins on her blog. Thank you for hosting, Denise. I did not get to read posts this week and I apologize. I’m working on a poetry collection I had critiqued and now am revising. It isn’t easy, but I’m moving forward, where to, I’m not sure. I am thrilled that I signed up for the Highlights Poetry Palooza this November with Georgia Heard, Rebecca Kai Dotlich, Irene Latham, and Charles Waters.

It’s warming, in the forties here in Syracuse today, The FORSYTHIAS are budding:

The DAFFODILS have arrived:

So I want to declare something. 

DECLARATION BASED ON THINGS SEEN

Forsythia buds
Patches of bright daffodils
I declare it spring! 

©Janice Scully 2025

I feel, like many, that I have so little control over life these days. So many things that I took for granted, maybe too much, are changing. So why not declare something? I do believe that nothing, at this moment, could possibly prove I’m wrong today when it comes to spring. It is definitely coming to Syracuse.

My husband and I look forward to attending a local political protest on 4/5. I’ve never in the past felt as if I was propelled to take a stand against anything, such as DOGE, quite like I do now. This feels urgent and it’s fueled by hope.

My OLW for 2025 is HOPE, and I’ve neglected the poor little word. So here is my first poem.

HOPE

Hope makes you sign up 
Paint a poster, demonstrate,
believe it matters.

© Janice Scully

Have a great weekend. Thank you for posting, Marcie! I look forward to reading posts this weekend.

A President Millard Fillmore Haiku

Welcome to Poetry Friday. This week hosted by teacher and poet Margaret Simon Here at Reflections on the Teche. Thank you, Margaret for hosting!

Ten years ago, I completed a haiku project about the American Presidents. I wrote a haiku or tanka about something specific about each life and a short factoid to fill in a fact or two. I thought I’d share what I wrote about Millard Fillmore, who was born in Upstate New York in a town called Moravia. There is a state park in Moravia named for him. You will find water falls, a swimming hole and walking trails.

Waterfall at Millard Fillmore State Park

Fillmore was President during the Compromise of 1850 which was an attempt to appease the South. Part of the agreement was to allow federal Marshalls to cross state lines to hunt down runaway enslaved people in the North and return them South.

We all know the Compromise of 1850 failed. The South could not be appeased, but the law was tested out:

In October 1851 the Marshalls came to Syracuse to capture a fugitive named Jerry. But famously, they failed miserably. The citizens in Syracuse, white and black, rescued him from jail and spirited him to nearby Canada in an event known as The Jerry Rescue. In the link you can see the sculpture dedicated to this event.

Here’s my haiku about President Fillmore, who is not on the top ten list.

Millard Fillmore


Hate was mounting—why
could you see only money
in a field of cotton?

#13 MILLARD FILLMORE (1850-1853) Mr. Fillmore, failed to see that slavery was immoral. In 1848, he was concerned only about the United States economy and cotton, which, at the time, depended on slaves.
___


This haiku seems relevant today, as everything has a price. The pesky needs of humanity inconveniently keep getting in the way of world peace, as Fillmore discovered.

Thank you, Margaret for hosting. I’ll be hosting next week. See you then.

Weathervane Seagulls

Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the talented Denise Krebs HERE. Thank you, Denise, for hosting!

It has been a busy week. After struggling with a failing laptop, I finally replaced it. So it’s a thrill to transfer my writing to a new computer which actually inspired me to get to work on some revisions. I feel like I’m getting a new start! My non-fiction poetry collection about “Team Digestion” received some needed cutting and a rework of its story line. Now what will I share this week?

Here’s two photos and haiku:

Earlier this winter in California, I would use the seagulls on the beach to tell me which way the wind was blowing. It seems that gulls face into the wind so they can remain upright and not blow over. The wind was so strong it almost blew walkers over. I loved seeing them standing together, all in the same direction, like soldiers.

On a breezy day
Seagulls gather together
To brave the west wind

©Janice Scully 2025

Here’s another sighting. The beach was less crowded, but still, they all faced the wind. 

Seagull weathervanes
—today facing down
a stinging east wind

© Janice Scully 2025

I can’t let my mourning for the loss of respect and decency in our country take the joy from my life. There is no time for that. I am so grateful for my little grandson, Tommy, now already 2 months old and growing bigger every day! I look at a picture that comes every day and feel such joy and hope.

Have a great weekend!

Welcoming a New Baby

I have been away from Poetry Friday since August and am delighted to be posting again. I was worried I’d be too rusty or my website wouldn’t know me. But now as I write, it seems like I never left.

My little grandson was born in a big rush two days before Christmas, eight weeks early, miles away in California and the sea.

So my husband Bart and I left snowy New York

for chilly northern California.

In the December Christmas Poetry Swap organized by Tabetha Yeatts, I received this lovely poem written by Tabatha. She knew I was awaiting my first grandchild.

EMERGENCE
      for Janice by Tabatha Yeatts

A New Baby,
like a sky vibrant
with the northern lights,

draws us together 
where we gaze 
exhilarated

upon this gift--
The world,
Illuminated.

I love “like a sky vibrant.” Every child is so different and each “illuminates” the world in a new way.

But now, on January 31st, Tommy Bartholomew has been with us a month. He was born quite early, and we were so worried! But thankfully, he is fine, and will be able to leave the hospital soon.

I wrote this in response to Tabatha’s poem:

FOR TOMMY B. 

we will watch; 
wait each day
as this new star
marks his path.

Will we understand
what he brings 
from so far away?

We will make sure he knows
he is part of a family
and we have been waiting
breathlessly to meet him
 
in our world of oceans,
rocks, and endless sky.


©Janice Scully 2025


POETRY SISTERS prompt:

Tricia, one of the POETRY SISTERS suggested we write a tanka followed by a haiku in response to it. It was written in honor of the doctors and nurses in the N.I.C.U at California Pacific Medical Center in San Francisco. It was a wonderfully supportive place, kind and professional.

THE N.I.C.U. December 23, 2024

in between two worlds
a tiny boy, eyes still shut,
cannot leave here yet.
kind nurses swaddle and feed,
keep him warm and safe.


sudden arrival!
doctors hustled late at night,
work that never ends.

© Janice Scully 2025

I’ve anticipated claiming a new little word this year and I think it has to be HOPE. Hope for all babies, all families, hope for our country. I’ll see what I can come up with. Happy Belated New Year, everyone!