Here’s the Poem of the Week for March 28, 2025. It’s another hai-net, seven loosely linked sort-of haiku that take on some of the characteristics of a sonnet. I have several other poems from this week that I hope to share as well. The struggle of this time is calling forth all our voices. Right now it is crucial that we respond. Courage and love are indeed contagious. We have the power we need if we will use it! Please do!
The poem text is below. It is a first draft written during the week of March 10, 2025. It is another hai-net, seven loosely linked strictly syllabic sort-of haiku that together have some of the characteristics of a sonnet. Please “use your voice, earthlings!”
even short scraggly pines whisper heart longing songs with gods breath in them
ravens on tall pines sound alarms protest loudly silence condemns us
yesterday the stream sang joyful spring snowmelt songs today ice is back
the old activist sings out we shall overcome dying in the wind
nevertheless she persists a grouse hen gives all to save what she loves
estonia rose singing as one for freedom beauty to die for
as long as earth breathes wind will lift her song back up use your voice earthlings
The worst storm rages. The storm poem is a hai-net, seven loosely linked strictly syllabic sort-of haiku that together take on some of the characteristics of a sonnet. The natural storms are signs of collapse or instruments of collapse or warnings or even worse to come. The social storms are intentional attempts to bring down the whole house of our law-based democratic-republic and crush all opposition by any means, legal or illegal, ethical or unethical.
Shakespeare’s play King Lear is a tragedy, and the storms are overpowering, and yet heroic courage and humble love prove to be higher powers. Please be courageous, humble and loving and use your voice even as the storm rages and seems to carry the sound away. Please trust in higher power and do your part to serve it. Thank you!
T. S. Eliot wrote, “…a poet’s mind is…constantly amalgamating disparate experience… [it] falls in love, or reads Spinoza, and these two experiences have nothing to do with each other, or with the noise of the typewriter or the smell of cooking; in the mind of the poet these experiences are always forming new wholes.”
This hai-net series of seven loosely linked haiku “amalgamates disparate experiences” including these: a late fall walk in very dry woods; the election aftermath in our nation; accelerating climate chaos and the possibility of extinction; retirement, aging and not too far out there now, death; John Peck’s poetry teaching fifty years ago; Brian McLaren’s must-read book “Life After Doom: Wisdom and Courage for a World Falling Apart;” Robin Wall Kimmerer’s classic “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants;” David Hinton’s book “Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China;” a love of Taoism; a daily meditation practice; Philippians 4; the ancient Christian contemplative and mystical path of self-emptying (kenosis) leading to transformation of consciousness (metanoia) leading to an increased capacity for seeing oneness and acting with unconditional love (agape) leading to building the beloved, peaceable community of all creatures on earth (koinonia); and separation from a beloved.
The result is, I hope, something that some may find beautiful or useful or both, but it’s just a first draft and first take video, so we’ll see if it sparks anything for you! Thank you! You can find more polished poems on my website at https://thomascarykind… Here’s the poem’s text:
beech sapling brown leaves lush earth ritual dress robe such beautiful death
deep leaved forest floor trees disrobed bare limbs raised up naked prayer of hope
drought makes trees exposed one spark then dry fall leaves flame ghost dance robed in smoke
old monk like fall oak lives by letting go leaves seeds lose life to save life
drought says reduce need loss means grief heart art spark dims hope lost in the haze
beyond hope stands love charred forest of oak loves lost one acorn sprouts green
if there is any beauty love and nurture it let it seed your heart
The poem this week is a hai-net—that hybrid of haiku and sonnet—written well within the ten days of sitting shiva for an election that means the death to some degree of much that I have loved since I was a boy: nation and nature, kindness and peace, love and compassion for all. Still, life is beautiful and sweet, and when hope fails, love perseveres, and will not give up, I promise!
take a last look now hard frost comes to this garden so much goodness gone
dahlia tubers dug sunflowers left out for birds let kale stand and hope
hottest year ever again and again fire ice where does tao lead now
bless young activists the old say bless warrior joy our fall brings their spring
the tao wants freedom health peace rule of spirit love it outlives killers
we feed winter birds we put dahlias out each spring love and hope no end
light the cookstove fire smell sweet garden harvest scents rise from love’s oven
Here is the Poem of the Week for October 25, 2024, a classic Elizabethan sonnet for a week when we need a long historical perspective.
The next ten days will be the most decisive in recorded human history, many believe, more than any battle or single invention, as democracy and the climate hang in the balance–and the amazing thing is, we get to have a part in it! This should energize us and give us joy even as we face fierce opposition and have to spend everything we have, because we can be the heroes of this time in the same line as all the heroes of the past we revere.
And everything–everything–depends on our staying positive and strong and in the light, and using our voice in every way we can.
So here is a poem for this week, first the video and then the text:
They want to make us crazy—fear and hate. They win if we forget our loving care. They lose each time we quiet, meditate or turn to nature to dispel despair. They win when we feel hopeless, paralyzed, as if our love’s cause is already lost. They lose when we keep eyes on all we prized, and keep on fighting at whatever cost. And when they lose, the earth and Spirit win— as smog of lies lifts, inner eyes can see true oneness where all sacred ways begin. Sanity. Joy. Win these and we break free. So when they throw their crazy bait, don’t bite. Reject the shadow side and choose the light.
Here is Poem of the Week, a hai-net–seven loosely connected syllabically correct haiku type poems that work something like a sonnet. It’s partly about the sources we choose to turn to for our perspectives, and how they shape what we value, love and promote–and therefore how they shape our voice. Please use your voice loud and clear in every way you can in these crucial days you have left to shape our future!
This Poem of the Week is under the influence of both great beauty and two great threats–the threat of winter coming and catching me unprepared, and the threat of the results of the election plunging our nation into a terrible winter. We each have our own preparations of the homestead or apartment or heart for nature’s winter, and we each have our own way of working on the election. If you do nothing else, please make a donation right now at https://movement.vote/
This poem is another hainet, a series of seven haiku that act like a sonnet in some ways. I usually revise poems fifty times or more, but these poems of the week are raw. I have done a little tweaking to the poem and to the video, but it’s mostly a first take. I will print the text of the poem below, and I will include what I wrote at the top of the page about this strange and wondrous new form I’ve invented:
These hainets are teaching me as I go. Sometimes they are ladders, and sometimes they are fall leaves drifting down going a little this way and then back and then a little that way and then back before coming gently to rest, and sometimes they are like a fall leaf swirling in a gentle whirlpool in a stream, circling back to the beginning before floating off and dropping to the bottom, and sometimes they are like all of those at once…
nasturtiums crane necks geese fly south high overhead ears cup like blossoms
huge basswood leaves fall yikes platters slide off high shelves gentle angels catch
so many colors red purple orange yellow eyes flit like fall birds
old man wakes fall days alarmed and turns young and strong to stack winter wood
dark purple asters preach wisdom from the good book urge we stop and look
what will make winter good is not just shed wood filled but heart fall light filled
nasturtiums open wide mouths turned to last warm light to drink and to praise
Here is my poem of the week for September 27, 2024. I wrote three sonnets and four of these sets of seven haiku that I call hai-nets, but was a hard week for me personally. I led a memorial service for a 65 year old woman I dearly loved who had many things she still wanted to do.
Some of my poems were about it being too late, and most of them reflected not only grief but stress and lack of sleep–I was also trying to get my winter firewood work done. Then the long stretch of dry weather ended with two days of rain, and this hai-net came out of it.
The loosely related haiku are about many things, but one theme is that it’s not too late. As I say on the video, though, as of November 6th it WILL be too late for what may be the most important world event in our lifetimes, so please do not let yourself wake up that morning feeling sick that you didn’t do all you could.
Please use your voice, and please send the biggest donation you’ve ever made to support the youth and BIPOC grassroots groups that are fighting for their lives in swing states right now, going door to door. They are way underfunded, and they could make all the difference. Here’s how to support them: https://movement.vote/
The text of the poem is below the video:
first fall rain brings joy eases drought eases hard work invites needed naps
no frost yet so rain keeps late garden growth going tomatoes beans blooms
fall rain feels better when the wood is in the shed than when it is not
growth comes to the old monk who uses rainy days for meditation
shelter from cold rain fire to cook and sit beside candles need the dark
welcome rock bottom that hardest pain where we land in that darkest fall
welcome cold hard dark welcome this late chance to grow joy it’s not too late