Belief. Within Yourself ~ #008 April 2014 – Haiga/Haibun Thinking Week #13: Film Week (and) NaPoWriMo 2014

©14 Mandala 2014 One Breath 3 sml 6x



“Some people can’t believe in themselves
until someone else believes in them first.”
– Good Will Hunting


Mandala Spring


we are curious creatures. 

I am amazed by the number of ingenious ways we gather to twist our thinking into motivational intrigues. ingenious intrigues.

our mind is both one of our most powerfully enriching creative tools and one of our greatest stumbling blocks. 

our mind is a great human asset.

whether to rest and sharpen our creative tool, to bring ourself into well being. or. to escape the stumbling block of our own mind, to bring ourself into well being. human beings employ an ever widening range of mental exercises. techniques. explorations. 

counting breath. meditation. works as well as anything I’ve found. better. 

breath counting.

at the same time. one of the simplest things we can do with our mind. and. one of the most challenging to maintain. for even a few moments. until we’ve practiced daily. for a significant. and extended number. of moments. sometimes for years. 

and yet. always. only each day. for a few moments.

and still. all we have to do. today. is try. 

this is practice. the practice. of meditation. of counting breath. this returning to trying. centering. to do this simple thing. counting breath. meditation. each moment our mind. attempts. to slip away. the daily practice. is. to return. to trying. for a few moments. breath counting. meditation. centering. 

for a few extended moments. each day. practice returning. 


breath counting.


in the lingering day
a breath garden


Digital Drawing and Painting

  • 8 x 12 Inches @ 300 ppi
  • Perfect Effects 8
  • Adobe Photoshop Elements 12

This is my response to the Haibun Thinking blog: Week #13 – April 15, 2014 Film Week prompt.

You are invited to respond to the Haibun Thinking blog prompts each week. You are also invited to read the response to these prompts by other writers as well (click on the Links in Collection buttons) and have fun.

This is also my response for several days of National Poetry Writing Month 2014 (NaPoWriMo 2014). I hope to contribute at least one poetic writing each day—although I will post these on my blog only as I post (which currently is about 2-4 times a week).


NaPoWriMo 2014

April 14

NaPoWriMo Prompt:

Today’s prompt (optional, as always) is a little something I’m calling “Twenty Questions.” The idea is to write a poem in which every sentence, except for the last one, is in the form of a question. That’s it! It can be as long or short as you like. The questions can be deep and philosophical (‘what is the meaning of life?’) or routine and practical (‘are you going to eat that?’). Or both!”


This One Red Blossom

is there meaning to life?
does there have to be meaning to life?
is life without meaning frightening?
if life without meaning is frightening, 
     is it the unknown that makes it so? 

has there always been meaning?
is searching the purpose of life?
is purpose the same as the meaning of life?
is there a way to stop searching?

if we search without knowing what we search for, 
     does that count as the meaning of life?
what have you found today?
what have you lost today?
do we organize around the replication 
     of finding again. repeatedly?

where are we—humanity, going?
is the journey the point of humanity?
is it okay to enjoy the ride?
did you search in your thoughts today?

are we going to the stars?
will our star search explode into the universe?
when the wind blows your hat away, 
     do you search for it?
is humanity exploding the universe?

oh. look. 
     a yellow blossom. 
               into Spring.


April 15

blood moon
the distance between memory
and my walk tonight


April 16

 NaPoWriMo Prompt:

This prompt is from Daisy Fried, and the basic idea is to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. Your lies could be silly, complicated, tricky, or obvious.”


No Reason
butter is nice 
     we shake hands
the sun 
          on rain clouds
I can’t understand 
     these tears 
               in pillow whispers
the birds sing of morning 
     in English 
the sound of a wind chime 
      running down
neighbor dogs bark devastation
     against a street strolling cat
          last night at the dinner table
a broken toaster flames out
     round one
seedlings turn cartwheels 
     in the garden
          once each day
I sleep write poetry 
     in the shower 
          each Spring
this time 
     in April 
          I’ve nothing to say 
               not even a rhyme


April 17

lingering clouds
all day I wait for the rain




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