The doors of Istanbul and Ibrahimpasa

What a variety of modern and ancient doors to see in Turkey! They are portals to unseen rooms in my imagination.

Drinking Boza.

One of my friends had recommended a place called Vefa Bozacisi. It's one of the oldest boza bars in Istanbul so I set out to find it on my last day there. After many wrong turns down backstreets in the University district a local finally pointed the way. Boza is a fermented barley drink that is served with cinnamon and often accompanied by a bag of dried garbanzo beans. To me it tasted a bit like apple sauce..it was thick and like nothing I have ever experienced before.

The establishment was old and charming. A portrait of Ataturk and one of a mosque adorned the walls, The room was full of students and older well-heeled patrons. I highly recommend the experience!

Boza sprinkled with cinnamon

Istanbul

I have been in Turkey for almost two weeks. It is a magical place, a visual feast, a  collage of

sounds, smells and tastes. I am smitten.

Writing for Hugo House

I just finished the 30/30 writing challenge to raise money for Hugo House. I surpassed my goal and raised $300. 

Haiku written during October 2014 Hugo House, 30 minutes of writing for 30 days

diane tchakirides

October 1

I am the only person in this café

Without a tattoo

my marks are all on paper.

October 2

The clouds were pink puffs
at sunset in a red lined horizon

end of day driving home

October 3

Five stems of orange

chrysanthemums, one by one, 

petals falling down

October 4

These days heavy petting
happens mostly with the cat
I need a boyfriend

October 6

I’m catatonic

With a cat on my lap, my

medicine is purrs

Oct 7

Silver disc in blue-black sky

a Basho moon makes

night shadows beneath the trees

           

October 8

A raygun filled with stars 
shot me in the heart and I wept
a thousand moonbeams

October 9

A misty peace rolls in 

with some clouds and the tide
two lovers take a sunset selfie

October 11

The Foxy Lady

Latte stand sells sex in a

Double D tall cup

October 12

Though flatulent and

prone to snoring the beauty

loves her bulldog beast

October 14

I remember a summer 

day with a dog and a man

swimming in a river

October 15

Writing is tough stuff

Practice leads to habit then to flow.

Words find their place in line.

October 16

Morning luxury

at the kitchen window  with

sunlight streaming in

October 17

Her tan lines fading,

Summer, hops a hayride and  

blows a kiss to fall

October 18

It’s not poetry

or is it? The sound of the

rain in October

October 19

This is crap, I suck

at writing says my head, don’t

listen says my hand

October 20

I like to say words

Out loud, Coriander sounds

spicy on my tongue

October 21

this going to work

is surely overrated

trading life for money

October 22

Morning eyelash kiss

a wet nose nudging my face

Kitty wakeup call

don’t have much to say

today so I won’t say much

‘til it’s tomorrow

October 23

hot pink sari with

gold threads running through

streets of silk and fire

October 24

For Louis Collins

He prefers travel

to islands but only those

you haven’t heard of

with names like Penang

and Mauritius. He returns

with stories to tell

October 25

Will the result be

different if I write by

hand or computer?

October 26, 2014

The wind blew through last 
night and stole my oak tree's coat
of yellow and red

October 27

Farmer's market foodporn:
purple potatoes andrainbow chard

I weep with desire
for the absinthe caramels
and twice baked croissants

October 28

Reclining in the
bathtub looking at pretty,
pink, bubble wrapped toes

October 29

Full on autumn now
where did the hummingbird go?
to the land of bloom?

October 30

I'm rollin' with it

this poem, this chapter, this life

could be over soon

October 31

The vampire came
and I offered my neck but ‘twas

Candy corn he wanted

the end.

Brunch at Bastille in Ballard and the Sunday Farmer's Market

It was a feast for the eyes and stomach today in Ballard.
Here's today's Haiku:

Farmer's market food
porn: purple potatoes and
rainbow chard

I weep with desire
for the absinthe caramels
and twice baked croissants

Fall haiku

Her tan lines fading,

Summer, boards the hayride and  

blows a kiss to fall

30/30

I'm raising money for Hugo House by writing for 30 minutes a day for 30 days. I've been trying to write one haiku during the thirty minutes and I'm starting to get in the groove of writing again. After reading The Artist's Way I used to have a daily routine of writing first thing in the morning when I woke up.

I stopped this years ago when the internet started taking over and when I started working full time. It feels good to be putting works on paper again. Here are some samples of my writing so far.

If you would like to contribute to my fundraising efforts for Hugo House you can do so here:
http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/dianetch/3030

October 1, 2014

I am the only person in this café

Without a tattoo

I make my marks on paper.

October 2
The clouds were pink puffs at sunset

In a red lined horizon

End of day driving home

October 7

Silver disc in blue-black sky

a Basho moon makes

night shadows beneath the trees

October 8

A raygun filled stars

shot me in the heart
and I wept a thousand moonbeams