Poet’s Billow Challenge 30:Welcome my dear soul

To my readers who have followed me on this journey – Thank you! This is a journey I have enjoyed immensely, though it has been tough and gruelling in turning a poem out every day. It’s taken me to some interesting places both externally and internally and in many respects, I’ve learnt alot about myself and hopefully it’s engaged you to think about some of the topics. I have used some poetic licence in places. Those who haven’t read my challenges, they’re here whenever you find the time. My only cop-out was a topic on American politics where I substituted with my own topic.

The last challenge is to: write a poem that starts with an end and ends with a beginning.Enjoy and thank you for reading:

The tear wells had dried

as we said our final goodbye.

No more uncontrollable sobs,

no more fumbling for tissues

Just us- walking away…

How could something so

fraught feel so right?

How could something so good

hurt so bad?

Would I ever be whole again?

Months rolled by

but the chasm of pain

was a gaping wound, bleeding

more profusely everyday.

In glimpses of you, I saw the same.

Two souls torn apart,

so many reminders of each other.

We’d always known this day would come

but the reality is not what you plan.

When you called, I learnt how to act.

But time is a healer, I do believe.

We still talk as very good friends.

You were always my confessor,

always knew how to make me laugh,

even when burning in your own hell.

Memories of you still locked away,

only you hold the key.

Funny how we travel the world

only to find,that love was right here

all this time.

Hello new world, the storm has passed.

I’m planting a new rose and calling it

Nouvel Armour!

And when I see you again, I’ll say:

bonjour ma chère âme!

Day 29 Poet’s Billow Challenge:Stairway to the light

The challenge for yesterday, 29th April only arrived this evening. This challenge asks that we give an account of a dream in our poem. I’m a great believer in dreams and the symbolism and messages they offer. I’ve had recurring dreams over the years about climbing up staircases and they’ve been dreams filled with menace and struggle. This poem captures the essence of a dream I had about two weeks ago. Enjoy!

How agile I felt!

Moving swiftly up the stairs,

silver, polished-

gleaming brightly, good as new-

to another floor.

Yet another still,

until the bright rooftop light

beamed on the floor,

spirits lifted, roaming free-

so unlike before.

No grim steel incline,

daunting and breathlessly steep,

no longer afraid-

looking up at distant hope,

a smile lit my face.

Then right before me,

She appeared! we both cringed…

almost took flight!

Choice imposed her will on us

fear dissipated…

A stranger appeared,

lavishly smiling at me.

Then I heard him say:

Move on, do not be afraid!

What relief I found-

In those words he said to me…

Day 28-Poet’s Billow Challenge: What’s in the news?

Today’s challenge : a rant or complaint about something .

Go softly with me tonight

my head aches with all this noise

of suicide bombs – explosions

that fill my head with shrapnel

rat-tat-tat of alms, images, arms

in tatters and mounds- wherever

all over, filled with surround- sound

Go gently with me tonight

my vision has become very blurred,

stop the many words, too many books

information overload, if you please-

stop that tweeting and scrolling

that deedle-de-dumbed down ringtone

Go carefully with me tonight

no more corpses left piled in heaps

no other hungry mouths left to feed

no further adulation of one human being

what about the rest who follow ourselves

no paparazzi flash-shooting our selfies

no platinum albums or lemonade to drink

Walk straight with me tonight

had enough of fake politicians’ lies

thinking we’re stupid and dumb

retorting in silent protest so that

the polls, won’t hear- what lies-

in our hearts, our bottomless soles

lost without the feet of our souls

Day 27-Poet’s Billow Challenge: Love unrivalled

Challenge: Write a love poem

I’m not a star poet, I’m sure you can tell,

Can’t carry a tune to high notes very well

My health’s not been the best that it could

So can’t promise eternal love like I should

But Babe I am yearning to tell you this!

When your metaphor touches my paradox

My locked secrets escape from my black box

The pilot who knows how to steer my wings

Will  land me gently with the joy that he brings

When the DJ starts playing our favorite song

Don’t know all the words,but we’ll sure sing along

It’s not with voices that our hearts now speak

But our feelings tuned into the violin’s  high peak

How your cupid arrow makes me quiver

As your oar canoes me through passion’s river

I’ve loved you throughout the ages of time

For ours is a love unrivalled and  sublime

No other man matches me as much as you do…

Day 26-Poet’s Billow Challenge: Origins of a Trollop

Today’s challenge required me to choose a word randomly (blindly) from a dictionary and write a poem on the origin of that word. This is my take:

She bears the trademark of ancient times

Illustrious tales have told of her sinful crimes

In temples and busy streets, her trade she plied

Many tasted her wine, though publicly denied

She’s a slave, an actress and a Goddess it seems

Depending on era, culture and the age of dreams

Bought and sold to satisfy man’s craves and desire

Sold to the the highest bidder with cash to buy her

Over centuries she’s been called by many names

Courtesan or Trollop, she’s played similar games

As the Geisha girl, the floozy the hussy, slut or whore

Traded in economies,she’s kept men coming for more

Legalise it, centralize it, scrutinize it, banish it! they say

But hypocrisy maintains it, sustains it, even to this day

When she flaunts her kisses freely, it’s called promiscuity

Judge her harshly and ignore the cloak-armed ambiguity

The secret lover, the mistress- are they all the same?

Or is it fame and fortune that determines her name?

One thing is certain, for centuries, she’s been around

All feeble attempts to sink her ship have run aground

Question remains, is she the lady or the tramp…

Day 25-Poet’s Billow Challenge: Solving the puzzle

Today’s prompt is to try a mash-up of lines from  24 poems. Using the poems I’ve written this month, I’ve created  a new poem using a line from each poem. I’ve chosen to select the lines randomly and was left with about five words that I couldn’t place.

Imagination

borrowed extended wings,

flashing, racing, sprinting, mounting,

to chase freedom

in all its forms,

on his canvas-confessional.

I recalled the princess and the toad…

I searched for you

the other half of my soul,

You knew-

It was not ever my intention,

but the scenery has changed,

significantly now.

Kindred spirits hold me captive in words

reminded me-

that pleasure can be found,

felt the floating feeling.

Nothing was impossible if we imagined it!

Take me out of my dark hiding place

to virtual worlds!

With tremulous lips, I touched your mouth

I savoured it, lingered over it.

Come closer,

feel the attraction

through that magical click of mind,

take my breath away!

Perhaps it is time-

to redeem ourselves.

How could we?

Stubbing my cigarette

I sigh-

I don’t think you’ve changed your view…

the mirror has two facesc’est la vie!

Day 24-Poet’s Billow challenge: I apologize…

Very aptly so – this challenge asks us to write a poem of apology.

I’m so sorry for being impolite-

for not eating all you dished out,

especially the decadent humble pie,

served frozen-cold on a paper plate.

I regret that you felt so shadowed-

when I stood up to my full height.

It was not ever my intention

to make you feel so infinitismal!

I’m ashamed of my awful behavior-

for trying to soothe and placate you,

when you were frothing at the mouth-

your rage- spluttering shamelessly out!

Oh how I must unreservedly repent-

for standing in your pathway,

blocking out your rose-colored view,

if only you could and would have seen it!

Above all I am  mournful as I weep-

when I think of the disassembling souls,

convulsively, trembling and shuddering,

when your tornado spirals violently in.

You touched me

You touched

something deep-

buried within,

forgotten, retrieved

from beneath its tombstone.

You asked

me to examine it again-

listen for signs of life,

hear its silent whimper,

resuscitate it with my lips.

You knew

what it would feel like-

how agonizing it would be

since I had buried you within me.

How can I ?

How can I…

Feel the fathomless pit

of your pain,

the tendrils that throttle-

muting your voice

to a ghost of your scream?

How can I…

View the misty horizon

behind your tears,

the fears which squint-

blinding your vision

to a mirage of your dream?

How can I…

Touch the raw wound

that never seems to heal,

the scab keeps peeling off-

exposing your soul

now handcuffed in solitary?

How can I…

Tell you that the sun still shines

after the storm of yesterday,

that today will soon become-

your tomorrow and will present you

with ribbon wrapped choices ?

How can I take your hand-

mark your footprints in the sand…