Draw me out
Suck me in
Take me to the edges
Wedge me in between
Until I come out
Or let you in…
You do that to me…
Month: April 2016
Day 22- Poet’s Billow Challenge: Nature’s cinematography
As a tribute to Earth day and in honor of the earth, write a nature poem. I’ve chosen to draw from a small glimpse of my hiking experiences.
The thudding of my heart
against the soundproof silence,
alone with each thought,
then, just breathing you in.
Entering a stretch of forest,
where the lighting of the sun-
beamed, as if stage-managed,
spotlights on verdant green.
A remote trickling, bubbling-
beneath rampant rambling,
of green celebrity carpets,
tree-shaded, in all shades.
Jungled tendrils, looping-
an acrobat’s rope, poised-
for a daring display to absorb me,
take my breath away!
Mist converging – in descent
until I’m wrapped and cuddled,
in my private whole new world,
the sheer isolation, crowding me.
As I emerge from paradise doors,
I look down from the mountain,
applauding set design and craft,
a mere slice of your production.
Why then would we choose
to hide behind shutters,
shunning the light in rebuff
of nature’s mysterious magic?
Dare we compete in creation-
automated,mechanical worlds,
artificial intelligence and robots
for the Oscar-nominated prize?
Day 21-Poet’s Billow Challenge: Purple Rain
In honor of his musical contributions to American culture, write a poem that integrates lyrics from one or more of his songs. Alternatively, steal one his titles and write a poem.
Shower me
With your summer rain
Soak into my thirsty soul
Come closer, I will submit to your –
Purple reign
Day 20- The Poet’s Billow Challenge: To blog or not to blog
Today, write an abecederian poem. It’s when the first letter of each line follows the order of the alphabet. So, the first line starts with A, the second with B, the third with C, etc. In the end you should have a 26-line poem.
A mounting disquiet all around
Blogging is slowly taking over
Concern that they’re losing me
Don’t spend enough time with them
Even when I’m there, I am not quite
Forever thinking of what next to write
Generous with my time over this
How can I justify to family and friends?
I feel inordinately fulfilled when I write
Joy in reaching all corners of the world
Kindred spirits hold me captive in words
Love discovered in rhythm and rhyme
My soul finds a new form of expression
New understanding of who I truly am
Offers me so many insights into life
Perhaps even realization of my dream
Question is how do I balance my time
Remembering my responsibilities and
Socialising in the real world. I still need
To prioritise time for everyone in my life
Understanding all of this, I still have space, a
Vacuum that needs filling with others like me
Who understand this need too, to break down
Xenophobia’s geographical historical barriers
You and I would never have met otherwise
Zealous in pursuit of this freedom to defend.
Amazed
In the maze of your mind
I lose myself in blind spots
Finding myself in the dots …
Day 19-Poet’s Billow Challenge: My Treasure box speaks
For today’s poem, write a dramatic monologue in the persona of an inanimate object. To stay true to the theme, give voice to one of your old stuffed animals, dolls, trucks–any toy that meant something to you when you were a child, or at some other point in your life. Perhaps the voice will speak about something it has witnessed. Perhaps, like the horse, it will share its wisdom or philosophy of life. I have chosen one of my most meaningful possessions – my Treasure Box to speak:
This is excellent! – the chance to get out of the dark and stand up and speak. Of late, you’ve neglected me. Perhaps it’s because you’ve stored me in a place that you seldom reach. It’s dark up here and life get’s a bit lonely sometimes. There was a time when you tended me so lovingly, always feeding me with food from your soul.
Did something change that caused you to neglect me?
You do recall, that I’m the keeper of so many of your secrets. I’ve looked into your journals and through them, I’ve heard your unencumbered laughter, felt the deep ache in your heart that you never thought would go away. Some of my contents are still dried with your downpour of tears.
You haven’t forgotten have you? Remember that little poetry book that your dear friend gave you when she self published. Do you remember her words in the autograph she wrote for you. I recall how surprised you were to find that poem she wrote for you where her words illustrated how much she looked up to you, the irony being that you always wanted to be like her. You also kept the eulogy that you read at her funeral – Another special person gone too soon. She knew didn’t she, that she was leaving for a better place when she threw that outrageous party on her 39th birthday?
Then, the hymn sheet for your dear mother when she passed on . That hymn sheet is symbolic of so many regrets and sadness for the life she had.
And the bookmark from another close friend whose life was claimed just before she turned 41. She was so beautiful!
Do you still regret moving on with your life when the two of you had been so so close? But beyond the sadness of it all, I know that you kept that bookmark as a reminder of the great times you had together. Remember those Friday evening pub drinks where everyone looked at you because you were the only person of color and she didn’t care. Wasn’t it exactly that rebellious nature that attracted you to her from the start?
She spoke of you fondly to someone just before she went off on holiday – not knowing that that she was leaving never to return after a car accident. Do you still have regrets or have you let it go now?
By the way, I still smell of sage which you spilt on me one day. But perhaps that’s a message for you. After all, I am your Sage am I not?
I am the keeper of your achievements – like that French badge of honor for the work you did, the photograph of your team when you won that special award and some of your favorite birthday and anniversary cards.
Remember how your eldest daughter always drew pictures of mountains and the sun rising behind. That was how she saw the world as a little child. Then your baby girl – you kept her handmade birthday card – the black one with red tinselled hearts. She has always been so creative and now she is wise beyond her years and tries to play the voice of reason for you. Listen to her! She longs for more of your attention and love.
And of course there is that photograph which took on a life of its own everytime you looked at it, a reminder of the best of times and the worst of times, the joy and pain of a great love.
Ah my dear, I’m so grateful that you’ve given me this chance to remind you that I hold your life story, your deepest emotions, your smiles and your tears, your anger and remorse, your unravelling and your healing, your darkest and loneliest nights. But I also hold your happiest delights.
Perhaps it is time for you to take me out of my dark hiding place for a while and decide what you still want to hold on to and what you’d like to let go.
But before I go, I just want to say how proud and honored I am to be the keeper of your treasures, to know you so well and to have been trusted with both your light and your darkness.
I think it’s time for you to decide on adding some new treasures and while you are at it, perhaps you’d like to remove my old sage fragrance. How about a few drops of Frankincense and Myrrh instead ?– in fact, I wouldn’t mind being kitted out with new clothes.
Namaste
Treasure box
Day 18-The Poet’s Billow Challenge: Changing Scenery
For today’s prompt, write a work poem. What’s your typical Monday look like at the office? What’s your dream job? Maybe write a list poem about the contents of your briefcase or toolbox. Are you a stay-at-home parent? What’s that look and smell like? Use the senses and specific diction to bring your job and work to life. This is my take !
Just one experience and I swiftly knew
I couldn’t sit in an office without a view
What exhilaration I felt, speeding along
On open highways, tapping to my favorite song
The adrenalin rush of a crowded space
The excitement and anticipation on every face
As I stood at the podium to announce the line up
Everyone hoping that they’d take the winner’s cup
Then the aftermath, conversations, hugs and cheers
Another chalk up to one of those good years
The scenery has changed significantly now
I have more liberty to the who, what and how
After all these years of answering to a boss
I have no regrets, more feeling of triumph than loss
Now I get to listen to the song of the birds
Get lost in the meaning of the most creative words
Less need to suffer the dreaded Monday blues
In the work that I do and- who? I get to choose
Still get around to the tall glass buildings
Large reception space and lofty ceilings
The realm of power houses and famous brands,
Or driving through small towns and farmlands
I now love to choose from a repertoire of skills
Which ones to use to earn enough to pay the bills
Best of all, is spending more time in the sunshine
Enjoying the fact that the smell of freedom is mine
I know that it won’t always be that smooth and easy
But hoping I only do the things that truly please me
Day 17 – The Poet’s Billow Challenge: The letter
For today’s poem, we’ve been challenged to write an epistolary poem, or a letter poem. An epistolary poem can come in any form and be about any matter. I have chosen to write a fictional letter to myself to be opened on my 70th birthday. I chose a letter format for this reflective piece.
My Dearest Chev
If you are reading this letter, it means that you have reached
your 70th birthday and since my instructions were clear,
this should be your first birthday wish for the day. I hope
your children are throwing a big birthday bash for you.
That was always one of your gripes – that everyone forgot
about your birthday after you turned one because of that terrible incident
at your 1st birthday party. I know you made up for it in how you raised
your family but still – this is an incredible milestone for you.
Enough of the chit chat – I really wanted this letter to serve as a
reflection of your life since I last saw you so many years ago. Did you ever go on
that Santiago trail to Spain? If you did was it good for you? Did you find what you had
been searching for all your life? Or did you return home and find that what
you had been looking for had been right there in front of you all the time?
What about your great dream – to make your life count, to make a
contribution to the world? I know how hard you had already worked
when I last met you. But you were never satisfied were you? You had been
fascinated by those epic dreams – always convinced that your visit to Egypt
and St Etienne du Mont were signs that you needed to save the world.
Did you my dear?
What about your family? Are your children doing well? I always thought
your little one was just like you. I remember how she dressed in your clothes
and she loved your stiletto heels, your sunglasses, your perfume.
Did you both get over that terrible fight you had when she complained that you
were always working?
Oh I have so many questions to ask. Did you meet your dear friend
on the Hudson river, did you Salsa dance in Mexico? What about
Timesquare? You always said that you wanted to see in the new year
with your family amidst the throngs of Time square. Did you ever
get to dance on the table again? You said you were done with fast cars,
did you downscale for something smaller?
But you know the question I’m dying to ask. Did you eventually meet
him – the one you talked about in all our conversations, the one you said
felt like the other half of your soul, the missing jigsaw piece, the one
who broke your heart and stole it back again? Did you find that magic
you were so sure was out there if you just followed the signs? And….
Was it all you had dreamt of ? Did the reality match the fantasy? Oh
my dear, it seldom does,but if you found it, I hope you soaked up the
adventure as you always did in all other things.
I must say goodbye now. Before I do though, I wanted to remind you to open
your treasure box that you filled with all your prized keepsakes over the years.
All the reminders of so many blessings you’ve had in your life and to
give thanks to the greatest artist of all time for making you the
special work of art that I know you still are. Your gratitude may just
earn you another 20 years. But even if it doesn’t, I have no doubt that
in your remaining years, the best is yet to come!
Happy Birthday my dear and above all – let peace abide in that restless
soul of yours…..
Kindest regards
Chevonne
Day 16-Poet Billow’s Challenge: It’s not a fairytale
For this prompt, create a new poetry form. You can focus on rhyme as does the sonnet, repetition of words or lines as do the pantoum and sestina, or subject matter as does the elegy.
Invent the form and then write the poem.
I decided to model my form loosely on the pantoum (Pantoumime) with my rules as follows:
- Poem to comprise of 4 stanzas
- Poem starts with a question that is repeated in each stanza but shifts
position until it is in the last line of the last stanza
- You may alter the recurring question by use of punctuation or emphasis through Italics
- The poem should deal with a perplexing issue
Why does nothing ever stay the same?
Walking down the aisle, fixed with a smile,
Nothing was impossible if we imagined it!
We vowed that nothing would ever change.
Fool to believe that we could keep that pledge.
Why? …. Does nothing ever stay the same?
In this world of looped-virtual, soap opera-reality,
You switched channels on me, wanting variety.
Did someone change the rules while we slept?
Am I the only one feeling cheated and bereft?
Why does nothing ever stay the same?
I thought it was all about us and a happy family,
The years have soldiered on with limping legs,
Patched up veterans standing in old enemy lines,
Reverting to lonely trenches – not artillery strikes.
Why does nothing ever stay the same?
The colour of your name
Now I see
Life in abundance.
Through you, I am so blessed,
Destiny’s guide, my soul-mate, clear as
Crystal!
————————————————————————–
This form of poem is called a SIDLAK – Thank you Quirky for sharing with us.
Its structure comprises syllables of 3/5/7/9/ with the last line being a colour to give you a total of five lines.
The last line must be a COLOUR that describes the whole poem or the feelings of the writer. Life comes in different shades and hues. The colourful the merrier. Try it out with your true colours.
This is a special dedication to my dear friend Christel whom I met 3 years ago on a Jazz train in Switzerland and from the pavement in GStaad, she has been an inextricable part of my life ever since. Christel,you see me as no one else can – in my true colours. With lots of love – Chevvy
Chevvy's diary 