Sunday, 12 January 2014

Poem: The passage

The Passage - Elisabetta Trevisan
we immerse ourselves in flowers, leaves, snow and ears of poppies
all year round we change the way we wear our faces
eternal calmness always rooted deep within
for we know things about where we come from
giving us that motherly wisdom books can't teach
lest we forget a simple call of a rook might evoke strings within
we believe that with every passage we gain life
yet it is forever changing in what it gives and offers
knowing nothing lasts forever, our hearts grieve beforehand
time flows on with no resistance
Written for a poetry prompt at imaginary garden with real toads. The image featured is by Elisabetta Trevisan, you can find her work here: LINK.

Poem: Lighthouse

La Jument, off the coast of Brittany, photograph by Jean Guichard
waves keep on crashin' into the walls
trying to erase things you want to let go
restless nature of your mind thinks
it will find freedom in loneliness
yet it is begging for help, I can hear it roar
no matter how legitimate reasons you forge
no matter what lies you tell yourself
there is no way to push the years you spent
out of your ocean – they happened
and they formed a perfect place
to swim in – ever forward with the tide
the lighthouse is always there to remind you
of a way to yourself who wants rescuing
and if you ever go blind
I'll throw myself into you
to find a beacon, that tiny ray
and bring you back home
Written for poetry prompt by Magpie tales #202. Murakami's The wind up bird chronicle and music by Ludovico Einaudi were there inspiration.

Blog: About time

The soothing sounds of acoustic guitars have been making me all gooey and tender. The sun reaching through the windows gives me the wrong impression that it might be spring time. Last night when I drove back home, I had an image in my mind (I'll return to it in a sec). Lately, my mind has been overwhelmed by past events, and also by imaginary ones, future ones as well... and it has given me a sense of gratitude for everything that has happened. Somewhat painful that I can't get back and live them once again and without distracting thoughts, cherish them right there in that moment, and not years after. But this feeling is a good start for change.
As for that image... I imagined snow, lots of it, and the cold nights, and that refreshing feeling when you step into a warm tavern and drink a pint or maybe just a warm tea, with a fireplace burning, and listening to human stories, poets, musicians. I don't know exactly why, but tavern scenes in fantasy books have always been one of my favourite ones.

I've had time to relax and create, before 2014 came, so I continued with 50 journal prompt:

Santa has been good this time, he has brought me an awesome gift - StoryCubes:
They have already given me inspiration for writing.
I think during the holidays I ate too much junk food, now I'm craving vegetables so much...and stomach seems okay with them. My knees are also better, I started manual therapy and something that has been jumping on the outside of the knee joint has calmed down, it still does here and there, but I could actually go up the stairs and be okay, feel the knee as strong as the other one. After a year... tears of joy. Hope it lasts a long long time.

Last week I watched the movie About time....soooo romantic, one of the reasons I feel gooey. I know there's a better word for it, I just like saying gooooey. :) Anyway, it's really cute and funny, loved it. I wanna watch it again today. There's also a song they adapted: How long will I love you:
So easy to cry. Now...go hug somebody! ;)

Saturday, 11 January 2014

Poem: It was the road

so randomly our paths intertwine
every person sitting on the edge of his throne
watching the world unfold
every person with a heartbeat that is his
yet the rhythm soothes us all the same
a million roads leading nowhere
a million more for those who see
new paths forming with every step we make
cycle of life leaves us somewhat fearful of tomorrow
it starts our slowly, once you learn to run
it seems you're out to outrun yourself
milestones just fly by
certain doors are harder to open
others you won't be able to close
grab what memories you can
every now and again, nostalgia will take over
reminding you of events by which you were made richer
some seem so far away
while other you seem to see in the mirror
what we share now is time, which will soon become history
and future will make us better judges
we received no instructions
life lessons are for free
the details of what we love shape our days
they fill our lives with the fragrance of purpose
in the end you'll see it was the road,
which made the pearls shine

Sunday, 5 January 2014

Poem: Waking up giants

dark clouds with rain
have been clogging the night
but you believe the daytime
will scatter them away
yet when you gaze at the possible future
a certain feeling of unease washes you over
like a fire in the stomach
that no amount of water will put out
watching monsters grow out of their shape
as you count sheep,
but some idea won't let you sleep
yet you can't find out,
how to write it down
the fear soon catches your eyes – so alienated
in the city of skyscrapers
there is no place like home
down the fountain of dreams
you dropped a torch
bumping against the walls of caged reality
casting beams, distorting dreams, waking up giants
the ground on which we roam
cracking from underneath
steps we take between tragedy and comedy
every heart a lonely survivor -
a beholder who knows the essence