Category DVerse

Technicolour – dVerse Open Link Night

freyathewriter 38 Comments

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The skeletal beginnings and the nagging thought that maybe I can’t do it this time are soon engulfed in colour. I resist the temptation to fill the void with only one – scarlet in this case. No, I look closely and discern the many hues, the tones, the textures, the dark, the light. I dissect. I delight in the clatter as I discard one pencil for another. I revel in the aroma of graphite, pigment and wax. I rejoice in the rasp of wood on blade as I sharpen yet another to a pin-fine point.

I lose myself. I lose myself in the not-quite-smooth paper brushing against my hand. Cold pressed, hot pressed, Daler Rowney, Strathmore, Arches, Winsor & Newton – a magical mantra that is music to my ears. I lose myself in the creation of something where nothing once reigned.

I infuse paper
with the joy of rainbows – no
concerns can stop me

Tonight it’s the turn of the delectable and highly talented Bjorn to host the bar over at dVerse. I know that it’s usually Monday when we are invited to write a haibun, but I thought I’d mix it up a bit and share one with you this evening instead.

My other creative passion, relatively recently reignited, is art. Much like when I’m writing, I lose myself in the process, but in a very different way. I hope I’ve managed to impart that in my haibun!

Open Link Night is great fun, as are all the nights when the dVerse team open the doors and usher us in through the hallowed portals. Do come along, even if it’s just to read an enjoy. Or… why not take part yourself? I guarantee a warm welcome!

Facsimile – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 30 Comments

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I’m not as resilient as I used to think

I am hollowed out and my mouth

is emptied when I most need to speak.

Fear steals my words and amplifies my thoughts –

the worst-case scenarios

the shadows

the insecurities

the ghosts

they haunt me

when all I want to do is

express how I feel

share my emotions

let you know me.

Be me.

Now that, that all silences me.

I’m no longer a woman

I’m the little girl waiting at the window

for someone

who never comes.

I put on a brave face

hid behind my curtain of unruly hair

and pretended everything was fine.

Who was I fooling?

I never had a poker face

I never will.

Nothing changes so very much.

Even if the damn words won’t come out

they’re all there

waiting to be freed

if I could only let them.

I’m silenced by the distant past

catching up and tripping me.

And I’m never prepared.

Never prepared.

I can’t unravel it on my own. Will you help me?

Here’s my entry into this week’s dVerse Poetics, hosted by the lovely Abhra who is, sadly, saying goodbye as one of the trusty and dedicated barkeeps at our wonderful bar. Sometimes, you just have to recognise when it’s time to move on.

The theme this week is unintended farewells. I did struggle with this a bit (and only partially because WordPress had a bit of a melt-down yesterday), since I didn’t want to hark back directly to the sudden and unexpected loss of my dad, which many of you have read about.

My entry is more to do with the consequences of that, and a few other chicanes in the road that have been part of my life over the past few years. I do feel as if I’m no longer the person I used to be. Sometimes, it’s bloody hard, sometimes, I see glimmers of someone else far more positive and creative than I was. It’s a confusing mess, but at least it’s life!

Please do head on over to the blog and this week’s Poetics to read more poety goodness – and to wish Abhra well, of course!.

 

The Man Who… dVerse Poetics – Character Study

freyathewriter 15 Comments

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The man who took me on
as part of the deal
The man who never once
made me feel –

in the way,
unwanted, not cared for

The man who carved lanterns
for Halloween fun
The man who made theatres
and allowed me to run –

matters off-stage,
free reign, made miniature

The man who was there, quiet
in my background
The man who loved me
as if he had found –

my small heart
and held it, so gently

A man who I love
admire and respect
A man who I hope
will only reflect –

that he fashioned a good life
for a daughter, pre-made

From the bottom of my heart
For the man who…

Today over on dVerse, our guest host Walter Wojtanik asks us to write about the character or characters who have influenced our lives – the good, the bad, and maybe the ugly. Whoever and however they may be, he invites us to write about them. Why not pop over and see what Walter has to say, and take part?

I first posted the poem above back in November 2013, and I am unashamedly recycling it, because this particular man, my step-dad, has been a rock for our entire family, never making me, his only step-child, feel anything other than his. He never treated me differently to my brother and sister, has never done anything other than be my parent, and a wonderful one at that. When I wrote this poem, I was 5 months down the line from losing my dad. it was a horrible, horrible time. Little did I know that whilst all that was going on, my step-dad was going through some really tough health problems, which were very hard for my mum as well. She and he have pulled through it – they are a strong and tough act. I admire them both greatly, love them dearly and count myself lucky to have them both in my life.

By the way, the photo above is a small part of my parents’ garden… 🙂