Category dVerse Poetics

dVerse Poetics – Blessed

freyathewriter 25 Comments

Image – author’s own

We didn’t know we didn’t want it
Until we’d passed it all around
We didn’t know how to stop it
So many six feet under ground

Our homes they began to empty
Some tried to run far away
The brave ones locked the village down 
Others fell to their knees to pray

The vicar held services in the fields
The church was locked up tight
Still the sickness danced in the air
Giving us death deep in the night

We saw not a soul in fourteen months
Our dead in our gardens now rest
The streets have been emptied of laughter and joy
But we are alive, so we must be blessed

*****

Tonight over on dVerse, Merril is our genial host and has asked to write on the theme of giving. I learned a new thing, that the Tuesday after US Thanksgiving is known as Giving Tuesday when people often donate to charitable organisations and non-profits.

Now… true to type, I have at first sight opted for the giving, or passing around, of something unpleasant – disease. My poem is inspired by the village of Eyam in Derbyshire which was infected by the Great Plague in 1665, after a parcel of infected cloth was delivered from London to the village tailor. Under the leadership of the rector, Reverend William Mompesson and his predecessor, Reverend Thomas Stanley, the village took measures to prevent the plague spreading to the surrounding area and also to limit, where possible, spread of disease within the village.

Of the 800 people living in the village, 260 died. If it hadn’t been for the brave actions the community took, the surrounding areas could have been at least as badly affected as Eyam. This is the real gift behind my poem.

The photo above is a window in the village church, telling the story of Eyam and the Great Plague. If you wold like to know more, please check out the village website here.

If you would like to read more poems on the theme of giving, please hop over to dVerse and enjoy! You could also take part if the mood strikes you!

dVerse Poetics – Song of Songs

freyathewriter 37 Comments

This week in Poetics over at the dVerse Poets Pub, we are asked by our genial host Laura to step away from all that is distracting us, all that is bringing us down and be inspired by the poets whose thoughts turn to the mystical or spiritual. This is to mark Bhodi Day (8th December), when Siddharta Gautama achieved enlightenment and became the Buddha.

Please do hop over to dVerse, read the contributions and why not take part yourself?

Here is my offering, inspired by the line below:

My heart was split, and a flower appeared (Solomon)

I count them, not to accumulate the seeded wealth

but to honour your blessings, your beauty within.

For your lips are like the crimson thread

that connects each ruby-polished pearl nestled within

and I kiss them in awe, in delight, oh, in reverence.

My mouth lovingly caresses your shimmering jewels,

hesitant – and yet, and yet

I may not refrain from the glories within.

I am entranced by you, your eyes, your brow, your radiant skin,

your covering cannot shroud you, cannot conceal you from my gaze

I have split you open and your beauty is mine.

613 – I count them.

They are yours – and maybe, one day, mine.

This poem is also inspired by an extract from Song of Songs, which is also known as the Song of Solomon. In Jewish tradition, pomegranates are seen as a symbol of fertility and love (“Your lips are like a crimson thread; your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil [gleams] like a pomegranate split open”). They are also associated with the 613 mitzvot (commandments), because they are said to have 613 seeds (in reality they don’t, sadly!).

Cabaret – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 38 Comments

liza_minnelli_1973_special

Wikipedia

 

Greasepaint and glitter and show me your thighs

encased in the finest of silks.

Tip me the wink, girl,

sashay on over,

wrap yourself around that lucky ole chair

step on the seat back,

tip it on over

run your fingers through that brassy blond wig.

Bite your cherry red lip,

pout in my direction,

flutter your eyelashes

to hide who you truly are.

(But I can see through you

I can unravel the secret inside).

You hope I don’t know you.

you think you are hidden,

but I have the list

and your name is right here.

‘Jude’ runs right through you

and it’s only a matter of time

until that old gold star

emblazons itself on your skin,

until the flames devour you

and you join the planets spangling above.

‘Til then my sweet hussy

dance for your life.

 

This week on dVerse Poetics, Lillian invites us to write, inspired by the words razzle, dazzle and sparkle. Hmm… this immediately took me to one of my favourite films of all time – Cabaret. I love it for the music, the clever lyrics and (this won’t be a surprise to those who know me) the period of history and where it is set, in Berlin.

The dark brooding presence of the Nazis is so well-entwined with the hedonistic feel of pre-war Berlin’s cabaret scene, it haunts me. So my idea of razzle, dazzle and sparkle is inextricably interwoven with that, I’m afraid. Hey ho – I never claimed to be anything but a dark writer, except on occasion!

Please do head on over to dVerse and enjoy the work of other poets!