Category dVerse Poetics

Hiraeth

freyathewriter 27 Comments 
Hiraeth
Hiraeth
Cymru am byth
in these stones lieth
rain, never-ending
turning streams into rivers
turning the wheel
the wheel
the wheel
breaking the stones
the bones
the bones
silver and lead
bring out your dead
count them
count them
bring out your dead

Hiraeth
Hiraeth
Cymru am byth
work them to death
for a crust of dark bread
darken the doorsteps
with the smuts on your breath
put them in barracks
work them to death
poison their bodies
with deadening lead
filling their pockets
with bones and dread
Cymru am byth
here, there lieth
the boys and the men
the drowned and the bloated
for the silver and lead

Hiraeth
Hiraeth
Cymru am byth
for the silver and lead
bring out your dead
turning them over
for the silver and lead
count them
recount them
we walk on the blood
of the boys and the men
of the gone and the dead
bring out your dead
cast in silver and lead

Hiraeth
Hiraeth
in these stones lieth
pray, a moment of silence
let them sing, witness
the troubles they had
Gwlad, Gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m gwlad

Hiraeth
Hiraeth
Cymru am byth

For dVerse Poetics this week, Dora invites us to consider stone our muse for our poetic wanderings, whether it be gemstones, vast rocks, or somewhere in-between.

Where I live in Wales, I am surrounded by quiet hills and mountains that once roared with industry, stretching back over two thousand years. Whether it was silver, lead, copper or gold, the people of this part of our country mined it – you can only imagine the dangerous conditions in which they worked.

I chose to give a voice to the people of the past who worked in terrible conditions to bring the minerals out of the very rock of this land, weaving in some of the Welsh language at the same time. I have included explanations of the words and phrases that I have used below:

Hiraeth – a deep longing for something, especially your home
Cymru am byth – Wales forever
Gwlad, Gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m gwlad – Land! Land! I am true to my land! This is from the national anthem of Wales, Land of My Fathers.

If you would like to join us in writing a poem inspired by stones, precious or otherwise, click on the link above and join us!

(Photo of the Cwm Elan lead mine, from 28dayslater.co.uk).


Martini (dirty)

freyathewriter 22 Comments 
Once in a lifetime I hover
at the threshold, made ice
with fear, thawed by hope 
yet brittle with acceptance 
for this is no rehearsal; no
amount of practising the 
u
 n
  f
   u
    r
     l
      i
       n
        g
of your life
can prepare me for your journey 

and this will not be
the last time, for you are the first
the most important, paving the way
and perhaps, because of that
I fancy this gives you solace
together with the drama
that your departure creates;
a fanfare marking your final parade

you are not keen on acceptances
nor being the quiet man
preferring to make waves, no, bloody storms! 
your greatest fear is 
being left behind, so you leave first
slamming the door shut
to make your point

hope is a barbed crown of roses 
scratching your scalp red-raw, blood
and perylene petals not merging, but fighting
like the tigers in your soul; I never know which one will win
fearing one, hoping for the other
understanding
finally, that I have no say

as for the ice?
you prefer it
- - floating - -
in your martini (dirty)
two olives, pierced

and even still you raise your glass chin chin
and I ciao ciao
you, always present, never past tense
au revoir, Dad
this is not goodbye.


Over at dVerse Poets Pub, it’s time to dive into a bit of Poetics with our friendly host, Kim. This week she has asked us to be inspired by the glorious poem ‘The Window’ by Mary Jean Chan, which you can read here. Her poem won second prize in the 2017 National Poetry Competition.

Kim has asked us re-read and explore Chan’s poem,  particularly the use of line breaks and caesura to build rhythm and evoke emotion, and the three-word movement: “anger is like the sun, which is like love” and then write a poem that begins with ‘Once in a lifetime’, just like Mary Jean Chan’s.

Writing this was certainly enjoyable but quite a challenge to begin with, and then I got into a rhythm, losing myself in the process. Even though it’s thirteen years since my dad died, he’s still inspiring me. His death certainly wasn’t goodbye!

If you’d like to join us, head over to dVerse, follow the guidelines and most of all, have fun!

(Image by https://www.pexels.com/@amine-kubranur-cakiroglu-689611212/ on Pexels).

Obsidian Nights

freyathewriter 22 Comments 
wave your chill sceptre
Queen December
blow snowflake kisses
from your lips tinged blue 
beckon the jester
to do your will
as he skates on thin ice
dancing with glacial glee
twirling, skirling 
his frost-rimed mirth
bestowing fairy dust
bejewelling all
with tinkling laughter
and a wicked arctic glare

the January King
rises to his queen’s challenge
commanding freezing fog 
lurking in valleys
stunning streams into silence
babbling brooks made mute
meandering mists muffle
icicles spear the air
dagger-sharp
dangling from branches
scintillating in sunlight
skewering the shadows 
until they surrender
s--h--a--t--t--e--r--i--n--g
to smithereens

Winter emits a chilling sigh 
frost fairies dance in the sparkling light
a hint, a tracing, an ethereal lacing
of spiderweb chandeliers
swaying
as robins flit
from branch to icing sugar branch
the holly bush shivering 
its crown of thorns
bejewelled with blood berries
encrusted with crystal halos
glistening

the Frost Queen and Ice King
make all this so
as obsidian nights shimmer
and the Wolf Moon howls
reflected in glass-topped lakes
sliding and shivering
quivering
spectral stars pierce the sky 
celestial bodies tremble and twinkle
as we lock all doors
snapping them shut
our breath misting windows
warm duelling with chill
in an involuntary, gasping protest 
against Jack Frost’s
impromptu ingress

Hot on the heels of Quadrille Monday, over at dVerse Poets Pub, today is dVerse Poetics day, where Lisa invites us to write poetry of any sort, inspired by the weather.

I am truly fed up of the drought we’re having, the high temperatures day and night, the wildfires – everything to do with this long, parched summer. It worries me greatly. So, I decided to take comfort from the thought of colder, more refreshing weather and imagine the joy of folk tales, fairy tales, nursery rhymes and similar.

I hope you enjoy it, and, if you feel inspired to take part, do please join us. Head on over to Lisa’s post (linked above) follow the steps to share your poem, join us and read some other lovely poems as well!