Stand, Listen, Regret

basking

raising my face to the sun
closing eyes to recede
and join the world
one and the same

ears buffeted by a breeze
a low note faceted with the subtle chill of autumn
whilst the high, bright notes are playful
bringing the bleat of ewes and adolescent lambs
the metallic clunk of farm machinery
tractors are tested, dismantled and put to bed
until the fecund seasons start once more

silence and boil
whisper and yell
contrast me
still —
silent with all that surrounds
the quietude is a fallacy
or perhaps not
perhaps striving for silence is something we created
to battle against the noise of our minds
the clamour of our industry
the demands of our modernity
the delusion of an easier life
machines doing our work

illusory

and yet —
how have we filled those dreamed-of empty hours?
our cups overflow
too much data
haptics vibrating
upticks in our constant chase
rat-defined race
the creeping animals are left breathless in our verminous wake

there is no silence

all those people underground tapping the underside
reflection of what we desired
or what nightmarish imaginings we strove to evade

they come to haunt
those things we spent our time aiming to miss
We are no better than those who came before
before
... before

and before

we merely found new ways to become the animals that we truly are
cannibals

destroyers of futures
creators of destruction

So I stand

I listen
I, regret
I... stand
I
listen

yet

Over at dVerse, Grace is inviting us to write a descort, which is a poem of deliberate difference rather than having a defined form like, say, a villanelle. She suggest that we might experiment with:

*varying line lengths
*changing rhythms or meters
*inconsistent rhyme schemes
*different stanza shapes
*shifts in voice or perspective
*fragments alongside complete sentences
*the use of another language or dialect
*unusual visual arrangements on the page

We don’t need to use all of these techniques, but keep in the mind the key principle: Let the discord mean something.

This was quite the challenge, but a lot of fun. If you want to give it a try, head on over to dVerse (linked above), read Grace’s helpful guide and join us!

Hiraeth

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).


Obsidian Nights

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!