Tag dVerse Poetics

Martini (dirty)

freyathewriter 5 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).

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!).