Tag Sound

The sound of your day

freyathewriter 10 Comments

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What does your day sound like?
The groan that escapes through a mildly bitten lip as you haul your carcass out of bed.
The muted shuffle of slippers on laminate floor and the rasp of terry towelling against skin as you multi-task your way to the bathroom.
The squeak of naked foot against the bath as you slip into the shower – quite literally.
A sigh this time as the soft, warm water- needles pummel your skin,
and the voice of your thoughts, your thoughts, your need to stay just there, just there forever
(or at least for as long as the hot water lasts).
But it’s a work-day, or a shopping-day, or a car-washing-day, or a take-the-kids-to-the movies day
and you have to desert your naked haven and get-damn-dressed.
One day, you promise yourself,
your day will sound like ripe cherries squeaking against your teeth as you bite into their shiny skin and the juice runs down your chin.
One day, your day will sound like your daughter’s gleeful chuckle when she found the Easter eggs hiding in the crook of the branches of the old plum tree.

One day, you promise yourself, your day will taste of freedom.

 

On my way home, I was listening to an interview on the Radio 4 Woman’s Hour podcast, with Felicity Ford who is a sonic artist (and knitter). She was talking about a project she engaged on to encapsulate the knitting history of the women of the Shetland Islands. This made me think about what a day would sound like (and then I I slipped into taste).

Can anyone identify with my poem?

TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge -Vibrant

freyathewriter 17 Comments

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cacophony, colours,

creeds and genders, all life

is here, we are blessed

 

enjoy difference

relish in the new, welcome

all, open your heart

 

Another week has whizzed by, and here we are again, prompted by our Francophile Antipodean friend, TJ, to pen another haiku! This week, he has offered us the word vibrant, or a lovely image of some flowers to whet our appetite. I went for the word, inspired (I’m not sure if that’s really the correct word) by the political wranglings that we have seen here in the UK, post shock Brexit vote.

I was brought up in a multi-cultural Birmingham, loved the variety, the sights and sounds, the smells of a city where vibrant colours could be seen and (to me) mystery tongues could be heard on every street corner. Of course, there were struggles, of course there were differences, but I have no doubt that I benefited from meeting and learning from others from different cultures from such an early age.

In my heart, and my mind, everyone is welcome. I don’t care who you are, or where you come from, as long as there is respect, as long as there are open hearts and minds, as long as there is love.

 

Tendrils

freyathewriter 46 Comments

In my room –
when velvet black undulates in the depths of night
I am secure, cosseted, nurtured.
Encased in my duvet cloud
toes peeking out, stretching towards the radiator as it clinks and clangs, expanding and contracting
I listen for the background ‘hisssshhhh’ as water rushes through the pipes, molecules racing along in their H2O hamster wheel.
The French door is open behind the blackout blind –

Aeons earlier I had pressed the smooth metal handle, turned the angular key (I can still feel the impression its cold corners left on my fingers), sensed the bolts shudder and slide in casings worn smooth.
Night air clamoured, grappling to fill the void as indoor warmth sighed to the heavens in almost mute supplication
The damp breath of Nature caressed me, gooseflesh prickled and tiny hairs stood to attention –

Creeping-creature sounds surround me now as I recline, supine, feline.
I taste the earth in the air as the world relaxes into its darkest hours –
the delicate tip-toe of the urban fox, an owl screech to wake the slumber-bound
and the frantic flutter of a moth, searching for a shaft of light around which to dance her dance of the mad.

In my room, in the depths of night, all of this can be found.

Tendrils

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This week on dVerse Meeting the Bar, our bar-keep Brian urges us to create using all of our senses, except sight. Challenging, or not?  Well, I really enjoyed this inspiration, since I love the fact that my new bedroom isn’t infiltrated by the sound of traffic or street lighting. It feels like a womb (I imagine!). And at night, it is utterly black. Glorious for sleeping!

I hope you enjoy my offering – and do take the chance to dip your toe in the world of darkness, or pick up your own figurative pen, why not!