Without him

Without him

20 February 2020

Courtesy videohive.com

 

It was a bitter night. The wind was howling outside and she recalled how it had tugged at her hair and the umbrella almost yanking it out of her gloved hands. She had been glad to have gloves on as it was biting cold outside. Her cheeks seared with the acid bite of the cold. The elements raging outside were no match, however, for the cold that was biting into her heart as the days went by without him. She wondered if he was now gone forever or if he would come back like he had done after a period of absence around a year ago.

 

She stretched on the sofa where she had been lying down watching the screen without actually taking in what was going on in the Television set just across the room. She looked at the reed in the canal outside her room and could see it bend wildly this way and that as the wind tore away at its roots attempting to uproot the reed. The wind was, however, no match to the resilient reed which withstood the tear of the wind and just bent gracefully one way or the other depending on the twists and turns of the wind.

 

She felt she should be more like the reed and adapt to the situations as they arose. She should get used to the times when he disappeared however much they hurt. He was anyway like a ghost in her life so she should not expect him to have a normal pattern of behavior. He was gone for longer than the other time but it did not mean that he would not be back again. She felt ice fill her heart as the veracity of his absence sunk into her mind. There was no sunshine when he was not around. Indeed she thought, there was no sunshine without him….

 

Ain’t no sunshine – Eva Cassidy

 

Remembrance

Remembrance

13 February 2020

Courtesy George Redhawk

 

Remember

The slates wiped away

Room empty

No issue

Just water for some tissues

Spread out on my frock

 

I crane neck

Following through the insight

Dreary eyes

Unseen wounds

Figures with their knots set loose

Exchanging content

 

Play no more

Said voice in bosom

Remembrance

Reckoning

All will collect in dismay

The moments of loss

 

Reading of the poem:

Meu Fado – Mariza

Shower me in rain

Shower me in rain

10 February 2020

Courtesy Pinterest.com

 

Have it all

Bursting seams whispered

Pack in bulge

We indulge

Preserving by ingestion

All the holiness

 

I confess

In moments of sighs

The respite

In the might

Of the ghastly paths trodden

Forgiveness lengthy

 

My scream hurls

Off dilated chests

In plenty

Agony

Breathing in toxins to speak

What bosoms bore not

 

I claim eye

Redemption in sky

Words ripped off

The shorn back

Whip up a back to redeem

What I may then seem

 

Perfection

Art of plentiful

Nuances

Beautiful

Look within the chest that heaves

Nothing for the mass

 

Land of Perth

Rekindles the birth

Of the Love

Infinite

Take mind off woodlands ablaze

Shower me in rain

 

Reading of the poem:

Prosopa – Spanatis Spanoudakis

Irreducible

Irreducible

9 February 2020

Courtesy pixabay.com

 

Break me pot

Dancing tradition

Rhythmic feat

Balanced neat

On the verge of extinction

A race to repeat

 

Blow me hot

The egg shells within

Frame melting

Iron clad

Beyond the anklets tightened

Staggering demand

 

Find me not

Irreducible

Elbows still

Ache the ribs

As I disperse beyond sheen

Of matter unseen

 

Reading of the poem:

Under your scars – Godsmack

The Frost Chronicles: The secret world of the marid part 2

The Frost Chronicles:  The secret world of the marid part 2

12 January -8 February 2020

BnW pexels-photo-120271
Courtesy pexels.com

She stared at the Marid who despite being right in front of her now still seemed like a towering giant. She wondered if her ears failed her as she could not believe what she had just heard. Did he really say daughter? She looked up at the cloud surrounding the haze which was his face.

  • You profess to be my father, she said in a voice that surprised her by its steadiness despite how shaken she was feeling.
  • I do not profess to be. I am, answered the marid.
  • I have a father of my own whom I have known since my childhood
  • I do not wish to remove his trace from your memory but he is not entirely your father
  • What do you mean not entirely your father?
  • It is something that your kind finds difficult to fathom. You see, your mother was married to your part-father but her heart had been promised to me within dream. She was my chosen one. When your moment of conception had come, I was within your part father and together we created you with your mother’s egg, your father’s sperm and my spark. What your kind never realizes is that the spark is stronger than the rest. Those of you created part marid can never deny your kind even if your part-parents may do so. You bear like us the gift of the sight beyond time, beyond matter.

She felt several protests and questions rising to her lips but she decided not to voice any of them. Somehow, somewhere inside her, the truth of what he was saying was dawning upon her. She had always known her father was not exactly her father and there was something different between her and her siblings. At every difficult moment she had gone through in her life, there had always been some sort of magically prepared way for her to be out of the quagmire she was in. She always knew it was no coincidence but she had a hard time realizing that it was her father from his unseen realm pulling the strings of fate in her favour.

  • Why do I not live within your world? she said after realizing that the marid was somehow reading her thoughts.
  • The djinn are not very welcoming to half djinns, he said. They fear them as they believe that humans are out to exterminate them. They do not realise that we can live in peace alongside each other as long as none fears the others.
  • You mentioned that half breeds like me bear the gift of the sight beyond time and matter. Do you mean I can predict the future as well as see what could have been changed in the past to avoid a certain future
  • Yes but it is a gift to use wisely and not to change things that would then make the future balloon out of control.
  • Why is it that I cannot see my own fate and future then?
  • That is because you are not transcending your own future. You have a sense of what is oncoming because of the deeply developed six sense that you have owing to the part marid nature of your DNA. You have, however, chosen to occult it owing to your fear of seeing beyond the creation of yourself. Indeed, if you were to see your future and given your current fears, it would be like an addiction where you would want to see beyond that future which represents your death and you would pass a kaleidoscope of images and sensations that would pertain to all the lives you’ve traversed until your reaching this birth. Given that all part marids are also powerful empaths, you would be condemning yourself to a great amount of torture just by passing through any of those kaleidoscopic lives you traverse if there had been any addiction or brutality within those lives.
  • I have a feeling I have done this on more than one occasion and I almost lost my sanity. I guess I should work more on the element of transcendence. I always thought that transcendence was the ability to reach stillness and start seeing everything from the point of the inner observer, thereby being out of time and out of matter.
  • It is that on a certain level. If you are, however, laden with fears that you have not confronted such as traumatic events in the past, then you never reach the proper level of transcendence. You only are at the fear based level and your attachment to your bodily presence enslaves you to see just one version of the truth instead of seeing it in its entirety.
  • How do I attain transcendence then?
  • Face your fears first, both known and unknown. Once you have done so, call upon me and I will let you know the true way of transcendence.

She nodded and he disappeared instantly. Inside she could feel welling up a thousand years of knowledge accumulated within past and future lives entering her mind. She could create items and sell them for a reasonable price using all the knowledge accumulated within her. If she created enough items from future thought that should pay a heavy reward and it should be an easy thing to do as she knew how to look into both the past and the present. She did not need the first marid’s help anymore. She vowed, however, to get to know more of the marid world as it was partially her world too and could help her belong to something finally.

Silence – Vargo

Blue lakes inside me

Blue lakes inside me

2 August 2016

splitting ends deviantart com rhinoman_by_garthim
Courtesy Garthim on deviantart.com

 

The rain falls

Coloured black and blue

On my sides

Tanning hides

My pores all welcoming spots

Blue forget me nots

 

Slowly flow

Blue lakes inside me

Silently

Hidden skies

Whispering realities

Lift them to the clouds

 

I gather

In the rain that falls

Falls falls slow

On your lands

Blue and green blended mellow

Under desert sands

 

Reading of the poem: 

angelsinks darkness_princess_by_carlos_quevedo-d6dp9o9
Courtesy Carlos Quevedo on deviantart.com

Oh Gente da Minha Terra – Mariza

Intrépide damoiseau à la poitrine imberbe / Intrepid young squire with a clean-shaven chest

Intrépide damoiseau à la poitrine imberbe

(Poème écrit sous forme de Sonnet Occitan et Alexandrin traduit en anglais ci-dessous ou ici)

6 juillet 2016

flower david galstyan pinterest com 13
Courtesy David Galstyan on pinterest.com

 

Ils parlent de justiciers de forces vives suintées

Par les pores de douleur pour une mort prérequise

Comme les glas par milliers de cloches noircies tintées

Font vibrer la noirceur enterrée en l’église

 

Pour les cœurs épurer de vieilles rancœurs teintées

Raconte-moi malheur rajustant l’entremise

De ces heures à sonner réunions éreintées

Enfouie dans la pâleur de ces choix de vie grises

 

J’aurais d’un entretemps fait feu vif de tout bois

Elagué les copeaux comme menues brindilles d’herbe

Réflexions pour longtemps font mémoire bon aloi

 

Comme le cours des ruisseaux délave de fleurs la gerbe

Ainsi venu printemps fait briller l’effort croît

Intrépide damoiseau à la poitrine imberbe

 

Lecture du poème: 

flower david galstyan pinterest com 15
Courtesy David Galstyan on pinterest.com

 

Intrepid young squire with a clean-shaven chest

(Translation of a poem written in Alexandrin and Occitan Sonnet form. Original above or here)

6 July 2016

flower David-Galstyan-06-www.ArtPerson.org_
Courtesy David Galstyan on artperson.org

They talk about vigilante of bright strength oozed

Through pores filled with pain for a prerequisite death

Like thousands of knells from black tinted bells chiming

Make vibrate the darkness lying buried in church

 

To purify hearts of old resentments tainted

Tell me misfortune adjusting intervention

Of those hours that are ringing tired reunions

Buried in pallor of those choices of gray lives

 

I could have from passing made bright fire from all wood

Then pruned the shavings like some slender blades of grass

Thoughts that are churned well make good quality memories

 

As the course of streams washes out the sheaf of flowers

So when it comes does spring shine all efforts and grow

Intrepid young squire with a clean-shaven chest

 

Reading of the poem: 

flower David-Galstyan-Fly-5
Courtesy David Galstyan on pinterest.com

 

Jealous of the rain – Michael Nyman

Diary of Hate – Michael Nyman

Memorial – Michael Nyman

A la folie – Michael Nyman