I have a will to survive

I have a will to survive
29 October 2022
Courtesy pinterest.com

I had a will to survive
My hands rising in rebellion
I knew that I was alive 
For my heart beat in unison

The will in me was so weak
No one can bear witness to this
My tongue cuts me as I speak
The blood of my blood wore such bliss

In vain the pursuit of sense
The pupil my pupil dilates
View of my rivers so dense
Leading mind that flood celebrates

I have a will to survive
The teacher brands me a lesson
Into the essence I dive
Like angels falling from Heaven

Reading of the poem:
Solitude – Billie Holiday

Adoration to Aset

Adoration to Aset
29 July 2022
Courtesy pinterest.com
Awake, awake, awake
Awake in Peace
Flower in Beauty
Lady of offering
Rise in Beauty
Goddess of Life
Beautiful in Heaven
Heaven is in Peace
Earth is in Peace
Goddess daughter of Nut
Daughter of Geb
Beloved of Osiris
Goddess rich in names
All praise to you
I adore you
Lady Isis


Transliteration

Nehes Nehes Nehes
Nehes em hotep
Nehem em neferu
Nebet hotepet
Weben em neferu
Nutjert en ankh
Nefer em pet
Pet em hotep
Tu em hotep
Nutjert sat Nut
Sat Geb
Mert Ausar
Nutjert asha renu
Anet hrak Anet hrak
Tu a atu Tu a atu
Neb Aset
An Aset
Tua Aset

Reading of the Transliteration:

The Secret Chamber by Diane & David Arkenstone

In Time we will see them flourish

In Time we will see them flourish
7 July 2022
Courtesy stock photo
Seek me in the rivers that flow stark
I have given in to the tides that all embrace
yielding into the deltas that claim more
that demand from all the very core

I will gaze upon the sun unflinching
the memories of you lying intact
unravelling in a world we never touch
as I watch your dark wings glowing

Laying on a bed of flowers exhaling
scent of jasmine, rose and moonflowers
I am one with my other face hidden
deep into the water it slowly grows

What is you has now become me, us
and what I am I know exists no more
yet I explore the emptiness of your face
translucent, aglow, it escapes physicality

I look beyond the life we never had
beyond stolen instances of nighttime 
into the compressed breaths taken
to construe a world beyond the world

We will sing sweet and soft lullabies 
to the unborn children we raised
in our mind’s eye they roam playgrounds
sitting in the recesses of my bosom

We keep and weep within my bosom
withered like an old nun’s gait
it speaks of unraveled moments
In Time we will see them flourish

Reading of the poem:
I’ll be seeing you – Billie Holiday

Elixir part 3 – The paradoxes of Melancholy

Elixir part 3 – The paradoxes of Melancholy
3 July 2022
Courtesy Adobe Stock
Amelia found a seat not far from the dead teenager and threw herself on it as she could hardly bear the crescendo of the wailing that emanated from the Melancholists. The wails subsided after a while and the Melancholists slowly exited the burial ground passing by the parents and other family of the young teenager and offering condolences to them. Amelia knew they would soon be gone to their dwellings all around Melancholy. She wished to see how they entered their dwellings that seemed hermetically shut and asked if she could follow them. The Melancholists accepted in hope of making of her an ally who could create the Elixir their breed needed so much. Even they, as a matter of fact, would do better with some drops of Elixir to make their lifeline longer and the beauty of their life greater.

Amelia followed a crowd of Melancholists back to their dwellings and she saw one family after the other slide into the slit that revealed itself to them and be gone into their mushroom-like dwellings. She realized that the slits would appear only to the owners of the mushroom and not anyone else – not even the other residents of Melancholy. One of the Melancholists by her side told her that it was only if the owners gave specific orders to the membrane that covered their dwelling that it would open to someone else. The orders had to be accompanied by a ritual if the dwelling was to open to a non-resident of Melancholy. This was to ensure a double protection from a potential non-resident of Melancholy trying to harm the Melancholists by forcing them to say the orders. Indeed, even if the orders could be given under constraint the ritual could only be made by someone who was free of all constraint.

Amelia watched them disappear one after another in their dwellings and realized that on the other side of Melancholy far from the burial grounds, there was a group gathered and whose collective sorrow seemed to draw her in like a magnet. After the last family had gone into their dwelling, she headed towards the group of sorrowful Melancholists. When she reached them, she realized that they were all youngsters, so beautiful that she could not identify who was the most beautiful of all. It was as if their features kept morphing and the one she looked at seemed always more beautiful than the one she had looked at just before. Despite so much beauty, they were full of an agonizing sorrow that seemed to be tearing them apart. They talked about their fallen friend in hushed voices and seemed to be betting on who would go next. 

Amelia asked them why it was that they needed to shorten their lives and they answered as if surprised by the question that this had always been the case. Amelia assured them that they did not need to follow what had been done and that they did not need to shorten their lives. Somehow, they seemed to believe it was the only way that their parents could live longer and were happy to gift them with their lives. Besides, they said that while they were alive, all they could feel is sorrow and woe and they simply could not live with such a heavy burden. They were therefore doubly happy to gift their life away. Amelia asked them how they could possibly feel sorrow and woe in such a beautiful place and one of the taller ones answered that behind the beauty lay the thought of the death of their parents so they could only see the death and the beauty of the surroundings evaded them. It would seem like they had uncovered these feelings after they reached the age of twelve.

Amelia thought that it was such a strange paradox that the young ones should live in a place of beauty but shun it and concentrate on the sorrow and giving their life away for the elders while the elders of Melancholy not only found the place beautiful but were also able to get within it the gift of life from their youngsters. It was not a gift of extending the life eternally like the Elixir though but a gift of just a few more years. The Elders appreciated Melancholy and the gift of the youngsters but at the same time wept the passing of their youngsters and their gift that they so wanted to return and have their youngsters healed by the Elixir. It seemed like Melancholy was indeed a place of paradoxes.

Agnes Obel - The Curse 

Tomorrow I will bear no weight

Tomorrow I will bear no weight
24 June 2022
Courtesy pinterest.com
Fed with constant realities
their idle waves of intent 
breaking through my fears
I bear fruit to a sullen morrow

I fixate beyond the edge of myself
on the anticipated remembrance
of the snow-white place in me
where I fail to see you no more

Your face grows stark and steady
In a solitary place I keep hidden
between collar bone and chest
bubbling with the residue of unrest

My brain will build tall citadels 
where your name will reiterate
like a broken disk hitting my skull
one dull thud after another drops

There are fleeting looks encircled 
by the morosity of frozen cheeks
They bask in the sunlit shadows
born to the eye that blinks never

Tomorrow I will bear no weight
Like a maiden before her sunset
I will tear away my shaking limbs
in offering to the beasts that pray

Reading of the poem: 
Adam Hurst - Reflection

Elixir part 1 – The Truth of the Elixir

Elixir part 1 – The Truth of the Elixir
29 May 2022
Courtesy Daily Telegraph
She looked behind her fleetingly trying to assess how far her assailant was. Not more than 90 seconds before he would be able to seize her. She stomped with her right foot the earth under her feet while thinking at the same time of being inside the earth. No sooner had she done that than her body sank into the ground dropping at a very high speed. She thought of the steps of soil and they materialised under her feet. She ran quickly using one step after the other and leapt onto the one leading her out, on the other side of the river where her assailant, general Stein, had been stalking her.

The Elixir was within a vial knotted closely into the hem of her shirt. She clutched at it frantically, needing to assess whether it had opened and spilt over. It was safely knotted, lid intact, into her clothing. Her eyes grew misty when she remembered how her mother had sacrificed the remaining years she had to live just so that she could be able to make the Elixir and work on making more so that more people who were dying could be saved.

The Elixir had a restorative nature allowing it not only to provide more years of life to those dying but also to heal the organs within the body of the sick persons it was administered to.
She had seen time and time again how the elderly were happy to grant the remaining years of their life to their ailing children or grandchildren. All the Elixirs she had made had been used. Only the one she had made from her mother’s remaining years was kept close to her heart. Nobody had ever been able to understand how she made the Elixirs and she had kept the secret close to her. When the word had started coming out, she had received offers from pharmaceutical companies but she knew well enough that they would only buy her technique in order to bury it as those companies thrived on the sickness and death of people and had no intention of actually making Elixirs to heal people.

She thought again about what she had created. It would seem like the holy Grail when you thought of it but it did have some side effects: it held some of the memories of the deceased and it seemed that those were in majority memories of trauma or other levels of pain. These memories kicked in when anyone given the Elixir was experiencing any level of anger or stress. Upon studying this phenomenon, she realised that these memories were stored in some pockets of the Elixir which had a slight discoloration of the pearls of blood around it. She needed to be able to isolate this from the rest of the Elixir without foregoing any of the years contained in it.

She looked at where general Stein was looking at her, seething with anger that she had again escaped him. He had never pursued her with any offers, unlike the pharmaceutical companies. He simply wanted to get from her the secret of creating the Elixir so that he could use it on the children of his elite clientele. Ever since he had left the army, his only scope in life had been to earn as much riches as he could and Amelia’s invention represented a fantastic opportunity to do so. Back in Melancholy where he visited his rich clients, the parents were dealing with a very difficult situation as all their children were either neurasthenic or suicidal and he knew from observing Amelia’s work that the Elixir would not only extend the life of those who took it but would also make those who took it wish to live a beautiful life

Al-Nil - Armand Amar

As grows stronger my rising fist

As grows stronger my rising fist
23 March 2022
Courtesy dreamstime.com
Will I find that special sound 
of sweet sighing redemption?
I feel it through the winds unwound
like a flag without a nation

I hear yonder muffled cries
I wander beyond their borders
in the weaving of truth and lies
heaves the rhythm of disorders

Blue and pink and a pint of glue
The glowing glee of a life to come
What is deceit and what is true
of meagre talk the total sum

Whisper without me an ear to fill
What comes forth a tongue to twist
Through landscapes I seek to still
As grows stronger my rising fist

Reading of the poem:
Sully Erna & Lisa Guyer - The Rise

Hanging tree now lit

Hanging tree now lit
18 February 2022
Courtesy Rodrigo Luff
Peasant ennobled
exalted by the honours
raised head to adorn

The stern church endowed
a bishop to coronate
head shaking off dust

The stance handed down
raised wild bodies to enthrone
forsaken the crown

Feet in the gravel
pebbles thrown in old fountains
arm to unravel

Sanction renewal
erect a hanging treetop
enable embers

Jubilatory
settle platinum attire
rekindle fire

Induct strong the grit
molten powder raises flames
hanging tree now lit

Reading of the poem:
Bad Wolves - Zombie
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly Haiku challenge using the words “crown”, “grit” and their synonyms. For more information or to read other poets’ contributions, please follow the link. 
https://ronovanwrites.com/2022/02/14/ronovan-writes-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-397-crown-and-grit/   

Victim of the ploy

Victim of the ploy
11 February 2022

Courtesy Rodrigo Luff
Change clutches my gait;
motion in my mind imparts
traces in my heart

Footstep’s movement dwells
in otherworldly places
that my stride foretells

Eye follows a mark,
hand strokes hidden stirring lights
trail of footprint’s sights

Steps taken in haste
move the music of morrows
Bittersweet their taste

A walk on rainbows;
action of colourful flames
lisping loud my names

A threefold act shifts:
of me I am the decoy,
victim of the ploy

Reading of the poem:
Poets of the Fall - Moonlight Kissed
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku poetry prompt challenge with the words “move”, “step” and their synonyms. For more information and the contribution of other poets, please follow the link here. 

Quand surgit la pâleur du futur à éteindre

Quand surgit la pâleur du futur à éteindre
12 janvier 2022
Courtesy Rodrigo Luff
Nous n’irons plus aux bois tels des enfants légers
Les yeux remplis de rêves et de tendres désirs
Nous n’aurons plus aux doigts cette musique ailée
L’oreille sonnera la trêve de ces fantasques plaisirs

Relevons les éclats de nos cœurs emmêlés
Quand s’écoule lente la sève en un bel élixir
Témoin de nos ébats scellant grandes échappées
Le devoir veut qu’on crève en un dernier soupir

Compterons-nous les secrets des intrépides soldats
Raidis par la douleur de patrie à étreindre?
Des drapeaux à hisser dans un froid de verglas
Quand surgit la pâleur du futur à éteindre


Lecture du poème: 

Corneille - Parce qu'on vient de loin

Summarised translation of the Alexandrin French poem into English

When the pallor of the future to be extinguished arises 
January 12, 2022 
Courtesy Rodrigo Luff
We will no longer go to the woods like light children 
Eyes filled with dreams and tender desires 
We will no longer have this winged music at the tips of our fingers 
The ear will sound the end of these fantastic pleasures 

Let’s lift up the shards of our tangled hearts 
When the sap slowly flows into a beautiful elixir 
Witness of our frolics sealing great escapes 
Duty wants us to die in a last sigh

Will we count the secrets of intrepid soldiers
Stiffened by the pain of fatherland to embrace 
Flags to be hoisted in a freezing cold 
When the pallor of the future to be extinguished arises 

Reading of the poem:
Diane Arkenstone - Hold on to Hope