Sirens sailors sink
21-22 September 2017
Mossy waves
Floating petals shades
Everglades
Wonder’s point
The colours observed disjoint
Hues of red and blue
Colour rule
Teachings of old school
Pupil mild
Like a child
Outer quiet inner wild
Rocking the boat two
Ship at sea
The mind keeping low at bay
Thunderous
Waves that bring
Ship wreck to my toe nail pink
Sirens sailors sink
Reading of the poem:
Sirens’ song
The bitter taste of Orange
21 February 2017
They lived in a small house by the sea and when the weather was not harsh he would go out with their small boat to get some fish for their meal., else they would have to rely on the barley porridge that Estelle made. The barley was bought thanks to the latest catch Bart had made and that he had sold at the village earning him some sacks of barley. Estelle, his wife, always thought that the barley was better because wheat tented to get musty in their small house by the seashore.
When Bart was not fishing either because the weather was bad or because the catch would not be good, Estelle stayed at home knitting. All of Bart’s sweaters had been made by her and she had even started making him full jumpers.
In the twenty years that they had been married they had never quarreled once. It was not that they got on well about everything but simply that Estelle had quietly said “Well of course dear Bart you are right. I am so sorry that I did not understand it right the first time over”. In the early years of their marriage Bart had thought her to be giving in out of love for him and then slowly started suspecting that he may be simply superior to her mentally. While this thought tickled his ego and made him sometimes want to stray away and find a girl who would be more his intellectual equal, the long time passed with Estelle made it impossible for him to even draft such a plan.
Estelle made an excellent marmalade of the oranges that grew in the orchard around the house. It was really strange to see oranges growing so close to the sea but Estelle had her way with nature and from the fist orange tree that she had succeeded in planting during their first wedding year, there were now more than 40 orange trees growing around the little house.
The best days were when Bart could get the fish and Estelle could make one of her special “Coulis” with the same oranges except that the taste was not at all like the marmalade she made but rather like some delicious soup-like sauce she used as dressing with some herbs to go together with the fish.
In all the years they had lived together, Estelle had expressed only one desire and that was to float in the sea as she did not know how to swim and he was not sure whether he could help her swim at the coast as that is where the waves were the roughest. He kept thinking to himself that he could surely do it one day when he did not have to attend to the catch as she would have taken up the space useful for the catch and made them lose money if he had given in to her desire.
One day, coming back from his usual fishing trip he found Estelle her face resting on one palm and her other on the table. In front of her there were oranges that she had seemed to be cutting when she had died all of a sudden. He carried her in his arms overcome with grief and lay her on the bed. He was thirsty from the day’s toil so thought he should drink something before dealing with the situation. He seized some of the oranges and swallowed them but their taste was extremely bitter and had nothing to do with either the coulis nor the marmalade that Estelle had made for them.
Bart went back to Estelle and wondered what to do. He knew he could not just bury her like anyone else. He cried with anguish at the thought that he had never fulfilled her desire of floating in the sea. His mind then made, he called for the local priest to bless Estelle. When that was done, he rowed to the farthest point of their coast where the sea met the delta and put her body in the water. He thought that she looked too beautiful to die. He wept in grief at the way the orange strands of her hair spread out in the water.
They say he must have got lost in the tempest that ensued because he never came back after her sea burial. Some say, he chose to go with her because living without her was meaningless for him.
The oranges in the orchard still grow and the women from the village come and pick them freely and somehow, they always have a unique taste for each marmalade made. The oranges which are strangely extremely bitter when eaten naturally make a heavenly marmalade when the right quantity of sugar is added. The orchard lives on….
Reading of the story:
Pink Orange by Instinct Primitif/ Intidhar Kammarti
Contrived contraption
27 December 2016
Synapses
Diverging units
Time through space
Lovers knits
Illusions appearances
Unbends distances
Collapses
Of my nerve’s systems
Bleak anthems
Face disgrace
The ship sinks with all it boards
Waters welcome hoards
Digresses
The mind that invents
Circumvents
The intents
Recreating reaction
Contrived contraption
Reading of the poem:
Passage into Midnight – Omar Akram
Inside there is a soft glow
15 December 2016
The ship sails
The fallen sea wails
Burnt willows
My pillows
Embers flushing on my cheek
Glistening tears of meek
Resurrect
The Enchanted Times
Through my rhymes
Stand erect
Shaking off dust of neglect
Under the new moon
Silver trails
Hovering within
Of stardust
Of falling light
Of remnants of the lost might
Earthen reckonings
Wing that sings
Over the rooftops
Night kissed flight
Day dream bright
The feathers a path of clues
Withered chains to lose
Twirl me slow
Through the waking tides
Peace blossoms
Horseman rides
Multiply where he divides
Our bosoms anchors
Feet strike three
The Dawn strikes at six
We sing low
Humming birds
Inside there is a soft glow
Expanding in bricks
Reading of the poem:
Pequeña – La Milonga del Treno
Desde el Alma – La Milonga del Treno
Tu pálida voz – La Milonga del Treno
In the ship directions sail
30 September 2016
Stilted featherlight
Wandering through inner skies
Blooming waterfalls
Days of glory set
Inside the boats of childhood
Dreamland distant fog
The ship seeks lighthouse
My flanks a mountainous plain
Blinding sight for mind
In between a pair
A single spark in gardens
Dotted lines redraw
Eternity’s map
Flowing from my icicles
Seeking waters tip
Retrospect a mast
In the ship directions sail
Hindsight foresight trail
Reading of the poem:
Sjöjungfrun och konungadottern – Gjallarhorn
Angel Tears
30 July 2016
Falling rain
Covers my meadows
Black prairies
Grass withers
Scorching sunlight seeps within
Land of the fairies
The woods speak
Their voices wooden
Like ship mast
Now downcast
We carry our crew like rock
Flags of soul breach seas
Feeble mock
Their hearts set in stone
Marble walls
Angels’ Tears
Within the dark veins strewn thin
In loss of the Love
Reading of the poem:
Troth – Thomas Feiner
Frozen chants curdling
24 July 2016
Sinking ships
Into oblivion
They seep slow
Like white ink
Inverted Chinese painting
Drawing my heart’s lines
The winter
Crawled up in my spring
In Ending
Beginning
Unreachable changeling
Historical rhymes
Church bell chimes
My viscosity
Seeping through
Praying knees
The hands sunken thunderbolts
In altars’ steep wells
Woodcutter
My proud branches fells
I am tree
High in skies
The clouds whisper to me sighs
Of forgotten times
Withered leaves
Count pages’ rustle
As the ground
Gathers bunch
Avid jaws of Time now crunch
Remnants of my bark
They will me
Frozen chants curdling
Upon lips
Lost in pleas
The chest heaving with the wheeze
Renewed consumption
Reading of the poem:
You are my Winter – Dillon
The Unknown – Dillon
Texture of my Blood – Dillon
Unfolding mysteries spin
11 July 2016
Three fingers
Woven in the skin
Define me
Pink contours
The flash seen without detours
As the heat rises
Still glances
As the ship glides on
The icebergs
Illusion
Above and below now bound
The law of fusion
Hot and cold
Term me dynamics
Balance point
Zero stance
Two heads one bodied soul joint
As the wizards dance
Dead freedom
Measures of the sleep
Company
False we keep
Lulling us into the fields
Where orphans will weep
Writhing frames
The wilting will slain
Our bodies
Fallen stars
Mummies preserved where we’d lain
Tucked into the folds
Death akin
To ecstasies’ flames
Subtle grounds
My mind hounds
Unfolding mysteries spin
A blue heart to win
Reading of the poem:
Uloin – Tenhi
Näkin Laulu (1997 version) – Tenhi
Haaksi – Tenhi
Solitary Dream
28 March 2016
She roams Earth
In illusion’s frame
Her pace slow
Her Heart still
Her staff semblance of Oceans
Waters toil uphill
From afar
He divides waters
Promised lands
Splitting sands
Temples of the past resurge
From deepest callings
More says less
Concern with banal
Convention
Mere boredom
A whipping cane for the sane
Tripping on folly
Like cancer
Silent ills resume
Throbbing growth
Pervasion
Body’s short persuasion
Dying in white noise
Connection
Metastasis cure
Journey’s end
Stepping point
Like Siamese from head joint
Ad-libbing the words
Anchor me
The waters rise high
My ship sways
With the storms
I have lived beyond the norms
Of daily winters
I see gleam
Solitary Dream
It shines through
Lost lighthouse
Promises of forgiveness
New found tenderness
Reading of the poem:
Dream – Peruquois
Follow flight of birds
4 March 2016
Mother wakes
Shaking off the crusts
From past wounds
Stretching taut
We receive havoc we brought
With our tiny hands
Tall splendour
She unfolds her gait
Ninth wonder
Defines her
Moving through Eleventh gate
Lava and thunder
Molten breath
She trembles and heaves
With the tides
As she rides
Brings upon us Mercy’s death
Split faith her stallion
The blind screech
They cling to tatters
Dying leech
Mind flatters
While the seeing heart scatters
The law of Talion
The children
Survivors of wreck
They sail lone
No captain
Only ghosts upon the deck
As they whimper lost
We reborn
From scattered blue coil
Remember
Past glory
Huddled in ship hear story
Of ancestors’ toil
Now rejoice
I will remind you
How we fled
Tomorrow
Leaving behind us sorrow
Shedding it like leaves
Nasal voice
Through Time’s loudspeaker
Calls for me
Warning shrill
It transforms to wing my gill
Splitting the ethers
Hurry child
Follow flight of birds
They head South
Where waters
Split through the red desert storms
Basking in two suns
Reading of the poem:
Terra Firma – Delerium
Myth – Delerium
Just a Dream – Delerium
Wisdom – Delerium
Lamentation – Delerium
Aria – Delerium
Angelicus / Epiphany – Delerium
The Sky – Delerium feat. Kristy Thirsk
Till the End of Time – Delerium
Ramblings
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