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 2 – Graveyards that cry

Elixir part 2 – Graveyards that cry
12 June 2022

Courtesy pinterest
Amelia looked at the invitation card that a friend of her mother had given her earlier in the afternoon. It was an invitation to a private burial at Melancholy. In the world where she lived, not many people had the privilege of rubbing shoulders with the residents of Melancholy, the Melancholists, and even fewer had ever got an invitation to a private burial. It was the only place where the Melancholists let anyone see their true feelings of sorrow and in fact it was the only place where they showed any feelings at all. She remembered her mother telling her how the Melancholists had accepted her given all the work she was doing with their young children, trying to save them from their suicidal thoughts and their utter feeling of hopelessness.

She turned over the card. It was a beautifully engraved card which had the invitation on the front and a portrait of the deceased on the back side. She looked into somber eyes that seemed to follow her gaze as it trailed off to the edges. What a sad thing she thought to herself that such a beautiful child would want to die instead of enjoying a life of privilege. She wanted to go if not for anything else than paying homage to the child of her mother’s friend but at the same time she was aware that General Stein might be there. She knew that Melancholy was considered off grounds for any fights and that only the Melancholists Supreme Guard had the right to question or take away the liberty of any of the residents or their guests. General Stein was not a member of the Supreme Guard so he would not be able to harm her within Melancholy, but he would surely be waiting for her to come out of it to capture her.

Amelia decided to go to the funeral despite the risk she was taking. She had been given assurance of safe haven within Melancholy but also told she would be able to leave it without hassle. She donned her purple hooded coat and touched both the vial in the hem as well as the Infinity dagger she had hid near the vial. The Infinity dagger helped carve a quasi-infinite hole into a person it was dug into, making the cavity impossible to heal as it continued to remain open despite any number of stitches or other powdery substances burnt into it to make it heal. She knew that despite the assurances given to her, the General might well breach them as the stakes were really very high. Then again, if he breached the pact, the Melancholists or at least their Supreme Guard might not take to it very kindly.

She emerged from her car at the gates of Melancholy. It was indeed a beautiful place with the bright gardens, the mushroom-like dwellings that shone lily white in the night and the beautiful birds of all colours that flew from one side to the other of Melancholy. The jasmine in every corner of Melancholy exhaled a wonderful perfume that titillated the senses. Amelia made her way to the funeral hall which pillars were decorated with more jasmine and roses. At the back, between two pillars she saw a marble slab where lay a young teenager, face and limbs decorated as if he were going to a party. At the end of the slab, next to his feet, his mother was seated, sobbing. Amelia went right to her and attempted to hold her hand. The woman pulled away and concentrated her efforts on rubbing the feet of the dead teenager. 

A man who appeared to be her husband rose and offered his hand to Amelia. He apologized for his wife’s behaviour and said that it was on account of Amelia not having shared the Elixir. Apparently, his wife had wished to get some from Amelia before the death of her son, but the General tasked with that mission had not gone through with it in the best way possible. Amelia made this known to the father. She said things could have been different if they had asked her themselves. She might have spoken a tad loud as she sensed the whole Assembly of Melancholists turn towards her with hope glimmering in their eyes. Somehow, this made a chill go through her spine. She realized that some might do anything to get the Elixir for their offspring. Would they go to extreme lengths just for one vial or would they maybe imprison her and force her to keep making the Elixir for them? It was hard to say. She kept her eyes fixated on the teenager. He was so beautiful, it seemed unfair that he should not live anymore. His lifeless corpse still radiated an incredibly sad beauty, like a deer doomed to be slaughtered by a huntsman. All around, the Melancholists had started their mourning with wails that grew stronger, slowly but surely, reaching a pinnacle of sorrow expressed in that unified cry. It was as if the graveyard itself had started to cry, heaving and seething with an uncontrollable sorrow.

Rebirth - Solace

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

I slithered back home

I slithered back home
28 April 2022
Courtesy pinterest
I counted my scales
Irreducible creature
I was compounded

The dragon within
flew most immense distances
between sleep and wake

Iridescent wings,
chest multiplying colours
like serpent ablaze

A tail to tell tales
engorged with the wings’ passion
I slithered back home

Reading of the poem: 
Serpentine - Solace

The beast in me walked for a death to instill

The beast in me walked for a death to instill
19 April 2022
Courtesy Stefan Gesell
I walked once between daze and swoon
My hands at my sides my head in the moon
I bore in my insides a wild creature to come
A waif turning beast at the beat of the drum

I walked into winters that paved summers’ way
Like the trees that blossomed amidst rustling hay
I walked into nights darker than dying coal
I clasped coming suns like a deer her foal

Then I said come now beast would you spill
The gory insides of your ever recent kill?
The beast made no sound but shook its head
It bore no closeness to the recent dead

The beast in me walked for a death to instill
As I watched it leaving from my window sill
Inside I clutched the most fleeting remains
The beast had wiped me clean of its putrid stains

Reading of the poem:
Forsaken - Solace

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

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

Now ready to dry

Now ready to dry
27 December 2021
Courtesy biller.com
Cascading thoughts fly
Riveting performances
meet my starry eye

Fireworks reveal
a universe in a sigh
that slow flows me by

A peal of laughter (Appeal)
a sacrifice to the stars
in quest of the hours (Inquest)

Urgencies dissolved
natural phenomenon
unwinding my veils

Pray reach out to me
your hands token of despair
stroking sad my hair

Observe me throughout
I am a bunch of flowers
now ready to dry

Reading of the poem: 
River of Blue – Diane Arkenstone

A terrorist to love – part 3

A terrorist to love – part 3
20 December 2021

Courtesy istock.com
She thought back to those dark moments when she had been tortured while Manas was in captivity. It had seemed to last ages although it was only two weeks as she had discovered later. At the beginning of the torture, she was full of the resolve to fight and avoid giving crucial information, but it did not seem like they were searching for any information at all. They had put her feet in a bucket of water and periodically one of the three torturers present would put a wire in the bucket making her experience what seemed like a thousand shockwaves jolting through her body. They had kept doing it systematically until she lost consciousness. She could hear the prayers throughout the day while she was being tortured and that gave her the sense of what time of the day it was. 

She was never left alone, even during the time for prayers, as there was always one guard watching over her. The second day they had attached wires to her genitalia and every time the electricity went through it felt like her genitalia were on fire. Later, when she attempted to urinate, she found it was even more excruciating to pass urine than to suffer the electricity going through her genitalia as the effect of the burning lasted. She pleaded for a bucket of water but there was no moving them it seemed, even though she had started pleading in Arabic and invoking the name of Allah in her request. At last, one woman she had not seen before came to her and gave her a sponge filled with water so that she may wipe herself. This apparent mercy was no doubt due to the fact she had invoked the name of Allah and had done so in Arabic.

That temporary mercy did not last long though and they resumed torturing her. This time she was whipped repeatedly until she lost consciousness. She was then awakened with salts and whipped again. She could feel the skin on her back tear in smaller pieces than she could imagine possible. At the same time, they were repeatedly telling her something in a language she could not understand. A few moments later, one of the torturers who had understood her plea in Arabic came forward and said that she was being punished because she had persuaded Manas to give himself up. She understood from him that Manas was their leader and him going to prison exposed them all to getting caught if Manas talked under torture in prison. She answered that it had been necessary to keep him from being killed. She tried to explain to the man that being in a Cameroonian prison was a better option than him being caught by the US anti-terrorist squad operating in Cameroon. This did not end her ordeal though and she was tortured day after day with only a few hours of rest in the evening when they went to rest leaving only one guard watching her.

One day, without any warning, she was given new clothes and taken into a house that was in front of the shed where she had been tortured. The woman who had given her the sponge earlier took her to a bathing room where she was cuffed at both the hands and the ankles before the woman gently eased her into a bathtub full of warm water. Instead of soothing her, the contact with the water just seared the scars all over her body. She did not complain though as she realized they may be reaching an ending of some sort. It could be that they would kill her or that they would release her. She prayed it would be the latter and indeed, after slowly applying the sponge all over her body gently and attempting to clean her skin as much as she could on the back and with a bit more vigor on her front side, the woman asked her to stand up. As she stood up, the woman applied gently a balm to her back and gave her some asking her to apply it to her genitalia. 

She was then clothed gently with a white linen shirt and a matching flowing white linen skirt. She was then blindfolded and left in front of the US embassy where her boss had taken over from the embassy officials and told her she would be leaving in a day or two to Dubai. Her thoughts were immediately for Manas and she wondered whether she would ever see him again. She felt saddened and at the same time angry at her boss for his lack of empathy considering what she had endured. She also wondered: was Manas the person who had ordered her to be tortured in that way? Could it possibly mean that he did not love her anymore? She tried to soothe herself by thinking back to the days when they were together and to how much she had been happy with him. No, undoubtedly, Manas had not been the one to order her torture. She closed her eyes and could see behind her closed lids the beautiful image of Manas smiling at her. It was only that which had kept her sane during the torture.
Fadl Shaker &Yara Akhedni Maak فضل شاكر و يارا - خدنى معك

In branches of light

In branches of light
20 November 2021
Courtesy pinterest.com
Petals multiply
In intervals of breathing
exhaling essence

My heart reaches out
seeking out the knowing mind
hidden in the eye

With careful fingers
I unveil the flower’s core
Myriads of colours

There are silent trees
tall yet minute they resume
growing in my heart

Winding through mazes
they teach me the wise lessons
of imbued stillness

We wait together
for the peace that was revealed
in branches of light

Reading of the poem:
The Valley of Dreams - Stive Morgan
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge using the words “wait”, “wise” and their synonyms. For more information on the challenge and other artists’ work, please read here

https://ronovanwrites.com/2021/11/15/ronovan-writes-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-384-wait-wise/