Acquisition ~ rubaiyat

Ken honors me with his (as always) thoughtful and hopeful response.

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Acquisition

I hold aloft what holds me down,
My sense of self, as yet unsound.
No sense of where my mind should be,
My troubles named, within me found.

And yet this weight that’s placed on me
Need not be what the world should see.
Acknowledging that I’m not bound
May offer possibilities.

All month, I held off from attempting to write a rubaiyat, finding no interest in the form. I guess I just needed something to write about. I found that in Kerfe Roig’s Inquisition. I left this as a comment, and I’m just under the wire for Frank Hubeny’s month-long prompt at dVerse, Poetry Forms: Rubaiyat.  This is written in iambic tetrameter, with a rhyme scheme of AABA BBAB.

Image source: pngtree.com

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inquisition

Where do I hide?  I build this tree,
the branches tangled over me,
I ask myself:  how will I know
what voids this curse?  what sets me free?

I sit and sit. The hours grow.
The birds have wings—they come and go.
My rhythm cannot hold their song.
How can I breathe?  What cries the crow?

My body emptying skin to bone,
my mind hardening into stone,
falling like silence to the ground–
How do I bide?  I lie alone.

The sea and sky cannot be found.
Memories circle round and round,
searching for possibility–
How am I held?  Where am I bound?

Frank at dVerse has asked us to consider blame and forgiveness.  And a final rubaiyat for the month of February, with short lines this time.

 The hardest person to forgive is often yourself.

A poem and a sketch

Kerfe gave me a set of magnetic poetry words and they are cool. At her urging (I’ve been pretty dormant) I illustrated a poem. Here’s the poem.

I think it cool that you can see my reflection in the metal easel. Very windy in NJ this morning but yesterday I saw some little snowbell flowers emerging from the earth!

Ancestors

My ancestors linger in every word I say,
the muted phrases and images that occupy
the dreams in the sequestered corners of my mind,
hesitating between darkness and light of day

My ancestors linger in the prayers left behind,
unexpected melodies, songs upon the wind
opening windows into transformed cloistered spheres,
a fracturing of landscapes, the earth unconfined

My ancestors linger as seas on summer air,
as darkness covering the winter of the year,
as harvests of colors released by autumn’s trees,
as cells that stir when spring awakens, reappears

Another rubaiyat, for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  The stone looks very much like a hand reaching out to me.

I was repeating one of my grandmother’s sayings to myself, which made me think of all the ways I repeat and echo the members of my family.  Probably in ways I don’t even realize, and further afield than I will ever understand.

You can read more ribaiyat poetry at the dVerse link, here.

 

In a Land of Birds

Wake up in a land of birds.
the holy chaos unfolds outside borders.
Expect owls,
spirit circles orbiting stars.

Some people find it uncomfortable–
so much is random–
we can’t explain it, ever.

Take a chance–
spread your wings.
Nothing is hidden
when wonder takes flight.

I’ve been worrying this collage all week.  It’s inspired by a painting by Redon, “Silence”, above.

I decided to consult the Collage Box Oracle and She was insistent on the inclusion of birds.

She knows the answer, as always.

The Looming Unknown

My dreams fall
over the edge of
the fullness
of moons vast
with perplexity and play–
rapt with lunacy

A shadorma for Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday words, trouble and game.

Also linking to dVerse open link night, hosted by Lillian.

 

Transitional

The earth has its own song–lavish, extravagantly
saturated with rich hue—voices that fall gently,
multiplying as they emerge–seeds that spill, turning,
unseen, marinating in the music of to be

To watch to walk the day and hold the descant, breathing
following the wind in liquid sky awash, swimming
full and boundless, basking in the light of distant orbs
as the air chills, covers itself—radiant, waiting

Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, seemed perfect for a rubaiyat emphasizing imagery, as requested by Jilly at dVerse.  This time I managed 13 syllable lines.

The rubaiyat is the poetic form at dVerse for the month of February, and I expect to try at least one more.

 

Shell

The Oracle today was short and sweet.

wander into this sea-leaving
let the soul walk a spiral path
be the seed of moonlight
tendriled between secret vines

 

Ferrying

“We’re all working for the Pharaoh”–Richard Thompson

A body
in motion through air–
static, turn-
ing, turning,
sparks reflected on water–
turning into earth–

Adjacent
to the sky, do bones
become light?–
currents that
connect flesh to elements,
inseparable,

Opening
until unseen—sounds
felt, not heard–
veins branching
like trees carrying cells that
nourish, then destroy—

A sudden
change in direction,
drowning and
coming up for
more—impossible to tell
what is or isn’t—

Undarking
the night, withering
the sun—what
grows secret,
exposed by shadow?—what grows
wings, rises, takes flight?

 

This was a response to the challenge image above at The Ekphrastic Review. I immediately thought of 2 things:  the world’s refugees attempting to reach safety by boat, and Richard Thompson’s song “Pharaoh”.

My poem wasn’t chosen, but it inspired a collage in the spirit of my thoughts if not exactly a match to my words.  The winning poems posted on The Ekprastic Review can be found here.

And Richard Thompson…

 

Toward

Air
sharper
now—the cold
transforms sunset
clouds with furied
winds—far away you drive
distances, all bearings lost–
here alone, I wish for headwinds
to turn your wheels around—back to me

Colleen’s #tanka Tuesday words this week are meaning and passion.  The winds have certainly been impassioned here of late.

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I hope all your loved ones are on their way home.