hey poet, I would like to walk with you

I was hollow, still am if you prod my vocabulary

to pinpoint that sensation when I desert the words

or do they me, the time is my solemn constabulary

and shields my malady I tell of, or so you’ve heard

 .

how you see my silver stories, filled cups of caffeine,

I cherish yours for they have a linen white reality

thou art a poet, I am a subjective grain seldom seen,

it was a dire dare that made me relinquish my sanity

 .

I am a sentimental sucker, I suck blood red lollipops

to keep me company, I would like to walk with you

you don’t know me but I encroach upon, I shop

for a locket of learning in creative world you drew

 .

I seal a numinous bond with your words, your poetry,

a stubborn in-patient, would you empathize with me?

I wilt within the blanket, my knees sing of coquetry

no grudge, no love, observing, I sail in waves of glee

 .

and I think to revere you poet of old, I shall holler

that I receive from all that you touch with your color

.

For MLM Menagerie’s Wordle # 17 and dVerse, where the odes/tributes to the poets flow out  today.

Anm

Image source

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World of WP by Ramblings From A Mum

We have another wonderful poet today, sharing words with us. She is a writer, who incorporates one’s feelings during various situations in life in a really tender manner. You want to savor her words and listen to their music as they flow down the course of the poem smoothly. Some of you must know her by the name of her blog- Ramblings From A Mum. Today, she shares with us her experiences of blogging and what she thinks about the writers from all around the world connecting with each other through the wordpress domain.

Howanxious or HA as I refer to him wrote a post on the 30th September, 2013 and in this post he mentioned that he shares Guest Blogs on his site, well one thing led to another and I ‘volunteered’ to write.

So it’s a good morning…afternoon…evening to everyone, wherever you may be. I am ramblingsfromamum from the Land Down Under.

I have read many a guest blog since commencing with WP over a year ago and have often wondered, if asked or in this case put myself up for the challenge, what in fact I would write about.  So I will do what I sometimes do when writing my poetry and let my SOC (stream of consciousness) take over & see where we end up.

If any of you have read what I write, you may know that I am diverse and somewhat prolific. The subject matter is not confrontational, political, or that life is a bed of roses and we should all be hugging trees and each other for that matter.  What I have learned since blogging is that every single one of us is so unique in our posts.

We should never judge another writers style, rather we should be respectful of each others work.

I thankfully have not born the disgruntled reader of my work (as yet) in fact I am delighted to say that I have had nothing but a ‘pat on the back’, support and admiration from my readers & this as we know makes our ‘addiction’  even more worthwhile.

I commenced writing ‘mum’ articles  hence my site name.  This then progressed to dabbling in poetry, then about my family, my weekends. In fact anything that pops into my head, when I sit in my study in Melbourne Australia, this is what I write about.

Gradually I found myself writing more poetry, dabbling into forms such as Haiku and Sonnets and Nonets …what some of you may ask? Google is a wonderful tool, you certainly don’t need me to tell you what they are, if you don’t already know. I found myself however being drawn further into the poetic pool as it were, wanting to see how I could write, was it worthy, was it acceptable.  I write as most poets do, from raw gut emotion, from the heart, from the soul. My site now probably consists of 80% poetry and the rest,  well simply day to day ramblings from a mum. If people follow and enjoy what I do, I am a happy camper as they say, but I’m still in the pool and I am swimming in circles until I climb that diving board and perform a triple backward, with a half turn pike twist (whatever that means).

Being an Australian, I am down to earth, I hide nothing, nor do I pretend to be someone I am not. I do not lie, cause trouble for other bloggers, or stir the pot.  I believe in blogging etiquette, I am a firm believer however that if you are following someone, that you should be respectful in commenting on what they write. The writer has poured their heart and soul into what ever context and this should be acknowledged. I will say that I do not read every single post that comes out, I used too but I found myself burning out and stressing because I simply could not keep up.  So I try to read as much as I physically and mentally can manage.

Out of the followers that I have, there are my ‘regulars’ who comment, these are folk who have been reading ‘me’ since my sites inception, others hit that like button within 5 seconds of posting an article (I think we all have witnessed that happening) others never visit, which makes me wonder why they do follow?

Does anyone have answers, as I am sure there is many a ‘blogger’ (I do hate that word) out there that asks the same question.

Why did we come onto a blog site? I ask myself many times. Being human, that pat on the back or recognition for what we do in life is always appreciated.

Could we not sit at home and write in a journal all that we do on WP?  Yes indeed we could, but we all like to have some praise in/for whatever we undertake, writing on a public Forum such as WP grants us that. The other reason is that it opens many doors for all of us to meet others who have the same likes as we do ( & no nothing to do with that button).  I have met fellow poets and brilliant ones at that. I have met writers, photographers, all have a life story, all have something they wish to share with the world.

If we were to write in journals alone in the privacy of our room, who would we meet, how would we learn what others are doing? How we would establish friendships with people that have the same interests.  This avenue is a remarkable way of meeting similar others, learning new skills and becoming part of a community.

It can be obsessive, it can be time consuming, especially if you wish to follow many, it can be your life at times, the cooking can wait, the laundry doesn’t need washing, the list of our everyday can be put on the back burner as we delve with our muses into the writing or blogging realm.

In saying that – this is what we love isn’t it?  We are givers  of the world to share sometimes even parts of our lives which would be considered boring or mundane.

So I shall close now, stay true to who you are with your blogs, challenge yourselves. If you write short fiction write poetry, if you don’t enter prompts or challenges try them. Share your lives or interests as much or as little as you wish, but remember to connect with those that follow you and who you follow – after all we must play nice 🙂

The world of writers & people from all over the globe with like interests is only a name & a password away.

Thank you HA for the opportunity of being your guest, thank you for your marvelous poetry that I read (most of the time) may all of us continue along this wonderful path of opening our minds to others, learning and sharing, supporting and encouraging!

I thank you for sharing your words with us. It was so good to read your viewpoints. And I do agree with everything you have discussed with us today.

She has such a lively personality. Don’t you think so? She has a wonderful poetic voice. Do go and visit her website;  you are definitely going to be impressed.

If you want to share your words on this site, just write to me at hamusesanewtune@gmail.com. If not, I would anyway love to hear from you. Come on, say hi to me and introduce yourself on my facebook page.

Baby… my love for thee…

baby… my love for thee

is a story of the day,

I store my night away,

in a tight cocoon, with barricades,

within which, I play my spades,

 .

baby… my love for thee

is the light of the sun,

shoot me with your love gun,

riding, through the dreams,

taste of freshly whipped cream,

 .

baby… my love for thee

is the dance with the blues,

the sax(on) glittering hues,

a slight convulse of the waist,

music in my numb ears, I taste,

 .

oh baby… my love for thee,

can’t speak… I am so full of glee,

 .

baby… baby… baby…

 .

I am an old soul but the night is young,

sweet-bitter saliva at tongue,

metallic… I see you in darkness,

don’t you go make me digress,

 .

oh babe-ey … it is the woody voice of bass,

this harmony, we cannot pass,

oh babe-ey… the drums beat soothing,

let us join hands and go brooding,

 .

baby… my love for thee

is the string of guitar,

the effervescent music of sitar,

oh babe-ey… piano beckons us,

we talk in language of Damascus,

 .

baby… my love for thee,

poisoned wine dripping from flute,

it may make me go mute,

oh babe-ey… but I will live for you,

and for my love for blues,

.

baby… my love for thee,

can’t speak, I am so full of glee

* I like jazz. This poem is written in consideration of dVerse Meeting the Bar. I don’t know whether I have done justice with it or not but I wrote it, just as it came to me.

Letter To A Poet: A Medley of Cinquains

nudging

me in my dreams,

rapier of your words,

penetrating deep, would not let

me sleep,

.

the sounds

of your verses,

playing a symphony

in cavern of my ears, won’t let

me sleep,

.

cadence

and treasured rhymes

make me smile at odd times,

entrancing my soul, would not let

me sleep,

.

your voice

that I could hear

in the deep crevices

welled up in my heart, would not let

me sleep,

.

 thy love

you are pouring

in the fragrant garland

that enfolds your poem, won’t let

me sleep,

.

you are

an artist who

spots a new vivid world

in normal surroundings, please let

me sleep,

.

aura

of creations,

that which resides in you

breaches my every shield, won’t let

me sleep,

.

open

my weak eyelids

in search of you so as

to read you within, giving up

my sleep,

.

letter

to my kindred

who nurses a poem

like a small child who does not let

them sleep,

.

no need

of rest when we

can stay awake whole night

etching ourselves in words, letting

off sleep

.

* First of all, this is a medley of Cinquains which I have used to create an Epistolary Poem. It was quite a fun task.

** I am submitting the link for dVerse Poetics where we have been called to write a letter through a poem.

Takenoko/Bamboo Shoots Haiku

going up and up

reaching for eternity

rigid, tall and straight

.

evergreen bamboo

shoots cut down and thinly sliced

boiled, to feast upon

.

survival circles

displayed around the body

every few inches

.

ward off the evil

takenoko surrounding

lonely Shinto shrine

.

wet and slippery

showered in the morning rain

a bamboo-poet writes

.

a childish cutter

gash shining stalk of bamboo

emerge moon goddess

.

shedding those gold tears

watching in pain, her moon world

born from bamboo stalk

* Written for Carpe Diem # 217 Takenoko/Bamboo Shoots

* The last two haiku are derived from a Japanese folktale; The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. I came to know about it in a Japanese cartoon show once.

Sylvia Plath- her voice still echoes around…

Here is my tribute to Sylvia Plath; a villanelle-

her voice still echoes around

the lone bird, lost in the mirrors of time

faded, yet there with a fluttering sound

 

hear, take it in, let it be found

moaning in pain, narrating the crime

her voice still echoes around

 

her body decaying in the burial ground

she is gone, leaving behind her life’s dime

faded, yet there with a fluttering sound

 

the years she spent but being bound

a prisoner to her own mind’s rime

her voice still echoes around

 

leaving nothing behind her, no expound

just her work, her prayers, so sublime

faded, yet there with a fluttering sound

 

oh Sylvia Plath, you are indeed crowned

the queen, amid the humanity’s grime 

your voice still echoes around

faded, yet there with a fluttering sound