Tag Archives: poetry duets

Landscapes of loneliness -Daily Prompt: Flawed

13 Dec

Today’s Daily Prompt: Flawed:

What is your worst quality?

I worry, a lot, too much. It stops me, makes me halt. It makes me hesitate, agitate, doubt. It has even stopped me writing for the past week. Post per day, that’s how it used to be, now it’s turned into hiding a post per day. I just want every dot to be perfect.

But this time I just decided to let it go. Here, I have poured all my worries out for you. I hope you can relate to it. No, actually, maybe not. I don’t wish ‘over-worrying’ to anyone, it makes everything so tangled up inside your head.

So instead, I hope you like it.

 

Landscapes of loneliness

 

A straightjacket of thoughts

clutching at me, biting at my cheeks

To silence me, as I dwell

In my imagined landscapes of loneliness

 

Everchanging, freezing glaciers

Melting into choking sand dunes

I tiptoe across this Sahara of sore memories

Like blisters pulsing under my skin

 

I’m falling deep down

Into Marianas Trench of my mind

Into misery and doubt, losing touch

Your touch, and all sight of reality

 

As  I imagine all my bad guides

Pestering fears and throbbing shivers

Shaking my heart, turning it into flaking plaster

Under the weight of these worries

 

What am I?

 

Lost, worrier or a warrior

Hopes in hiding, longing for love

Searching for a gateway, crying out

For the light winds of freedom

 

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Inspiration perspiration- sweating over creativity

2 Dec

 

What inspires you? Where do you draw passion and ideas from when you’re not surfing high on the wave of creativity? What melts your mental blocks?

 

To me, it’s probably nature, the harmony and strenght it possesses. But since we have gone from Winter bliss to winter blizzard:

The view outside my window on Friday morning. The obscure blur is the snow falling every which way possible.

The view outside my window on Friday morning. The obscure blur is snow falling every which way possible.

 

I have found refuge in art instead.  Munch is one of my all time favourite’s, although not the most cheerful bloke he surely does know how to express sentiments with colours! I just love the feeling in his paintings, so aching and melancholy. Also, one of the reasons I love music, art, literature, poetry, all of it, is because it shows beautifully just how original and yet how bound together we all are.  Your visions and feelings and ideas on the artwork below might be totally different from mine or from Munch’s, and yet as we both look at it, we are connected by it. Isn’t that quite miraculous?

 

Girl on the Bridge by Edvard Munch, I do not own any rights.

Girl on the Bridge by Edvard Munch, I do not own any rights.

 

The feeling of connection, the feeling of being part of something and of belonging,  is a precious feeling. I think it might just be happiness, or the root of it. Because we weren’t created to be alone.

And that’s why I got together with Hasty to write another poetry duet for you! I hope you enjoy reading it, and feeling it, as much as I enjoy writing them. Poetry duets have totally surprised me, they’re like a breathing dialogue of inspiration, so enrichening! And they always give you new perspective to writing as well. And isn’t that just what creativity is, a fresh angle or an idea?

Or what do you think, how would you define creativity?

 

Free falling

by Hastywords and me

 

Your mourning, blue lips

And the searching transparency

Of the morning light

Pushes us under the rhythm of life

 

Free falling, closed eyes

Into desecrated fields

Bodies sleeping cold and blind

Waiting for the ghosts of truth

 

All those gaunt prisoners on display

Stalking roads and alleyways

Worn out too many times

By your trembling feet, by mine

 

Spiral clouds melting daylight

The moon covered in dust

Seekers find refuge in memories

Hiding trauma behind their eyes

 

Unseeing days, blind nights

Static, empty landscapes like

Blank kaleidoscopes of the past

Washing out the mermaids of rebirth

 

My red lips of blazing fire kiss the land

Torching the rotting decay, then I cry

Upon the sand, springtime to start again

Filling reservoirs of revival in their minds

While Gaza Weeps

21 Nov

This poem is written as a duet by me and the ever inspiring, beautiful Hastywords. Once again, thank you for your words Hasty. They’re precious to me.

 

Photocredit: http://cmec.org.uk

 

While Gaza Weeps

 

The midnight calls

Tempermental notes

Sighing, resigning

As the spectators watch

 

Raindrops weeping

Raw acid falling

Erasing lives, eroding holes

As the two worlds collide

 

Night grasps at daylight

Greedily eats at time

Layers upon layers collapse

Spanning the spectrums we hide

 

This crumbling shadow play

Sweeps over the castles we build

From the ashes of our history

Sends the petals of dead spinning

 

Lured from their graves

From their departed sorrows

Children giggle, peeking

As ancestors parade on by

 

Their laugh resonates through the bones

It waters the bomb-sites and

Out of them grow

Shining Snowdrops of tomorrow

 

—-

May the people in this world, the people who have known war and suffering, find happiness and peace. I hope that once this world will be a more loving place, and today I want to give you all the love and strenght my little heart can carry.

Because to change this world for better, your heart does not need to be big or old, it does not need to carry the wisdom of the ancient trees. All your heart needs to know is love and how to share that love.

Take care, of yourself and of others in need. Peace!

Killing Skeletons

8 Nov

This piece I wrote together with Hastywords (check out her beautiful work!), my first poetry duet ever yay!  Thanks for the amazing writing company, Hasty. There is nothing to refresh your creativity and perspective like brainstorming ideas and getting together with someone. So my advice for you today is: Don’t be alone in life. Everyone here has something precious to give.

 

Killing skeletons

I walk the halls of endless nights

Looking for the perfect escape

Conversations shouting at me

Scattered behind each door

 

And the words, pawing sniffing

Scampering words of past come

Knocking down my soul, they ask

Why would we let you pass?

 

A cacophony of accusations

Scratching clawing behind the walls

Skeletons tired of picking bones

Clamoring to see the light of day

 

Hungry they wait till I break

Their ribcages and transform them

Into boats of fond remembrance

Watch them float into future

 

The hallways vacant and silent now

All the ghostly prisoners set free

I open all the windows

Allowing new visions to take shape

 

Till my soul is filled with nakedness

And the happiness hot on my eyelids

Forges me a new sight

Till all is bathed bare and fresh