Poetry, Real Toads

snap

Gate
A gate on the land catches morning sun

Shadow and light

a simple thing

but the most profound

That eternal dance paints daily songs

on my soul

I can’t see one without the other

can’t feel either alone

 twin sisters

beckon me

always

all days

to seek

balance

i love the fall of light in the morning

i love how i notice it through the shadows

i catch them whole

and swallow self

shadlit
Morning leaf lit dance

submission for Karen’s midweek challenge at Toads

Notes: Morning or evening walks, when the light and therefore the shadows are at play, always lift my sense of being, of presence. Leaf, twig, fence-wire, gate…simple things catch my eye and bring me to a moment where I can be still and snap ( in a good way)

 

dVerse

windows

Our prompt for Haibun Monday is offered by Toni

(Photograph of Francesca by me taken with Pentax Me Super and Tmax 100 film stock)

“Were it not for shadows, there would be no beauty.”
― Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows

So…shadows is a pretty open theme. The only rules are:
• Must be written in Classic Japanese form with one to two tight paragraphs with a seasonal haiku to wrap it up.
• Must be true and have actually happened to you.
Write about shadows! The shadow knows…mwahahahahahahaaaa!

Here is how to play!
*Write your haibun and link it to this post.
*Add the link to Mr. Linky below this.
*Read and comment on others who have linked. It is how we grow our community and it is always interesting and useful to see how others responded to the prompt.
**Get to know your fellow poets better!
Post on your social media #dversepoets

And most of all, have fun!

The studio was a small room in an old warehouse. Just big enough for the two of us and the lights. It was bloody cold. The black material draped across a wooden pole served as the shadow out of which the portrait could be birthed. We improvised with a blanket that served a dual purpose. It offered a frame and it kept her blue hands from deepening that shade.

Light fell on her face as if window borne but this box was all wall. Catch lit eyes reflected something of her own shadow perhaps. It was hard to tell. I didn’t know her. I was essentially there to shoot fine art nudes but when the films were developed it was the portrait that took my breath away when it floated dreamily out of the darkroom tray to offer me a glimpse of soul.

strangers in a room

winter cold cuts to the bone

eyes burn in shadow

 

 

 

 

Poetry, Spirituality

gone

a poem inspired by attendance at a despacho ceremony

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galactic intervention crew

reporting for

due tea

dandy chai

salved third eye

 

seeded from crystal spaceships

monkey tripping

psilocybin

crazy painting

ancestors

 

echo into now

the world outside

is inside

we are Blake’s grain

of sand

 

of truth

of rice

of petal

of frankincense

of cobal

 

of shell

of tobacco

of spirit

of golden thread

of leaf

 

of rhythm

of celebration

of prayer

of miracle spray

of heart

 

tis this we pray

desperado despacho

outlaws of

natural laws

of human flaws

 

melting pot

sacred hot

sending prayer

to everywhere

from the city of shadows

 

fire outside

spark inside

shadow-play

as elements pray

in vortex dance

 

soft engine purr

and siren shriek

or big cat medicine

and sacred beak

where am i?

 

the city

or the citadel?

time stops

space is no more

who am i?

 

we held a charm

blessed by our breath

then let it fly

on the universal breath

wind from the North

 

clearing the way

breathing in new life

a light falls on the shadow

gentle and soft

and we are gone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

dVerse, Love, Poetry

the journey

Hosted by this is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub

You are free to pick ONE poem of your choice to share today.

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This is a work in progress and the theme is the journey into and out of depression. I am not there now. These thoughts are penned from many different experiences and times past. There is a form here that meets itself in the middle..the first line mirrors the last both in image and meter, the second the second last and so on until both threads meet at the mid point. The poem descends and then ascends into and out of this point.Two halves of the same coin…wings of yin and yang. Enjoy the journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dark black void engulfing me

i am lost in this eternity

hopelessness spills from my veins

no more tears

heart shut

from the outside in

vulnerability

no love

out pours silent scream

void unto the void

grow no more

this journey has come to it’s bitter end

i go

stand in the garden of the debris of me

there is nothing here at all

no touch

no sight

no more feeling

no longer any sense of perception

lost and longer lost

there is no core to me

no more joy

no hope

no spark of light to tend to

a cold shadow envelops me

i shiver in this chill dawn

falling away and losing the light of lights

dark black shapeless thing

crucible of shamed me

not even able to surrender

i was completely lost

i gave it all up

no time

i fell and i fell

there was no edge to this sea this

black void

the depths to which I was falling

no one could see

i new it to be

to be true always. always i knew it

‘nothing

this is who you are

don’t waste your time’

it’s as if the pile of dark matter was laughing at me

nothing here

i am the futility

day after day

nothing

there is just nothing here

in this darkest of places

within me

where all that I could see was bad

dissipation of good

smothering me

and nothing it was everywhere

nothing is  what I found

nothing to look for in here

eternity

it took a while

searching among the debris

always finding nothing

there was of course a lot of it

debris that is

accumulated piles

of everything i thought was bad

about me

in that darkest of places

there must be something here

something

time after time

i came up empty handed

nothing there

it’s as if the pile of dark matter was laughing at me

‘don’t waste your time

this is who you are

nothing’ 

i behaved as if it were true. sometimes

most times

i so believed it

others did not

they told me they could see something

something

but when i looked i could not find

i looked and i looked

for years

i never gave up

and one day i found it

a tiny little glowing ember

hidden in the debris

soft warm loving thing

i picked it up and it glowed a little more

i cocooned it in my palms

felt its warmth spread across my being

this tiny little ember

this hope

this small joy

this core part of me

no longer lost

no longer someone else’s perception

i could feel it

see it

touch it

this tiny little ember

here in the garden of the debris of me 

a glow

this tiny little ember has begun

to grow and

layer by layer

i let in the love

my love

like making an onion

from the inside out

heart open

tears flowing

gratitude flowing through my veins

i am blessed with this discovery

this tiny little ember

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dVerse, Love, Poetry

blessed be

Our dVerse prompt tonight for Poetics comes from Mish

Today I am asking you to write a poem about one memento. You may use a souvenir from your travels, a photo, a keepsake from a special moment or event, perhaps a small token that is dear to your heart. Let it channel the emotion and significance that it holds for you. Give us a little piece of your past, a glimpse of who you are. If you find this perspective too personal, feel free to use a fictitious memento and/or voice.

photo by me of my then ‘wife to be’ on the beach at Portmeirion 1985

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

as the camera found you in that pose

sinking like a tai chi master

into the sandy earth

at one with it all

the shutter fired

echoing the last glow of the sun

light touched us both in that moment

and landed squarely on the film

love beckoned us

a universal wave

gently lapping at the shore

of our life to be

‘come in’ it said

all will be well

that evening as we lay together

doing the deep soul eye dance

and touching each other

with exquisite newness

and with such reverence

a door opened and a seed was planted

and we the gardeners of this bliss

we knew

that life was unfolding to another level

9 months on

garden provides harvest

then we two became three

now we are five

and you

you are still

the light in my life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dVerse, Poetry

the dark blanket

Image Source~Image Source~

Over at dVerse poets pub Grace host tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi everyone! Welcome to our OpenLinkNight ! This is your opportunity to link 1 poem of your choice as this is no prompt-day. For those who missed the Mr Linky deadline the past week or this Tuesday’s poetics about the “muse mixology” poem, this is also your opportunity to share your poem.   I also want to remind you that our Haibun Monday is still open the whole week.

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“I am not what happened to me,                                                                                                                                                            I am what I choose to become.”  Carl Jung.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How to catch a cloud?

or fish out a reflection?

How to listen to and hear

the face in the mirror

that outside inside YOU

that tells you what you are not?

How to dance with stillness

and run to no place

to hide in plain sight?

How to express the inexpressible?

To feel that which is nameless and

to colour it invisible?

How to HOWL in the silence and

look like there is nothing going on?

How to fit because you think you must

and when everyone is trying to do that

surely none of us need to?

How to be the Me that has

thus far

escaped

my wispy

grasping?

I see you clearly and honor that

so easily

but it is only

illusion.

Filtered through a lack of seeing

ME.

Cracked lens world view.

Broken at birth.

Original syn-

tax on my soul.

Dark dis(comfort) blanket.

or is it?

how do I define a part of ME

without ME?

In truth I am

everywhere.

In the shadow

In the light.

I am here

and in the mirror.

The reflection is caught by itself.

There is no separation.

No illusion.

No walls.

No bridges.

No dark.

No light.

No point.

~~~~~~~

Over the years depression has come to visit me and then departed. No matter how many times it comes to stay, there always remains the possibility of it being the last.

It’s still that scary at times, despite years of personal development work on my behalf. Despite knowing how loved I am by family and community.

‘I might not make it through this time’ or ‘what is the point anymore’ are thoughts that occur still in the darkness.

For some people that darkest hour holds no promise of dawn. They never get to see it.

I understand that and I am so blessed to wake this day and see my own dawn once again. Perhaps this was depression’s last visit. I doubt it.

So work with it I must continue to do. Writing for me is an essential part of that process and so today I wanted to write about depression.

I strive to be of value in this world. To live in service to a greater good. To help my fellow human companions on their journey. All of them wherever I encounter them in real or virtual time.

I know now I don’t need to be perfect to achieve that. I know that by pulling myself out of the darkness each time it falls, I move into a place of more balance.

I can see both sides now.

I know that the light can consume me just as easily as the dark if I am not vigilant.

All I can offer is my own truth.

Authentic and cracked.

* Note: The conversation below about The Black Dog came about because I originally linked a video about depression to this poem. I have removed it after a conversation with Zenia because it holds Black Dogs in a poor light. There was no reference to The Black Dog in the Poem except the title which I have also changed.

Let’s see Black Dogs in the same light as all Dogs.

 

dVerse

blinded by the light

photo by me

Bjorn provides the prompt for this Haibun Monday.

Today I would like you to write a haibun on any subject that you like. but you should illustrate it with one picture, and let picture prose and haiku complement each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winter’s dark blanket has fallen upon me and assails my very soul this day. Falling into shadow and sitting here with an old wound, I try to bring tears but the well is dry. Perhaps it was always so.How many times can you hear that boys don’t cry without it becoming your reality? So I walk. Into the mornings light in search of an answer to this ancestor’s curse but I carry the blanket with me and despite what my eyes can see there is only a darkness shrouding my being.

Light plays a sonnet

whilst my dark soul sings its dirge

winter light reflects

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~