For B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond – Dedicated to Dylan – October 26, 2016

This week when I went to see what Paloma had decided to write about on Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie I was delighted to see she was asking us to write a shadorma or series of shadorma inspiring ourselves from Bob Dylan who this year  was awarded the Nobel for Literature 2016.

Listening to his music once again brought me back to my adolescence.  I was not a bright and chirpy teenager I’m afraid.  Due to my personal problems with my parents I’d turned towards the darker side of life, the futility and hopelessness of a world without reason and love at least so it was then in my mind.  I would sit for hours, music full blast in a candle lit room listening to the angry and often obscure lyrics of the music of my age …  Bob Dylan was one of my favourites with his flat smoky voice and gut moving lyrics.


Things Have Changed
A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train
Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
This place ain’t doing me any good
I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove
Lotta water under the bridge, lotta other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand
Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet
Putting her in a wheel barrow and wheeling her down the street
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
You can hurt someone and not even know it
The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity
Gonna get lowdown, gonna fly high
All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie
I’m love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
Bob Dylan
Everything changes and sometimes that’s for the best and sometimes for the worse … but usually  it’s just what it is…  here’s my attempt at a shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) based on the above lyrics of one of Dylan’s more recent songs (2009).  I’m not quite the same as I was in the 60s and can’t really get into that darkness … but oh well … there’s worse things that can happen:
The change of a Phoenix dying

time’s passin’
and when I look ’round
ideals gone
fires quenched
inside the secret mirror
well, everything changed

no lost loves
full of brave new words
time just passed
leaving me
dry-eyed and disillusioned
with my should have beens

time drifts on
getting through a day
a new way
without hurting, pain and you
just floating along

change that isn’t change
antique pain
weeds – grown in a potter’s field
over my childhood grave

seems to change but me
hidden in this music box
filled up with truth’s lies

maybe love
(that illusive flower)
and ideals
have a place
in this crazy wonderland
of amazing grace

let me fly
(though you can ask why)
just because
I was born …
and now everything changes
as the Phoenix dies

© Gsk ‘16

It seems to me whilst I’m listening to Dylan’s music that his subject matter hasn’t really changed all that much throughout his life – his songs are often about his perception of the dark side of life.  Here he isn’t speaking of masters of war or walking around a watchtower that is life but it’s still the desperate insight into life itself,  this time growing older and losing ones ideals to a reality painted without hope, where one doesn’t care,  where one is easily hurt but hides it and hurts others without being aware of doing so.
Here’s another of my favourites –  Mr. Tambourine Man to take us onto another trip😉 the music is bright and peppy but if you think this is chirpy song … think again, here are the LYRICS.



An evening walk – A Story in Waka – October 16, 2016

An evening walk – A Story in Waka

crossing Arco’s bridge
the gloaming paints the clouds
three broken street lamps
add to the skyline etching
how lovely shadows can be

cars whiz past
still the geraniums bloom
on the bridge railings

crossing the road
under shadowy clouds
through rushing traffic
how unlike the river Sarca
this modern flow of steel

under pools of gold
from lamplight to lamplight
this road leads home

the dark path

ahi – noisy dog
jumping and barking loudly
behind closed gates
whether challenge or welcome
it goes unheeded

old stone wall
silently guides lone footsteps
up this moonlit path

the stream is silent
under the wooden bridge
despite morning rains

the church bells strike eight
as I enter town
light spills from closed windows
bodiless voices drift by

I unlock my door
a cautious cat looks on
just beyond my reach

© Gsk ‘16

Just a note … where I am right now – October 5, 2016


Hello Everyone:

When I first opened my blog I had no particular goal in mind.  Then in March of that year I began to write poetry thanks to a defunct prompting blog and at the same time, elsewhere, I discovered power-shorts and other short forms of micro-prose and I started having fun.  I later discovered how to develop and upload photographs to illustrate my writing. Eventually I moved to Japanese poetry and haiga …

During all that time I was also struggling in a difficult marital relationship.  My companion was never very supportive of anything I did.  He had a lot of anger inside and tended to lash out against others. The closer a person was to him the more difficult it was for those people to live with him. He was rarely physically violent – so he felt safe in saying to himself that he wasn’t violent. But he was very violent psychologically and he did everything he could to persuade me to close down my blogs. Which was why I wrote at 5:00 in the morning. It was a compromise I was willing to take to keep writing without provoking his insecurities.  Which didn’t always work as I’m sure anyone who’s had this sort of problem will know.

Last October,  after a more violent storm than usual over a banality (the change from daylight savings time) I fled my home to get away from his rages.  It wasn’t the first time, but intimately I’d decided, no matter what the cost, I was going to leave him. The next afternoon a phone call came informing my son and I that he was dead, he’d died in an traffic accident.

In this sort of situation, the first thing that comes to mind is that there must be a mistake.  You don’t feel much … just sort of a numbness … no real surprise no shock just disbelief.  “No,” you say “that’s just not possible.”  It’s the people huddling around you – and the phone calls from people you’ve not heard from in years – trying to tell you everything is going to be “ok” that convinces you that there’s something wrong. To me it just kept feeling sort of distant.  I’d feel something like sadness but it would drift away and I’d feel numb again.

Then I felt relieved.  He wasn’t going to rage at me anymore.  No more flying furniture.  No more denigration.  No more fights.  Those who knew him and know me, told me I shouldn’t feel guilty – even before I felt that relief (which made me feel guilty). Feeling sad for the loss of someone mixed with the relief that a bad situation is over isn’t easy to focus on.  What is even more difficult is moving on.  During the 28 years I was with my husband our relationship became more and more closed.  It was hard to make friends with him constantly judging everyone so our friendships with other couples became stillborn affairs pretty quickly.  We didn’t have many friends. The friends I made outside our relationship were fragile affairs that lived on the time borrowed from my marriage.

I’m not a person who talks about my feelings … I’ve become sort of detached.  I’ve worked very hard to become detached to live in the here and now ;  to concentrate on the juicy strawberry whilst the tiger above and the tiger below wait for me to decide to climb up or fall into the gully.  I can tell you all about the moon reflected in a pond just reflecting a bit of reality.  I knew that my husband’s rages weren’t my husband’s nature.  I knew that he felt terribly about his rages – but couldn’t do a damned thing about controlling them – in fact it was a miracle he’d never beaten me up physically.

A friend asked me why I didn’t leave him.  I guess I could say that I didn’t leave him because I didn’t know where to go but that’s a lie.  In a very worse case scenario I always knew I could go home to the States.  I’d found a job at one time and I could have moved out and gotten an apartment.  I thought about leaving him, I really did.  Then I’d think that he’d have felt devastated – he was always so very aware of being alone, he knew everyone preferred not to have to deal with him.  I didn’t leave him because I’d committed myself to our relationship – because I knew that in his own way he did love me and in my way I loved him.

So now sometimes I think, he’d somehow guessed that I wasn’t coming back this time and I wonder if the accident was really an accident.  Of course there’s no way to know if any of this is more than my guilt feelings jabbing me in my conscience.  He’s gone and the battles are over.  He doesn’t have to feel detested any more and I don’t have to pretend that all that anguish wasn’t painful.  I feel lonesome sometimes.  I feel free sometimes.  I also feel like I want to wait a long long time before I even ever want to begin to think of ever having another relationship.

And that’s where I am right now.  I don’t feel inspired to write very often.  I don’t feel very inspired to go for walks anymore either.  Right now I’m drifting – so I’ve made an appointment with a psychologist to help me work through some of these feelings that are walled up inside me, basically because I’ve no one to talk to about these issues.

Maybe I’ll be a better writer for all this … or maybe I’ll never really be able to write at all.  As my Sis would say, it is what it is.  But I hope to get back to writing soon.

Ciao, Georgia

Homage to D. H. Lawrence – Autumn Rain – October 1, 2016

Rain Lights

Autumn Rain

The rain falls
a harvest of tears
black and wet
sheaves of pain
as the stalks droop and are drawn
what was sown is reaped.

Into the cold
no warmth awaits now
dripping rain
falling leaves
no thoughts of resurrection
men are slain – rain falls.

in the falling rain
winter fields
lie fallow
until the awakening
in heaven’s fields set.

Gsk ’16

Today I returned to B&P Shadorma & Beyond introducing a poem by D.H. Lawrence for a shadorma interpretation by our readers … the above is my interpretation and the following is Lawrence’s poem:

Autumn Rain

The plane leaves
fall black and wet
on the lawn;

the cloud sheaves
in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;
the seed of heaven
on my face

falling — I hear again
like echoes even
that softly pace

heaven’s muffled floor,
the winds that tread
out all the grain

of tears, the store
in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:
the sheaves of dead
men that are slain

now winnowed soft
on the floor of heaven;
manna invisible

of all the pain
here to us given;
finely divisible
falling as rain.

D. H. Lawrence

Written for B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond at MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie

bare limbs – haiku – October 1, 2016

bare tree

morning haze
caressing these bare limbs
beside the lake

Gsk ’16

Carpe Diem #1069 leafless trees – inspiration offered by Jane Reichhold’s series of haiku:

from the wind
the flute lesson
of a bare tree

wood smoke
shaping the radiant bodies
of trees in winter

in the clearing
hovering a circle of trees
their halos

© Jane Reichhold


Autumn Afternoon in Padua – September 29, 2016

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a sunny day
this short parenthesis
of autumn
before we pick up
our lives

© Gsk ‘16

questa giornata
questa breve parentesi
prima di riprendere
le nostre vite

© Gsk ‘16

Autumn Thoughts – Waka – September 29, 2016




near the roadside
a weed covered fence
and old dead leaves
no warbling blackbird sings
smell the burning bond fires

the train passes
screeching iron on iron
the earth shakes
then silence fills the air
crashing waves of silence

old man and woman
passing in an autumn day
each lost in thought
memories of the days gone by
no thoughts for tomorrow

sidewalk cafe
drinking bitter espresso
here – a crying babe
there – shadows dance in the street
McCartney sings “Let it be”

© Gsk ‘16