ABC Poems

ABC Poems

ABC poems are more like word games rather  than poetry … the trick is to be able to write them in a poetic fashion instead of just 26 sentences with each letter of the alphabet.

Remembering The Lost Poets – January 13, 2014

Always thinking about them.
Beautiful poets that they were.
Curiously, I keep going back, yet
Daring my mind to move forward.
Eventide will soon be here.
Future verse will never be written,
Glorious tales will go untold … alas,
How lonely the world is now without them.
I didn’t know how much they meant to me.
Just reading their words was pure delight.
Knowing that they read mine, inspired me too!
Longingly I think of them,
Memories though fond, are just not enough,
Numb I sit sometimes for hours…
Onward, I know I must go,
Proud or humble it doesn’t matter.
Quietly I bow my head and say to you:
Remember the beloved ones the others now gone…
Save them in your happiest memories…
Thank fate for the time we had, though brief,
Unwillingly we’ve lost their inspired gifts.
Veiled our minds will lose verses yet to be sung,
Write then with renewed originality, no clones,
Xeroxed copies or sad imitations of classics
Your verses will be alive here inside us,
Zen harmonized we will create new poems for you.

Note: A edit of the same poem written – November 12, 2013

§
Xanadu Was Lost – September 24, 2014

After the sun’s fully risen
Breakfast and hubby
Call me to the kitchen …
Day has begun, so
Energically I lay out
Fruit
(Grapes are in season)
Honey with toast … and coffee with milk.
I eat slightly lost, still in my mind
Just a while longer
Kenning a rhyme but not
Losing time,
Munching my toast.
No now I can’t write
Odes or ballads that
Pop into my head,
Quickened by a poem I’d earlier
Read …
Suddenly a rhyme …
Tempting and impelling, so
Under the guise of human necessity …
Verses I save remembering Kublai Khan.
While I’m no Coleridge, still, I know,
Xanadu was lost through a person from Porlock, so,
Zippily I copy it before it is gone.

© G.s.k. ‘14

§

Ex-lovers – 30 October, 2013

Alas,
Because she was not seductive,
Catty, yet with the qualities of a
Dog, I can’t see what he saw in her.
Ergo, I sit here wondering…
First of course she did him wrong!
Glory be, isn’t it always like that?
He ranted and raved for a few years…
I can assure you it was a bore.
Just when everything began to normalize,
Know what he did? He called!
Let’s just say it didn’t go well,
Maybe because he expected her to be,
Nostalgically remembering him.
Ooops…that’s not how she felt,
Pretty much she told him she was glad they broke-up …
Quite delighted, feeling better without him.
Reason would have it, he’d just move on …
She was now married and had two sons,
The fact of the matter it’s the same with him.
Unfortunately,
Very imprudently,
Without thinking things out, he called her:
Xanthippe which pissed her off!
Yes, she yelled a lot and
Zounds! Did the fireworks fly!

§

Zardoz – 27 October, 2013

Anxiously he argued,
Bucolically, insisting that his point of view,
Certainly was true!
Dogmatic in character,
Empirical yet prejudicial,
Founded on his personal point of view,
Grounded only in his own
Histrionic interpretation of history.
Insistently, he related that his
Judgment was infallible…
Knowledge presented only showed that he Lived in fantasy!
Logically we could follow his
Masterly presentation,
Nervous though he was.
Obviously, his was,
Paranoid view of existence!
Qualifying it thus was
Relatively reasonable after
Seeing him jump onto the table shouting,
Thoroughly out of it, that the
Universe’s leaders but above all the Presidents of the U.S.A. are,
Various entities from parallel
Worlds, supposedly descendents of lizard
Xenotypes attracted to Earth’s
Youth, with who’ve founded a world called:
Zardoz!

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Samara Ennui – Haibun – November 6, 2018

 

I’m writing, doing what I’ve always dreamt of doing, I’m enthusiastic, I feel revitalized.  People are reading my work, liking it and giving me great suggestions that help me better my work, I feel part of a community … and then I don’t.

Sure, I’d had some bad moments recently in my life, but I kept up my writing and my photography kept on going but at a certain point, for no apparent reason, I found I hadn’t turned on my computer for months.  What happened?  Why did I stop?

I’ve always been a pretty creative sort of person, although not a creative genius.  Since I can remember I’ve always passed hours enjoying my painting, drawing and writing.  I easily pick up skills, I’m a quick study as they say, so I had no problems learning how to sew, crochet, sculpt, cook or whatever else came my way including learning anatomy and acupuncture meridians and points.  But, and there’s a big but, since puberty, I periodically go into more or less long periods of ennui.

I slip into a sort of limbo, where nothing seems very important to me at all.  I pass hours (days at a time) reading or watching TV series.  I do get out of bed because I abhor an unmade bed. I eat whatever is at hand (usually nothing particularly healthy) just as long as it’s quick and fills me up.  I don’t live in chaos, my house though not spotlessly clean is fairly orderly, I make sure of that because I hate being in a messy dirty place.  I drift through life, doing the minimum necessary to get through the day. Fortunately, as I’ve grown older, self-preservation has guaranteed that I keep a life-line open to the outside world.  I do have a couple of friends with whom I never lose contact with completely.

Then one day, something changes … I take a look at myself and my life and a tiny spark glitters.  It may take weeks or months but I become constantly more dissatisfied with drifting.  I realize that I’ve become overweight, that I haven’t done much of anything interesting for a long time, that I’m bored with my books and the TV.  I start looking into diets and exercise (just looking). I get the urge to write or sew myself a new outfit or paint a picture (just the urge).  I become frustrated and panicky. Then the looking around becomes watching what I eat and going for walks, joining a dance class and bicycling.  The urge becomes turning on the computer, looking through models for a new outfit, and choosing a great piece of material.  Usually at this point  my life has started to move again.

I don’t really know why this happens to me.  I’ve gone through analysis, I’ve meditated, I’ve had great mentors throughout my life who’ve stimulated me giving my life a sense of meaning … for a while anyway.  But eventually, there it is, the chasm of ennui into which I slip (not fall) and the cycle begins again. The drifting isn’t painful and I don’t even feel bored.  It’s when I move on, when I become aware that maybe there can be more to my life than books and TV,  the awakening, which is the painful part, fraught with anxiety and impatience to move on.

Have you or anyone you’ve known gone through this sort of thing?  I’d like to read about it, so please leave comments below and let me know.

winter snowflakes
passion gives way to
spring dawn
a never-ending cycle
my Samsara ennui

 

 

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