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
imagining
a new way
without hurting, pain and you
just floating along

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

everything
seems to change but me
loneliness
craziness
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.

 

 

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.

Redemption:
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
harvested
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

A Fall (Shadorma) – September 10, 2016

Today on Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie – “B&P Shadorma & Beyond” offered to us by Candy – we read a delightful poem by Lisel Mueller who born in Nazi Germany was forced to  immigrate to the Mid West, United States with her family in 1942 when she was 15.  In 1997 she won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry.

Here a one of Lisel’s wonderful poems:

Things

What happened is, we grew lonely
living among the things,
so we gave the clock as face,
the chair a back,
the table four stout legs
which will never suffer fatigue.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language

and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long slender neck.

Even what was beyond us
was recast in our image,
we gave the country a heart,
the storm an eye.
the cave a mouth
so we could pass into safety.

© Lisel Mueller

our Candy wrote a Shadorma inspired by this poem and asks us to do the same:

you are my
stella lucida
shining when
darkness comes
illuminating corners
where nightmares can hide

© cgk 2016

Image result for free fall

(Here is my attempt …)

A Fall 

just falling
off my path’s shoulder
I tumbled
into a funk
then this topsy turvy world
seemed reality

like Alice
all logical thought
suspended
I wondered
when my fall would ever end
and still I tumbled

(free falling
vanquishes breaking
not crashing
– gravity
guarantees a brusque return
to reality)

stark naked –
reality’s blush
seemed modest
to the fool
at the heart of fashion news –
copy cats just purr

© Gsk ‘16

Change – Choka – July 19, 2016

frosted lake

another passing
another moment of change
another heart-break
more tears to water my cheeks
and each moment feels
like my heart can stand no more
yet the road goes on
and the wheels keep turning ’round
another passing
another moment of change
but life continues
each morning the sun rises
the cocks crow loudly
the rain still falls – winds still blow
telling me all’s well
I miss you, my once good friend
there’s no passing here
you only gave in and up
I cry for the dead
they are forever gone now
they have no choice left
their fight is over
it’s for you that I despair
for you my heart breaks
this other kind of passing
this other moment of change

© Gsk ’16

B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond – July 16, 2016 – Write a Choka or Shadorma about “Change”

Desert Rose – Shadorma and Tilus – May 1, 2016

the desert
as the wind whispers
the sun burns
life hides deep
under the stony shadows
of a desert rose

© G.s.k. ‘16

in his blue veil he rode –
the desert
rose
😉

© G.s.k. ‘16

B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond – April 30, 2016 – I used the video from Paloma’s lovely prompt – but wasn’t really feeling too horsey today … so I wrote about the Sahara … where the desert rose – a rock formation – can be found … in the shadow perhaps we’d find a small insect – like a scorpion 😉

 

Carpe Diem Special #208 Sara McNulty’s 4th “fantasy” shadorma – here is our last celebratory post in honour of Sara McNulty  who won the Carpe Diem Kukai dedicated to time.

shadorma — a non-rhyming six-line poem in 3/5/3/3/7/5 — or a tilus. A tilus is a non-rhyming, 3-line poem with a syllable count of 6-3-1.

A to Z Challenge – The Letter E – April 6, 2016

Even as the evening waned
elfish shadows elongated
elegant, evidently ephemera,
they evaporated ensnared
in exquisite ethereal branches
as they explored ethics and
expounded with erudite eloquent enunciations
their elocutions
expunging evil ensnaring interpretations
of a scatological elite
enabling enduring peace
even among mankind’s
eccentric entertaining evangelion*
proponents of every persuasion.

evening elves
elevating lives
exploring
peace ethics
expound with erudition
exquisite reason

© G.s.k. ’16

*The word evangelical has its etymological roots in the Greek word for “gospel” or “good news”: ε’υαγγέλιον (evangelion), from eu- “good” and angelion “message”.  Here I’m not interested in its evolution through the middle ages in regards to Christianity; whether Protestantism or the reformation of the Catholic Church.   I’m referring to all those who repute themselves to be the harbingers and messengers of “good tidings” and are usually the proponents of disaster … in a religious or other sense – Christian or otherwise.   So I left the word in it’s Latinized Greek form.

B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond

Black and White – Haibun – March 12, 2016

 

Truth they say is black and white, Marco thought as he walked along the street, intrigued by the odd afternoon light caused by a pause in the storm. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the wind picked-up shaking a plastic bin bag drawing his attention to it. Someone had discarded an umbrella or maybe something else, he wasn’t sure. How odd; the light refraction caused by the weird preamble to the storm made everything a little mysterious. The world seemed black and white yet things were anything but clear. Hard to see any truth here.

bold contrasts
enlightening
his inner truths

© G.s.k. ‘16

(100 words)

Friday Fictioneers

B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond 

Alone with Marigold – Kyrielle Sonnet – March 11, 2016

me_and_my_best_friend_by_latoday-d36319d

latoday.deviantart.com

Reflected in the wilderness
Hunger, thirst and then deep darkness
She walked alone with Marigold
Along her path both fine and bold.

To take give counsel she went north –
To her enemy she went forth –
Unto the city as foretold
Along her path both fine and bold.

She never fainted nor gave praise
But freedom’s banner she did raise
Her name was never known I’m told
Along her path both fine and bold.

Reflected in the wilderness
Along her path both fine and bold.

© G.s.k. ‘16

 

From Sunday Whirligig 49, The week’s words came from Psalm 107:1-13: wilderness, hungry, thirsty, works, darkness, counsel, thanks, enemy, north, city, fainted, praise

Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge and B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond – Kyrielle Sonnet

My Kyrielle Sonnet isn’t based upon anyone from the “real” world.  I just imagined how the once tiny girl in the photograph, from her childhood adventures with her cat might have grown into a bold decisive woman.

Ode to A Mask – Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – March 4, 2016

Ode to a Mask

Hidden in a plaster mask
For all the world to see,
Covered in bright feathers
A cockatoo waddles past.

Fancy dress at carnival,
Walking down the grand canal and
Yet another peacock cries
Dressed in orange and fur.

“What know you of her past?”
I asked my tourist guide ..
“A princess or a pauper?
“Who knows!” his shrugged reply.

For now we’re in September
Long past is Mardi Gras
No longer is it fun
To see her masked facade.

Hidden in a plaster mask
Dressed in feathers and silk
Once she was a beauty queen,
Now she’s just a ghost.

© G.s.k. ‘16

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Photo Challenge and B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond (ODE)