Sunday Walk: September 15, 2013

country road

Ottavo Rima
(Sicilian octave)

Country Path

Walking down the lonely country path, dark and drear
Though the flowers hinted that summer was not gone
My heart was heavy for my lost true love, dear
Off to war he’d been sent and was now passed-on
The face that I saw in my mind’s eye so clear
No consolation gave to me thus withdrawn…
I heard blackbird singing, so late in the year
Knew I then, that there would be a future dawn.

A change on Bastet and Sekhmet’s Library…the Sunday Walk will be a literary walk…the photographic walk is over at Through the Eye of Bastet!

The Sicilian octave (Italian: ottava siciliana or ottava napoletana, lit. “Neapolitan octave”) is a verse form consisting of eight lines of eleven syllables each, called a hendecasyllable. The form is common in late medieval Italian poetry. The form has a prescribed rhyme scheme: (A-B-A-B-A-B-A-B) 

Free Verse: Red Tension

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Red tension rises…
each day we’re seeing
looming on the horizon…
precipitation of annihilation
as
power struggles continue
without cessation
the senseless mass murder
of people
like you and me,
for no better
reason, then someone’s ambition
someone’s ideal vision of what the world
should be…
that business as usual, usually means:
the poor get poorer
women are raped
children slaughtered
as they sleep.

the beat just goes on.

Then, someone wakes up
and says:  “we need peace!”
because maybe there’ll be another
oil crisis,
and the price of gas will rise, and we can’t
go get our fries
hell!
we might even have to cook…
meanwhile the crooks
who run this planet
will continue to wreak havoc
and the only thing we worry about
is how the home team made out.
we’ve got one more name
to add
to this sadistic game
of massacre
Syria…
another statistic, more double digits
of death…but be careful
oh, do be cautious
that it’s the right kind
of revolution
say the men in power
got to be sure that the profits
are safe!

the beat just goes on.

And croccadile tears flow in the papers
as they’d have us wallow in fears
of wars on our borders
you can hear the gears
as they turn
and the CNN burns
with programs mucking with the reasons
behind this new season
of hatred born in poverty
fomented in ignorance
and hypocritical
insistence
that the prophet
is the only answer
to the profits of war
but be careful
for you and your own prophets
in the east and the west
will bring more deaths
to your own doors.

the beat just goes on.

Monday Poetry Prompt #18: A Piece for Peace

At We Drink Because We’re Poets the Monday Poetry Prompt:

Prompt: Imagine you’re at a summit for world peace and the like.  You’re called to present reasons as to why the world should have a vested interest in caring for people who may not necessarily reside in their countries.  The way you will do this is through poetry.  What can you say in a poem that will convince the leaders of the world that action is necessary?  What do you believe it takes to help people into a better position in life?  Using a form of your choosing, frame what will essentially be an argument for true world peace.”

@)—>—>—

Free Verse

And What if Peace

Oh leaders in your privileged seats
looking upon a world the heeds your words,
think not for moment of your special places
live not the illusion that you’re above death.
If you with your decisions,
destroy our world my friends
not only will your enemies die
your life too will end.

Oh bankers and financiers who pull the strings,
look upon a world that heeds your words,
believe not that in your crystal palaces
you’ll be safe from what you’ve wrought
you with your decisions too will pay
for the destruction that has created
your wealth and other’s death
not only will your enemies die
your life too will end.

Revolutionaries , Religious leaders,
look upon a world that heeds your words,
believe not that from your pulpits on high
that you’ll be safe from your own lies
you with your provocations
will pay for the destruction you’ve created
the hosannas you sought bring death,
but not only your enemies die
your life too will end.

Oh people of the World
who only heed someone else’s words
hiding behind your televisions
believing you’ll be safe with every lie you’re fed
in your willful sleep of indolence
you’ll pay for following like sheep
just followers in passive destruction
you with your enemies will die
your life too will end.

And what if Peace
collaboration among Peoples
working hand in hand
for once returning to the land
understanding that the planet’s ONE,
no man can move without consequence
each action has its counter-move:
you with your enemy then might live
your life too, may be saved.

Huitain: Chad 1978

Huitain

From Poetry Forms:  huitain, French verse form consisting of an eight-line stanza with 8 or 10 syllables in each line. The form was written on three rhymes, one of which appeared four times. Typical rhyme schemes wereababbcbc and abbaacac. The huitain was popular in France in the 15th and early 16th centuries with such poets as François Villon and Clément Marot.
@)—>—>—
Huitain
Chad 1978
A long day, seemed that it would never end,
Laying with the children under our bed.
Thinking of those people already dead.
Telling stories: “Kids all’s well.” I pretend.
Listening intently my breath suspended,
When the rain of firey missles began.
Wishing  there existed a God to befriend.
The news:  A Revolution in Iran.
§§§§§
To Be Continued…

Sunday Painting the Town Red: 25 August 2013

I was thinking I wouldn’t get my Sunday in red done today, but then I saw this photo as I was listening to Peter Gabriel’s “Red Rain” et voilà.

The poem is not one of my happy poems though.  I imagine that if the Earth crys red rain it would reflect a deep and desparate passion.

Red Rain_4

Free Verse

Red Rain

Earth on fire
lost in her desire
to free herself
from pain,
the eternal nights
of fraternal fights,
her tears of despair
cannot cleanse herself
of the blood
that has been shed
in the name
of
God
Country
and
Honor.

This is the original photograph:

rain storm

rain storm

Ghazal: War

Today, thanks to TJ Therien, I was reminded of a form of poetry I very much enjoyed in my youth.  Most of you may know that the first ten years of my adult life I spent in different parts of Africa, and had the opportunity to meet some very interesting people, many were Africans of course but there were also many people who had come from the Middle East: Syria, Lebanon, Iran and Palestine, as well as some North Africans, specifically Egyptians.

It was basically through the Persians (Iranians nowadays) that I came to love and enjoy Rumi and Hafiz two Sufi poets.  Only today did I realize what poetry form they used!

Unfortunately, my first Ghazal poem, perhaps because of many of the memories that are linked to those days, is about war.  Many of my Muslim friends then and now, are immigrants, seeking peace because their countries are racked with war.  Here then is my first Ghazal:

 Ghazal

   War

Would walking down a darkened path lead us to a brighter day?
Or pounding breasts in anger and heat lead to a better way?

Will sharpening your butcher knife make you a better person?
Or drawing your bow-string lead you to love and a better way?

What is the logic behind the senseless vengeance, all the killing?
Bombing sleeping villagers who die unwilling…a better way?

Would the prophets glory in the carnage wrought in their name?
Or cover their heads in ashes praying for a better way?

What’s the sense speaking of love and harmony when we only hate?
Our words more important than reality:  is this the better way?

Questions haunt Bastet’s mind, accompanying her walk through life.
Watching men’s hatred and ideals showcased as a better way!

Free Verse: June 4th 2013

I sat upon a blanket
looking at the sky
it was the night of San Lorenzo
when the stars fall from the sky.

Rememberèd I my mother’s words
When I was very young
that I should wish upon a star
as it falls down upon the Earth.

I wish it was San Lorenzo now
I long to see the shooting stars
and wish that all the hurt there is
would soon leave my weary heart.

What is the problem my fellow-man?
Why must we always think
that an idea is so important,
that our pleasure needs fulfillment
at the cost of innocents?

Why must we push
forever forward
never thinking of the price
in order to gain our profit
or to fulfill our vice.

Why can’t we just be loving
why can’t we just be free
from the stupidest illusion
that I is better than we.

So today I heard some stories
today I heard a poem
today I read of news from China
and heavy is my heart.

Today I read a young man’s poem,
he wished his modest wishes
of love and work and happiness
and when once he was fulfilled,
discoverèd
that they were not the things he thought.

Today I heard of war
today I heard of murder
And heavy is my heart
And tears now fill from my eyes.

Oh my dear fellows
my friendsmy loves!

Is there nothing more than
falling stars
to make us see the light?
Have we not yet come to realize
that our life is but an illusion?
That in the face of the Universe
our opinion counts as nil?
That nothing is worth the death
of even one single person?
This is such a lovely world
with so many lovely things
why are we not yet worthy
to receive that love and return it
and our human destiny thus to fulfill.

Mu and Yu
work hand in hand
the material and the spirit
but if we cannot go one step beyond
our ephemeral ego
we die
without a shooting star
to save us from our folly.

 June 4th 2013.

Double Haiku for Eric Alagan: Humanity fell

Yesterday I read a thought provoking post by Eric Alagan, which stimulated me to write this double Haiku in comment.  The Post is entitled: Salvation- 55 word flash fiction.  Eric is one of the most stimulating writers I’ve met on WordPress and I always look forward to one of his posts.  You might want to take a look at this one, it’d be a great way to meet him…the comments are very interesting too!

Humanity fell
Like ashes from a chimey
Over the winter land
And still we lament
Ignoring our choices as
Many follow still.

Poem: Bastet Asks

We Drink Because We Are Poets Thurday Prompt # 5 has set and we have a new goal!

Prompt: What if you were a god for a day?  What would you do?  What would the world be like?  Would you be a good god or an evil god?  I’m thinking along the lines of the classical pantheons (like from Greece and Rome), but you can take this any way you’d like.  If you’d like to go the Bruce or Evan Almighty way, by all means, it’s your universe!

You can write your poem in any form that you choose!  If any of you would like to write an epic like the Illiad, that would be waaaaaay awesome!

People, it’s your party.  Have fun!  :)

Look in this mirror, how do you see yourself?

Look in this mirror, how do you see yourself?

Bastet Asks

I am great Bastet

the Goddess of cats

born from the rib

of Sekhmet the Goddess of War!

As I’d been forgotten

I thought

I’d

become human

for in this

wonderous age

the deities are you!

I’ve followed your

progress

over the ages

and seen how you’ve tamed

the Earth and the Air

I’ve seen your

great progress from

frightened young

babies

to warriors who could turn

this planet to dust!

I’ve watched as whole

species

have ceased to exist

I’ve watched as the forests you’ve changed into cities

I’ve watched as you’ve played

god

transforming my noble minions

into silly playthings

to be shown in fairs.

I’ve seen your

great growth

7 billion or so

and wonder where

the rest of us might go!

You fly into space

exploring the planets

you dive into the sea

at impossible depths!

You speak across

cyberspace

in less than an instant

creating ideas

no god ever could.

No burning bushes

for you

a keyboard you use

a modem

a webcam

and all is concluded!

So

answer my question

for deities you

are

what sort of world

have you created

are you good gods

or evil

or just unconscious of your great power?

Other participants:

http://5degreesofinspiration.wordpress.com/2013/06/01/thursday-poetry-prompt-5-deific-dissertation/comment-page-1/#comment-904

http://5degreesofinspiration.wordpress.com/2013/05/31/thursday-poetry-prompt-5-displaced-divinity/

Poetry Prompt: God for a Day | Legends of Windemere

God For A Day | Liars, Hypocrites & The Development of Human Emotion