Echo on Writing

 

Echo on Writing

say what you wish, but I

really hate 

goodbyes so I would rather leave 

a sentence 

unfinished or let a phrase

dwindle off

no full stop or 

comma but maybe 

just 

maybe 

a dash 

GloPoWriMo Day 30

Two Poems for Day 29

 

The albatross in question

The albatross in question is a silly bird.

It never sleeps.

I can hear it flapping its wings at night.

This constant flapping creates a draft.

It chills my bones, it sweeps through my mind

until all that’s left is a pair of wings

flapping.

This keeps me awake at night.

All because there is an albatross living inside me.

All because I feed it.

I can’t let it starve.

Can I?

Clandestine 

If I was a tarot card,

I would be the high priestess.

I would live my life 

between secret handshakes and clandestine libraries.

I would sit all day upon my throne.

I would eat pomegranate seeds,

receiving the ones who have travelled from afar

in order to gain some wisdom from me.

Then I would refuse to answer any questions,

raising my eyes, indicating that 

Heaven only knows.

Then I would proclaim that I was too tired,

that all these questions have left me exhausted.

Then I would lock my door, so that I could finally 

read the book that had been hiding

inside my sleeve.

That would be my dream job.

That would be a life worth living.

GloPoWriMo Day 29 

The Empress Tarot Card

 

The Empress Tarot Card

She sits on the throne, all by herself. Some say she's pregnant.

Pomegranate seeds adorn her face. What could she be thinking?

She sits on the throne, pretty and silent. She’s bored to death.

GloPoWriMo Day 28 - a sijo

Freedom

 

Freedom

The tut-tut-tut of the trumpet.

Can’t you hear me calling, it says.

I am lonely and so afraid, it says.

The lights are out, the supper is cold.

What shall I do without you, lamb?

Now the dogs bark. The horses neigh.

What shall we do without you, lamb?

Was it you running, barefoot, in your night-gown,

down that road, into those woods?

I will kill you when I find you, lamb.

This road is not on the maps.

These trees whose names you don’t know.

My lamb, my white lamb,

will I never find you again?

GloPoWriMo Day 27 - American sonnet

Inspired by this piece of music:

Silence

 

Silence

A muted splash, a whisper of the water,

A glimpse of a snake on the river’s sleeping surface.

Then, silence.

GloPoWriMo Day 26 

The Truth

 

The Truth

They say I keep reinventing myself.

But I can’t make myself younger, 

and I put on weight easily.

To tell you the truth, 

I am often afraid.

I despise bullies.

I admire no one. My heroes are dead.

Except those two good men from the books. They will live forever.

Some men are rocks like that. They don’t even brag about it.

My happiest childhood memory is of being lost in the woods. 

On the other hand,

some women have managed to rule the world. Some of them even had nice names.

The ones in which men called them good, or sweet. 

Where they praised their softness or their hair. 

Their inner strength, like a river flowing inwards.

My heroes are ordinary people, surviving their day.

When I go, I’d like to have survived my day first.

I regret having smiled through my teeth,

saying it was fine.

No problem at all.

I was in love with a peppermint bush once.

It grew, independent of me.

And it smelled so good.

I have also loved sunshine, and summer.

When I come back, I would like to come as a peppermint bush.

Or a blueberry bush, I haven’t decided.

I have suffered from decision fatigue like that

all my life.

I am often sad, over nothing, like just now.

I love ice cream.

My guilty pleasure is dancing.

GloPoWriMo Day 25

So that I don’t write about the blue rabbit

 

So that I don’t write about the blue rabbit

I

"So I strike a pose."

So I begin.

So I go and sharpen my pencils.

So I play some soft jazz.

So I see him in my mind’s eye.

So I refocus.

So I strike a new pose.

So I go and do something else.

II

You were not there when I tried to describe him.

You were not there when I failed.

III

I do this for your own good, you know.

Why should you reach for something you can’t have?

Now go back to sleep.

IV

I hope that he is safe out there.

Somewhere where you and I can’t find him.

Inspired by Dušan Radović's Plavi zec (Blue Rabbit). The first line ("So I strike a pose") is taken from Gavrilo Stanojević's translation.

NaPoWriMo Day 24