Before He Emerges Forth into the Light

 

https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/544782

Before He Emerges Forth into the Light

He now resides in the shadow of the night.

Where sacred pear trees grow.

He is still asleep.

Let nothing disturb his blessed dream,

his journey through the Book of the Night.

It is a dark and dangerous book,

full of demons and monsters.

He knows the name of each one of them.

His knowledge is his only weapon.

He is the man of 200 spells

and his heart is pure.

To become the one who emerges forth into the light,

he will have his heart measured for sins.

The scale will not tip, for he is an honourable man.

Let no one disturb his blessed dream,

for he is the one who will bring back the Sun

and dispel the terrors of this long night.

GloPoWriMo 2021 Early Bird Prompt

Return to the New Normal

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Return to the New Normal

Let’s break this down, shall we?

According to Collins

“When you return to a place,

you go back there after you’ve been away.”

That I can understand.

I went shopping yesterday and

all the landmarks were still there.

The building across hadn’t budged

and the street still bore the same name.

But, according to Collings,

“If you are new to a situation or place, 

or if the situation or place is new to you, 

you have not previously seen it or had any experience of it.”

So, maybe this street was not my street after all.

Maybe it was somewhere I had never been before.

I have to admit that it looked normal to the naked eye,

since Collins claims that

“Something that is normal is usual and ordinary, and is what people expect.”

That seemed to apply.

While I walked to the shop, I saw nothing unusual

or extraordinary.

Birds still looked like birds

and the neighbour’s dog still had four legs and a tail.

So, now I am afraid to go out again.

if everything I know about the street where I spent my childhood is wrong,

if the dog, the birds and the landmarks had all conspired

to trick me,

then who knows what sort of danger lurks in the shadows

waiting for me to drop my guard.

GloPoWriMo Day 30 - something that returns

Leo the Turtle

Leo the Turtle

He knows the Earth is flat, but he's not telling.

He keeps his secrets to himself.

He is the descendant of Great A’Tuin.

He has inherited the title and the duties.

He carries the world on his back.

Therefore he must never stop swimming.

If he should ever lose his strength,

if he should slip,

he would bring about the end of the world.

Therefore he is always eating,

so that he may be strong and steady.

He never sleeps,

for he must keep constant vigilance.

Therefore he props himself on his hind legs,

to see whether something is approaching.

He rolls on his back often, to avoid collision with other worlds.

He eats asteroids for breakfast.

The sun shines only for him,

so that he can rest and warm his bones.

His life is hard,

though he never complains.

GloPoWriMo Day 29 - a paean to a pet

Inspired by Jubilate Agno by Christopher Smart and by the legends of Discworld.

Dedicated to my turtle Leonardo, who is all these things and more.

The Spinning Ballerina

Photo on Flickr by Tilemahos Efthimiadis

The Spinning Ballerina

My aunt lived in a museum. The room was always plunged in darkness and it was full of artifacts from her past lives. Plastic tulips bloomed in shoe-shaped pots, rosy-cheeked children hugged lambs and chased rabbits on the walls and there was a large collection of family photos under the heavy glass of the coffee table. The shelves were full of gold-leaved cups and porcelain shepherdesses with dreamy eyes. I was fascinated by the spinning ballerina, but my aunt would never give it to me, even though I usually got whatever I asked for. It was a gift from her first husband, she said. She showed me family albums, which had some pictures of me I had never seen. She was also a keeper of documents and an ardent collector of chocolate foils, Italian dolls and Christmas ornaments. She showed me the only remaining picture of Julka, my great-grandmother, who had been an evil woman, according to family lore. Julka had also been a great beauty, though you wouldn’t know that just by looking at that old photo. My aunt was a keeper of memories too. She remembered everything and forgave nothing. She was good with Tarot, and could knit a sweater in a single afternoon. Her own future was not easy to read. It had been mislaid somewhere, between the presents of her past lovers and the pictures of other people’s children. She had been cursed as a young girl, she said, sentenced to this life which couldn’t possibly be her real life. She had moved many times and had made few friends. Still, the curse found her every time.





GloPoWriMo Day 28 - a room from our past

The News

Image by PDPics from Pixabay

The News

Some people say it should be avoided at all costs,

just like sugar and nicotine.

I wouldn’t go that far.

I don’t believe in restrictive diets.

They do more harm than good.

You end up craving the very thing you have cut out

and you find yourself there in the middle of the night,

secretly binging on it.

Know, however 

that it is full of additives.

It will give you indigestion.

Wean yourself off gradually instead.

Crowd it out with healthy stuff.

Don’t be too hard on yourself if you have an occasional lapse.

You are human, after all.

GloPoWriMo Day 27 - a review 

The Postcard of My City

Image by stevanaksentijevic from Pixabay

The Postcard of My City

My city, after sunset.

I don’t see you, but I hear you.

Fight them with noise, the newspaper said.

My grandmother told me to stay away from politics.

My memory is vague, but I know

this has all happened before.

We export angry people,

though you wouldn’t know it

if you could hear this silence.

Neat rows of red windows, closed.

Two dogs and a bird.

Acacias in bloom.

A sunny day.

When I was a child

I thought I would be able to fly

one day.

I have always been afraid of the dark.

Once I found a wedding ring in the floorboards

in my hotel room.

I gave it to the receptionist.

I don’t know if it was returned.

We export angry people,

those who stay are the musical ones.

He proposed to her on a cruiser, our guide said.

She turned him down, of course.

so he threw her passport overboard.

I don’t know how she returned home.

Maybe she never did.

I hear there is a shortage of angry people

in some countries.

Conspiracy theorists say this is all a lie.

My school uniform is a pair of silk pijamas

and an elegant blouse.

Sometimes, in my dreams,

I am riding a winged horse.

I know this has all happened before,

I am not sure when.

Fight them with noise, the newspaper said.

My grandmother told me to stay away from politics.

Everything was different once upon a time.

And what a good time it was.

He said in his letters that he missed her,

but I am too old to believe in fairy tales now.






GloPoWriMo Day 26 - Almanac Questionnaire

River, at Springtime

Image by Peter H from Pixabay

River, at Springtime

I remember the day you came.

You built a bridge first, then a house on my banks.

My flow was interrupted where your dam now stands.

I don’t complain.

I am a well-behaved river these days.

Not that you would notice otherwise.

I haven’t seen much of you lately.

Spring came and you were not there to witness it.

I don’t miss you much, to be honest.

The sun still shines and lilacs are in bloom.

I wake up every morning and stretch my limbs in my narrow bed.

I wait for the change to come.

Do you remember what happened to your bridge last spring?

One day I will do the same thing to your dam.

Then I’ll take back what’s mine.

Just you wait.

GloPoWriMo Day 25 - Hoa Nguyen's prompt

For the record, I was following the exercise and free-writing for a while when my mother interrupted my free flow. This made its way into the poem and, in the editing stage, everything I had written before the distraction was removed.