Poem: Farewell

I take my book to the riverbank 
the pages flutter amidst the waves 
the blank sheets you could have inked 
origami birds that fly away 

I pass by a radiant garden 
blossom renaissance on display 
Lele flowers, we always called them 
seasons pass, they wilt away 
 
I rub your charcoal portrait 
my hands blacken at the touch 
coarse ashes between my fingers 
becoming one with the forest's dust

Poem: Anxiety

In a hole
deep
strident

The echos of indecision
bounce along the crumbling walls

Proven path
irresolute
drowning

Water fills my trench
disguised as progress

I try to float

Stones
they fall
gathering on my chest

Impact endured, weight multiplied

Submerging
I grasp onto the walls
light above me
begin my climb

Crumbling
falling

I am back under water
in the silence and artificial peace
the flood will raise the patient
the floating, the weightless

Poem – Burnout

Time with lost linearity
rushing moments, self on pause

Dreams of tangled code
resulting sheets, and messy notes

Frustration, lost control
tightened chest, motivation thrown

Exhaustion far beyond
a single day, a busy flow

Waves of mass amnesia
forgotten talks, context gone

Unable to detach
Unable to contain

Just one more push
just one more feature
just one more…
just one…
just…

Song – Opportunity

I have been wanting to make some music for my poems for a while. I finally sat down and tried my hand at some post rock on my iPad. You can give it a listen here: https://soundcloud.com/positronic2011/opportunity

Disclaimers:

• This is the first piece of music that I have ever attempted to make
• When I was a kid my music teacher told my mom that I had no ear for music whatsoever
• Doesn’t matter, I had fun 😀

Poem – Dassie whisperer

Surrounded by our book fortress
I hear your footsteps by the door
a familiar welcomed rhythm
a music worthy to explore

You smile at me in the corridor
the kind or smile reserved for me
embracing me with a single glance
showing me what we could be

That young dassie whisperer
is still lurking within your eyes
my adventurer, my artist
with time a bit more wise

Let us sit together by the books
entangled in each other’s tales
recalling golden moments
exhilarated by future trails

Writing workshop day 1

Today I decided to go to a weekend writing workshop for the first time. It was my birthday present to myself. We did a variety of exercises and most of the stuff that I wrote will just be thrown away (or rather not published). However, I decided to choose a couple of things to put up as this blog is about my creative journey, and this is part of that journey.

Disclaimer: these are exercises and haven’t exactly been edited 😀 

Poem

We were asked to write something, anything, for 10 minutes based on 1 line of an existing poem . The poem was Mercy by Melissa Broder, and I selected the last line of her poem, namely “Maybe your hum could just fall from my lips”. What came out was another poem, here it goes:

Maybe your hum could just fall from my lips
as we sing a common song together
dancing under the rain drops
that carve our faces

We search for our lost inspiration
under a set of burdened trees
remembering the sunlight
that warmed our imagination

Follow me into a new adventure
down a dusty forgotten road
plant the seed of new intentions
watch our future grow

Stop for a moment in this coloured journey
and absorb the missing draught
the flowering of your mind’s creations
and the stillness of time

Bring your face close to mine
And let us merge our existence
Become more than just a thought
ink your path, close the distance

Character building

There were a bunch of other activities in between but I am too horrified to put the results here, so we will jump to some character building exercises. We were asked to describe in 2-3 sentences some people that we know (with names or pseudonyms) and some imaginary people. I’ll pick two of the pseudonym-ed ones for here:

• Daniel is a squirrel nest builder. He always says that he won’t get political. Then he finds a glass of wine and that promise goes out of the window.
• Saphire is a pixie, but one of those more grungy Doc wearing ones. She keeps forgetting to throw away those stupid stockings that keep falling down at the most rushed and inappropriate times.

Dialogue

There are reasons that I mostly write poems and prose, and one of those is that I find any dialogue that I write in a short story appalling and unnatural, therefore this exercise was rather scary, but very much needed. The exercise was to assume that two characters are having a phone call, character A wants to move into 1 apartment together with character B, whereas character B does not want to, but also does not want to hurt A’s feelings. We focused on just the dialogue (10 minutes), so there is no filling (x said, b did xyz and that kind of thing).

“So, remember that place that we saw yesterday? The one with -“
“The one that had that round staircase?”
“Yeah that one”
“Mhm”
“Well, they called back to say that it is now available”
“I thought that some couple was taking it”
“Yeah, their background check didn’t go well”
“Oh? How come?”
“It’s not important, and I don’t know anyway. Either way, I wanted to chat about it now so that I can get back to the rental agency. How -“
“Hmmmm, I didn’t really like the place”
“Why?”
“Well, it had a bit too much … well …”
“Too much what?”
“Well, not sure how to describe it”
“Sounds like you don’t really know what it is you didn’t like”
“How do I put it … My issue was the amount of shared space”
“You want a smaller lounge?”
“Well, what I need is more ‘me’ space you know?”
“Not quite sure I understand”
“So, I have buffers, you know? Like ‘mana’ in a game”
“Huh?”
“How much life/magic you have in a game, that sort of thing”
“Err, ok?”
“So I have something like a social mana”
“Get to the point, I don’t get these analogies”
“Well you see… ufff. I am planning to learn the trumpet”
“What?”
“The trumpet, you know? The ‘tu tu ru ruuu’ instrument, that kind of thing”
“I know what a trumpet is, why are you telling me this?”
“Practice, practice, practice! That’s what they say, right?”
“And? Why are we talking about a trumpet?”
“It’s going to be noisy, very noisy, for a few hours every day. I thought that I should warn you, you see, before you make that commitment. ‘Tu tu ru ruuuu'”.

 

If you are interested in doing a workshop yourself (they are really good, don’t judge by my results :P), check out: https://www.thereaderberlin.com/ 

Poem – Dancing rose

Wanderers seen from afar
bound only by communal roots
faces neglected by time
the sound of shuffling boots.

Erased as being unfitting
under the pretense of integration
blamed for a failing system
whilst enveloped in alienation.

Forsaken as a birth right
voice for no objection
why join a society
guaranteeing of ones rejection?

Poem – Jellyfish

My friend and I scuba dived in the Red Sea when we went to Israel. The most memorable part of this dive for me was looking up from the bottom and seeing the surface covered in beautiful purple jellyfish, penetrated by a few rays of sunlight. I have wondered how to describe or paint that beauty for quite a while, so I have decided to attempt a poem.

 

Stars of an underwater kingdom
watching us dance to the current below
a purple haze separating dimensions
our origins from long ago

The trespassing light of our mutual star
radiates lavender upon our home
our breath disrupts your silence
familiar aliens under your dome

 

 

Poem – The moors

Small silver speckles
emerging from a green sea
like landscape freckles
setting themselves free

Caressed by blades of grass
in a rhythmic wind waltz
time forgets to pass
as the moorland calls

It sings a silent song
untroubled by the rain
asking to belong
to a world without pain

Poem: I read a research paper today

This one goes to Masters club, the group that held each of us together during our masters dissertations, mainly with wine.

 

I read a research paper today
lost in mathematical clutter
“clearly”s here “evidently”s there
an academic equivalent of a mutter

I remember my academic years
excited to solve now, not later
It didn’t take long to realise
I’ve just become another paper

I stop to wonder about you authors
what were your hopes and dreams?
what did you want to leave behind?
before swallowed by journal streams

Refresh for that one citation
the new measure of your worth
then you’re reduced to an “et al”
is it even worthwhile to go forth?

I wonder if you were as shattered
when you realised you’d have no impact
yet here I am, out of research
and the world still feels intact