REQUIEM

“A requiem is meant to bring comfort.” - Mack Wilberg

The New What’s Going On blog is prompting about “Rest”. I’m sorry but my rest is rather restless, or rather, a rest that comes after great turmoil. A Requiem (Latin: rest) or Requiem Mass, also known as Mass for the dead (Latin: Missa pro defunctis) or Mass of the dead (Latin: Missa defunctorum), is a Mass of the Catholic Church offered for the repose of the souls of the deceased, using a particular form of the Roman Missal. This was the inspiration of my “Rest” poem.

Requiem

Requiem,
Requiem Aeternam…
Burying all traces of desire
Deep inside my withered body
I  cling to words;
And words my only comfort.
Interring deep in dark, dank soil
My heart’s small broken pieces
Images of my fantasies save me
From the grasping claws of madness.

Requiem Aeternam!

As earth envelops slowly all my hopes,
Requiem 
As the sun vanishes once again,
Requiem 
As the darkness claims me for her own.

Enshrouding dead dreams

In palls woven of crescent moonbeams
I clutch only a cold memory
Of an embrace long ago.
Inhuming my follies,
Your smile, your eyes, your body,
And only reason, mute written words,
And only silent words to save me.

Requiem Aeternam,
As dark night falls
Enclosing softly all my longings,
Requiem
As the illusion dies once again,
Requiem 
As the tears flow,
Only to freeze 
On my death-cold flesh.

Requiem Aeternam,

Requiem…
Eternal rest I crave!
My flesh to save,
As I dig my grave…
Requiem,
Requiem,
Requiem Aeternam...

Here’s the poem set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please be aware that there may be a slight delay with the uploading of music on some of the above music sites. YouTube is usually the most rapid to upload.

ONCE MORE...

“The head learns new things, but the heart forever practices old experiences.” - Henry Ward Beecher

The prompt from “Poets and Storytellers United” this week is to write something inspired by the quote: “Don’t be afraid to start over. This time you’re not starting from scratch, you’re starting from experience.” Here is my poem:

Once More…

Once more alone,
A silent phone.
All on my own…

After you left, there was an empty space,
With ghostly images wearing your face;
My heart a burnt out field, a vacant lot
Survival in a polar waste my only thought.

I closed myself up, built a protective wall
Excluded joys, songs, happinesses all.
Now by myself, how time drags and stops
And life expires, turns into a rotting corpse.

I’m all alone, beside a silent phone,
Nobody rings, nobody talks nor sings.
My house a tomb, each room in gloom,
My heart of ice, paying the price.

And then she came, and a sun ray shone,
Her voice so sweet with measured tone.
Whispered my name and made me hope
That maybe I could go on, live and cope…

Once more, my heart began to quickly beat
Once more, each morning I could dare to greet;
How such a fleeting glance renews desires,
How such a single word can light such fires?

I’m happy dating, by the phone waiting,
I know she’ll call, I’ll risk another fall;
For love again, a poisoned cup I’ll drain,
And roll the dice, and pay whatever price…

Walking a tightrope,
Once more I hope
That I will cope…

Here’s the poem set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 505 - HAWAII, USA

“For me, the magic of Hawaii comes from the stillness, the sea, the stars.” - Joanne Harris

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.
There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.
Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Hawaii is an island state of the United States, in the Pacific Ocean about 3,200 km southwest of the U.S. mainland. One of the two non-contiguous U.S. states (along with Alaska), it is the only state not on the North American mainland, the only state that is an archipelago, and the only state in the tropics. Hawaii consists of 137 volcanic islands that comprise almost the entire Hawaiian archipelago (the exception, which is outside the state, is Midway Atoll).

Spanning 2,400 km, the state is physiographically and ethnologically part of the Polynesian subregion of Oceania. Hawaii's ocean coastline is consequently the fourth-longest in the U.S., at about 1,210 km. The eight main islands, from northwest to southeast, are Niʻihau, Kauaʻi, Oʻahu, Molokaʻi, Lānaʻi, Kahoʻolawe, Maui, and Hawaiʻi, after which the state is named; the last is often called the "Big Island" or "Hawaii Island" to avoid confusion with the state or archipelago. The uninhabited Northwestern Hawaiian Islands make up most of the Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument, the largest protected area in the U.S. and the fourth-largest in the world.

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DEATH IN AUTUMN

“My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.” - Robert Frost

The prompt from “Poets and Storytellers United” this week is t write a poem in a formal, traditional form. I have chosen the villanelle. (A villanelle is a 19-line poetic form with a specific structure of five tercets (three-line stanzas) and a concluding quatrain (four-line stanza). It features a strict rhyme scheme (ABA, ABA, ABA, ABA, ABA, ABAA) and two repeating lines, called refrains, that alternate as the last lines of the tercets and appear together as the last two lines of the quatrain.) It can be quite tricky to write...

Autumn Evening

As evening falls so softly, cold
Memory’s scent I follow,
And life grows dark and old.

Leaves die, as they turn to gold
The sound of voices hollow.
As evening falls so softly, cold

I try to break its stranglehold;
My spirits fall and ebb, so low – 
And life grows dark and old.

I try to be so resolute and bold
To make my song again to flow
As evening falls so softly, cold…

The wood attacked, consumed by mould
Decay eats into it so slow,
And life grows dark and old.

My dreams to highest bidder sold
Love’s ghosts in sadness wallow:
As evening falls so softly, cold
And life grows dark and old.

Here’s the poem set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

THE SCENT BOTTLE

"Fragrances are powerful magicians that can transport you through the years you have lived" Helen Keller

The What’s Going On blog is exploring the theme of “Fragrance” in poems today. So I highlight the sensory experience of fragrance in the lines of my poem. 

The Scent Bottle

Your perfume lost…

A mislaid, forgotten bottle of your scent
I found today and opened to inhale;
A flood of memory spun a rich tale,
With costly perfumes from Tashkent
Souvenirs of whispers hidden by a veil.

Your pale demeanour, golden hair
Enveloped in a cloud of fragrance,
Enhancing so your silky elegance;
Reminded now by the scent so rare,
Again our parting making me despair.

The citrus, civet and the earthy musk
Are mixed with the delights of rose
That delicately caress the nose.
The summery afternoon, the violet dusk
What marvels for a scent bottle to enclose!

My wandering fingers on your skin
I recollect, absorbing with each touch
An aromatic kiss – in love so much!
Heady ambergris like sounds of violin,
Fading recall, as snowflake, I try to clutch.

A bottle of scent, and your memory I seek,
In billows of vetiver, nard and myrrh.
My loss, a perfume smelt, will now aver
Times past, of happiness gone to speak,
As echoes of long-lost love I stir.
Your perfume I recall…

Here’s the poem set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 504 - SOCOTRA ISLAND, YEMEN

“There can be no dragon slayer in the absence of dragons.” - Thomas Chatterton Williams

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.
There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.
Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Socotra, locally known as Saqatri, is a Yemeni island in the Indian Ocean. Situated between the Guardafui Channel and the Arabian Sea, it lies near major shipping routes. Socotra is the largest of the six islands in the Socotra archipelago as it comprises around 95% of the landmass of the archipelago. It lies 380 kilometres south of the Arabian Peninsula and 232 km east of the Horn of Africa. The inhabitants of the island are called Socotrans, and they speak Arabic and Soqotri.

The island measures 132 km in length and 42 km across at its widest. In 2008, Socotra was recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The island is under the control of the Southern Transitional Council (STC), a United Arab Emirates-backed, pro-Presidential Leadership Council (PLC), "secessionist" faction in Yemen's ongoing civil war. The STC seized control of the island following a coup in 2020, ousting the local authorities and establishing its own governance.

Socotra is home to a high number of unique species that are endemic to it. Up to a third of its plant life is unique. Due to the island's unusual geography, it has been described as "the most alien-looking place on Earth”. One example is the Dragon’s Blood Tree, or Draceana cinnabari, which may be the most well known example of Socotran endemism. The tree contains a bright red sap which is used commercially.

D. cinnabari has a very distinct appearance: Its trunk branches out into an umbrella-like crown with tightly packed leaves and widespread branches. This plant structure is observed in arid climates which have atmospheric moisture. Tightly packed leaves and wide spread branches facilitate the condensation of water from moisture in the air, and the shade provided by the umbrella crown may prevent evaporation of moisture from the soil. One dragon’s blood forest remains on the island. The average age of these trees is approximately 300 years. This suggests that the forest is over-mature, and indicates a decline in new growth.

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ON THE BANKS OF THE MURRAY

“At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.” - Plato 

This week, Poets and Storytellers United has as its theme “A Perfect Afternoon”. I am taking poetic licence here and saying that my perfect afternoon needs to extend into a perfect evening, and an even more perfect night. So humour me, please!

On the Banks of the Murray

Ohhhhh!
Such beauty,
All quiet,
On a still summer night…

On the banks of the Murray,
On a summer’s hot night.
There’s no need to hurry,
All the stars shine so bright.

On the banks of the river,
With you on my side,
And the moon solid silver,
All our secrets confide.

“I love you so”, I say
“I love you more”, you reply.
We look at the sky and we sigh,
And kind fate we obey.
Our lips no kiss will deny,
As our hearts upward fly.

On the banks of the Murray,
As the heavens rotate,
And the small hours scurry,
A gold morn’ we await.

On the banks of the river,
In a tender embrace,
We both warily shiver,
Lest the gods deny us grace.

“I love you so”, I say
“I love you more”, you reply.
We look at the sky and we sigh,
And kind fate we obey.

Ohhhh!
“I love you so”, I say
“I love you more”, you reply…

Here’s the poem set to music and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

PS: Some of you have said that the song does not appear at the link site. Type: "Otidorchestre" and do a search. Sometimes there is a slight delay from my posting it to its publication at the music sharing sites. Generally YouTube is the most efficient.

A PRAYER FOR PEACE

“There was never a good war or a bad peace.” - Benjamin Franklin

The New What’s Going On blog is prompting about “Yearning for Peace” this week. With all the wars and hostilities currently raging around the world it feels like we’re on the verge of the outbreak of WWIII. It seems that humanity is blind to the mistakes of the past and is ready to repeat them. If only we all were more active in seeking the peace we long for…

Peace

All round the world the long wars rage

As petty despots their egos inflate;

In bloody battles nations engage

Their hunger for gold they can't sate.

Insane dictators vie for power

Poor soldiers die by the score,

The warfare grows, enemies glower

A situation sane people all abhor…

The prayers for peace and calm won’t stop

A war that crazy men have started.

God will not render benefaction,

Unless people will take action:

Refuse to fight, and don’t be blinded

By lies, false promises of aspirants,

Perverted dreams of raving tyrants.

The helpless cries of all the blameless:

Children, old people, women, nameless,

Cannot be heard as prayers for peace,

Nor can their misery decrease.

Dethrone the cruel kings of crime,

Cast out heartless oppressors.

The clocks strike now the time

To rid ourselves of the aggressors.

The prayers for peace and calm won’t stop

A war that crazy men have started.

God will not render benefaction,

Unless the people will take action:

Refuse to fight, and don’t be blinded

By lies, false promises of aspirants,

Perverted dreams of raving tyrants.

Here’s the poem set to music and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 503 - MT AGUNG, BALI, INDONESIA

“If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?” -  Khalil Gibran

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Mount Agung (Balinese: ᬕᬸᬦᬸᬂ​ᬅᬕᬸᬂ, romanized: gunung āgung, Indonesian: Gunung Agung) is an active volcano in Karangasem Regency, Bali, Indonesia. It is located southeast of Mount Batur volcano, also in Bali. It is the highest point on Bali, and dominates the surrounding area, influencing the climate, especially rainfall patterns. From a distance, the mountain appears to be perfectly conical. From the peak of the mountain, it is possible to see the peak of Mount Rinjani on the nearby island of Lombok, to the east, although both mountains are frequently covered in clouds. Agung is a stratovolcano, with a large and deep crater. Its most recent eruptions occurred from 2017–2019.

Balinese people believe that Mt Agung is a replica of Mt Meru, the central axis of the universe. The most important temple on Bali, Pura Besakih, is high on the slopes of Gunung Agung. Pura Besakih is a complex made up of 23 temples that sit on parallel ridges. It has stepped terraces and flights of stairs that ascend to several courtyards and brick gateways that lead up to the main spire or Meru structure, which is called Pura Penataran Agung. All this is aligned along a single axis and designed to lead the spiritual person upward and closer to the mountain which is considered sacred.

Each year, there are at least 70 festivals held at the complex since almost every shrine celebrates a yearly anniversary. This cycle is based on the 210-day Balinese Pawukon calendar year.

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LOVE'S ANGER

“He who angers you conquers you.” - Elizabeth Kenny 

This week, Poets and Storytellers United has as its theme “Anger as a (Healthy) Fuel. Generally anger is seen as a negative feeling (after all it is one of the deadly sins!). However, anger in small doses can be beneficial or at least act as stimulus for generation of positive feelings… Here is my take on it:

Love’s Anger

Jealousy is the lover’s greatest fault and loath,
And rightly, anger in the beloved will engender.
Frigid indifference is quite the opposite of both
For in each lover’s heart, an icy apathy will tender.

A little anger is the spice of love
For lovers’ petty quarrels quickly go,
And soon again a kiss will rise above
The clash, and love renewed will glow.

If love to hate has turned,  it grows, it hasn’t died,
For love and hate, faces of the same gold coin;
Anger and peace both coexist, they lie side by side
And in the end again lovers will love and join.

Beware the silence, and indifference’s groans
For they’re the ugly beasts that love consume:
They chew it up, and spit out its barest bones,
Leaving behind loneliness, heartbreak and gloom…

A little anger is the spice of love
For lovers’ petty quarrels quickly go,
And soon again a kiss will rise above
The clash, and love renewed will glow.

Here’s the poem set to music and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 502 - GIBRALTAR

“Well, Gibraltar is a place which you either love or hate. I quite like it. It's a rock, that is essentially what it is. It's a British colony.” —  Nigel Short

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Gibraltar is a British Overseas Territory located at the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula. It has an area of 6.7 km2 and is bordered to the north by Spain. The landscape is dominated by the Rock of Gibraltar at the foot of which is a densely populated city area, home to over 30,000 people, primarily Gibraltarians.

In 1704, Anglo-Dutch forces captured Gibraltar from Spain during the War of the Spanish Succession on behalf of the Habsburg claim to the Spanish throne. The territory was ceded to Great Britain in perpetuity under the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713. During World War II it was an important base for the Royal Navy as it controlled the entrance and exit to the Mediterranean Sea, which is only 13 km wide at this naval “choke point”. It remains strategically important to this day, with half the world’s seaborne trade passing through the strait.

Today Gibraltar’s economy is based largely on tourism, online gambling, financial services and cargo ship refuelling. The sovereignty of Gibraltar is a major point of contention in Anglo-Spanish relations as Spain asserts a claim to the territory. Gibraltarians overwhelmingly rejected proposals for Spanish sovereignty in the 1967 referendum, and the idea of shared sovereignty in 2002. Under the Gibraltar constitution of 2006, Gibraltar governs its own affairs, though some powers, such as defence and foreign relations, remain the responsibility of the British government.

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LOST MUSIC

“Music is only love looking for words.” - Lawrence Durrell

This week, Poets and Storytellers United has given the theme of “Music for the Muse”. I brought to mind the often repeated words that lovers say when “that” song begins to play: “They’re playing our song…” And they become starry-eyed. The song is significant for those two people and is laden with memories. Alas, sometimes those memories are quite sad, especially if the love affair has ended, one way or another…

Lost Music

You left me, without a bitter word being said
Taking flight in a hurried flurry like a bird;
My life all of the sudden empty, void,
A darkness and a pain I can’t avoid.

When you were gone all of the music died
Your absence grey, my life’s colour denied
In midst of summer, now cold and frost,
All joy and song and dance were lost

Our song now echoes in my empty heart,
How can I listen to it since we are apart?
The music was once tender, joyous, sweet,
But all I feel now is sadness and defeat.

The fates conspired and our love was crossed,
We gambled, with our stakes too high, we lost.
Where are you now that I need you most?
A hazy shadow, an elusive wispy ghost.

Memories, wakened by the music in my soul,
In fibres of my being run and consume me whole.
Music is the food of love, they rightly say,
And in your absence, no song will ever play.

Our song now echoes in my empty heart,
How can I listen to it since we are apart?
The music was once tender, joyous, sweet,
But all I feel now is sadness and defeat.

I couldn’t resist putting the words to music! Here’s the poem set to music and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

BIRTHDAY

“Don't just count your years, make your years count.” - George Meredith

The New What’s Going On blog is prompting about birthdays this week. I’ve just had mine last week, so this is quite apt. Here is my poem to read and it’s accompanied by best wishes for all who are celebrating birthdays (and not necessarily the day of your birth!).

Birthday

There was no cake -
Too many carbs and empty calories;
Besides, sugar is evil we are told.
(Act your age, cake is for five-ear olds!)

There were no candles -
Definitely a fire hazard!
And they always melt and make a mess on the frosting
(Anyway, there is no cake, and you don’t like eating wax, do you?)

There were no presents -
You have everything you need.
What do you want at your age?
(You’re too difficult to shop for anyway…)

There was no party -
I’m sure the neighbours would complain,
Strangers popping in, noise, loud music all night
(Can you imagine yourself wearing a paper hat?)

There was no card -
Who sends cards nowadays?
You’re lucky to get an email:
(With “Belated Birthday Wishes” a month later.)

There was no alcohol -
In your condition? That’s a no-no,
Too many interactions with your medication.
(The doctor forbade it, you know it full well!)

So I went out alone to the pub,
And had a good counter meal with a nice wine.
There was a piece of cake with a candle on it afterwards;
And the barman sang “Happy Birthday”
And everyone joined in.
I felt quite merry, and the fellow patrons too.
There was music playing on the jukebox
And we all danced like there was no tomorrow,
With no complaints from anyone.

A touch of indigestion later,
A deep sleep (thank you, alcohol/medication interactions!),
A bit of molten wax on my coat sleeve,
A gift of a bottle of champagne in the fridge,
And in my pocket a little card,
Scribbled in neat, flowery script:
“Happy Birthday, from Julia!
That was great fun tonight.
Call me… 74530029
It's my birthday next week.”

A SMALL THING

“All relationships change the brain - but most important are the intimate bonds that foster or fail us, altering the delicate circuits that shape memories, emotions and that ultimate souvenir, the self.” - Diane Ackerman

This week, Poets and Storytellers United has given the theme of “Stubborn About the Small Things”. My poem was triggered by the trifles we have kept as mementos in some unopened drawer or closed cupboard. We look at those as we one day come across them and they awaken memories. Here is a poem on that theme:

A Small Thing

I clutch it tightly in my hand

A small thing, a bagatelle, a trifle -

And yet for me it’s special, grand,

Worthy enough my breath to stifle.

I feel its smoothness, and its metal -

More precious than pure, fine gold,

More delicate than a flower’s petal,

More rare than something choice and old…

“Love me”, you’d said and gave it me,

Feeling your soul were given to me also.

I took it looking at the wide blue sea,

Capturing sun, sky, your face - all I saw.

“I love you”, I’d whispered to you softly

And I grasped your gift so very tightly;

The tiny trifle was for me dear, costly,

Its dullness sparkling, shining brightly…

I look at it again, so many years later

And I feel a pleasure so much greater,

Than what a rusty metal fairground token

Would give, or our words then spoken.

“I love you”, you had said so tenderly,

“I love you”, I had said so slenderly.

And then goodbyes were uttered

Our hearts were closed and shuttered

And now a token is all that’s left

Once our union’s bonds were cleft.

I clutch it tightly in my hand

A small thing, a bagatelle, a trifle -

And yet for me it’s special, grand,

Worthy enough my breath to stifle.