SWEET MEMORY

“The eternal quest of the individual human being is to shatter his loneliness.” - Norman Cousins

The New What’s Going on Blog has prompted us to write a poem about loneliness without using the words "lonely" or "alone." The poem below refers to a memory of a lonely time and of a long walk in the dead of night in a foreign country… The feeling of isolation, away from loved ones, away from the one person who mattered most and who failed to be with you, the sense of absence and loss, are all expressed in this poem.

Sweet Memory

The secret, subtle scent of yellow rose
That has no perfume - still pleases the nose…
Trembling reflections of yellow gas light
In the still waters of the canal at night;
A shiver of the whispering linden leaves
As they catch gasps of wind under the eaves,
Sweet memory, don’t ever leave me...

The darkened room, a creaking ceiling,
Long shadows, emptiness; no feeling.
Sounds of barely heard soft music far away,
Shimmering strings, pianissimo they play.
A lapping of tongues as water licks
The dark canal wall’s old red bricks,
Sweet memory, never desert me…

And you so far away from me tonight,
Only your memory fuels my heart’s plight;
I hold the pain, how I wished you to believe me,
Sweet memory, unlike her, don’t ever leave me...

Sputtering candle, the spent black wick
Burning unsurely, licking the base of candlestick;
Hours, days, years that pass, bluntly avow
That death approaches so very quickly, now;
A sound of childish laughter sounds hollow
On the wings of distant morning, I cannot follow.
Sweet memory, don’t ever abandon me...

The tears of long ago, re-wept tonight
As memory persists and gives me blight
Steel pincers of memory crushing my heart,
Relentless as their manoeuvres start;
Taste of bitter poisons in my mouth wallow
Clutch at my throat, burn me as I swallow
Sweet draughts of memory that will never go away…

And you so far away from me tonight,
Only your memory fuels my heart’s plight;
I hold the pain, how I wished you to believe me,
Sweet memory, unlike her,  don’t ever leave me…

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

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

BLACK

“Blackness remains the coat you can't take off.” - Clint Smith

The New What’s Going on Blog  this week advises: “Choose one color--black or white--and explore the depths of meaning the color has for you.  Write a poem that immerses itself in EITHER black or white, but not both.  Don't even mention the other color in your poem.”  I chose black. Black as a state of mind, as a feeling, as an essence of being - the black of despair, the black of the mood one cannot be rid of, the black of hopelessness and anguish…

Black

Black is my life, dark is my lot,
And happiness, all’s gone, forgot.
Black, black, my life is black,
All sadness, only cold and dark…

Black thoughts, dark night,
No hope, no joy, no sight;
Black is the heart that dies
As love so far away flies.

My soul with pitch is painted
My life with tar is tainted;
Ebony nightmares conquer
My uneasy sleep, somber.

And without you, blinded,
I fumble in a dark abyss,
Powerless and weak-minded,
As your sweet kiss I miss.
Black, as a coal with no fire,
I burn in a dark, flameless pyre.

I’m dressed in cloth of ink
And draughts of poison drink;
Dark shadows, cold despair,
Choke me, rob me of air.

Swimming in waters of the Styx,
An ice-cold numbness will affix;
A sunless death, deep in Tartarus
Your lack so grim, so barbarous…

And without you, blinded,
I fumble in a dark abyss,

Powerless and weak-minded,
As your sweet kiss I miss.
Black, as a coal with no fire,
I burn in a dark, flameless pyre.

The poem is 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 note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

THE LONG RIBBON OF THE ROAD

It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. E. L. Doctorow

This week, the New What’s Going On blog has given the theme of “Through the Windshield” - something to do with cars, obviously! Here is my offering:

The Long Ribbon of the Road

I count the minutes as they pass
The road stretches ahead,
An endless ribbon unfurling.
I count the seconds as they linger on
The dark, long road heartless,
The miles to you unending.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The long ribbon of the road
Unwinds and mocks my speed,
As I attempt to catch the ribbon’s end.
The endless road stretches forever,
And like its dark ribbon up ahead,
My love for you is inexhaustible,

My beating heart, for you will falter
Although the love it hides won’t alter.
My raspy breath, my fevered brow,
The shaking trees, the branches sough. 
Your touch remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

Time drags as the road forever runs
And in the night I speed faster and faster;
I weather storms, battle with windmills,
Cheat hours, lie to myself, lose my reason;
Swallow my pride, pretend I’m in control,
Just to be in your embrace for a single stolen night.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The poem is set to music again, 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.

SMOKE AND MIRRORS

“I believe in low lights and trick mirrors.” - Andy Warhol

This week, the New What’s Going On blog  has given the theme of “Mirrors” as its inspiration for our literary offerings. A mirror was an early invention of civilisation, and right from the start, its purpose was manifold: From the stark truth of the objective reflection, and the subjective self-reflection for wisdom, to the perils of vanity and deception. It can also symbolise an alternate reality, the subconscious mind, and spiritual insight, or serve as a tool for divination and communication with other realms. A fractured mirror symbolises a broken identity, while a broken reality. Here is my offering!

Smoke and Mirrors

I drink, alone,
And smoke endless cigarettes;
A chain of smoke binding me
To your image,
On the mirror of my memory.

I smoke, solitary,
And drink hard liquor,
Swimming to you
As you recede, fast sinking
To the bottom of my glass.

And as the butts accumulate,

In the ashtray of your remembrance,
I resolve to leave you be;
Forget your face,
Burn your impression…

And the bottle empties,
As I try to drown your recollection
In my glass; but as quickly as I fill it
I empty it, encountering you
Ever present, at its bottom.

I formed you out of smoke,
A virtual image of perfection
In the depths of a magic mirror,

Manufactured by my need to love;
And all I’ve ever had was an illusion

Made of smoke and tricks of light, reflected…

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

Please note that the song has been submitted to music sharing sites, but there is a variable period of delay until the song is publicly released. YouTube is generally the most prompt.