SOLOMON'S LIES

“The classic ‘seven-year itch’ may not be a case of familiarity breeding ennui and contempt, but the shock of having someone you thought you knew all too well suddenly seem a stranger. When that happens, you are compelled to either recommit or get the hell out. There are many such times in a marriage.” ― Kathleen Norris

The New What’s Going On blog has set this theme this week: “Ten Years Later”. In psychology, the term “seven-year itch” describes a period of restlessness or dissatisfaction that couples may face after several years of living  together. Studies show that divorce rates often peak between the fifth and eighth years of marriage. Experts suggest this “itch” is often a result of the “honeymoon phase” wearing off, combined with the pressures of raising children or financial stress. On that theme, here is my poem:

Solomon’s Lies

Ah, Love!
Sweet love…

He says he loves me as he looks at me;
He says I’m beautiful as he kisses me;
His hands caress me gently, as he smiles…
And yet, his heart is growing cold,
His thoughts already distant.

He says my name, his lips so red;
He calls out to me, his teeth so white;
In his embrace, I feel so warm, so safe…
And yet his heart beats slowly,
His soul already gone, flown away.

Oh, love, how bittersweet you are,
You give me joy, you give me pains…
Oh, love, how hard and how bizarre,
Your sun shines bright, and then it rains…
Oh, love, you lie with bitter truths
And in truth you hide sweet lies…

He leaves and says that he’ll be back;
He goes away and takes his heart;
His eyes grow dark and dull.
I look at him, as he hurries away,
And yet, he doesn’t glance back.

He gives his heart to another,
His soft whisperings in her ears;
She smiles as she believes him,
And gives him her soul, as I did…
Gives him her heart, as I did…

Oh, love, how bittersweet you are,
You give me joy, you give me pains…
Oh, love, how hard and how bizarre,
Your sun shines bright, and then it rains…
Oh, love, you lie with bitter truths
And in truth you hide sweet lies…

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 there is delay between uploading the song onto the digital music platforms, so persist in hunting it down if you wish to listen to it.

MACHINATIONS

“Don’t walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me, just be my friend” ― Albert Camus

The New What’s Going On blog has set this theme this week: “Let's challenge ourselves to write about "women" or "a woman" in a new way, a way we have not done before.”, which celebrates March as Women’s History Month. My poem is rather complex as it looks at stereotypes in relationships, a perspective that is still widespread, despite the feminist activism paradigms, the attempts at promoting equality of the sexes, and even legislation that attempts to correct inequalities and give the same rights and opportunities to both sexes.

Machinations

I try to find a way around your secret machinations
A road that will lead me to your hidden stations;
Disarm your ploys and ways you betray my trust,
Regain control and again master my fate — I must.

Your clever plans, your covert sly manipulations
Your false sweet words your fervent declarations;
I need to show up your lies, expose your treachery,
Reveal your useless pretence, and your lechery.

And yet I love you, mindlessly, with all my heart,
My reason lost and only pure emotion taking part;
I know you’re bad and want to leave you, go away,
But my heart dictates what I do, and so I stay…

How well you set your crafty traps and hunt me down,
I fall into your murky waters and each time I die, I drown;
I know that following you, I’ll cry and suffer pain
And yet I bind myself each time to your iron chain.

I try to open the door, walk out, and from you escape,
My strength I lose, when I see your image take shape;
I need to build defences, close my eyes, stop my ears,
But always your presence I abide, I smile through my tears.

I love you doggedly, with all the pieces of my broken heart,
Despite your cold indifference I cannot go, cannot depart.
I know you’re bad and want to leave you, go away,
But my heart dictates what I do and so I stay…

I stay and as my soul will one day wither and expire,
My love will turn to coldness and will burn you with a frigid fire.
I’ll leave you and will efface all bearing your semblance,
Forget you and destroy every trace of your remembrance.

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 there is delay between uploading the song onto the digital music platforms, so persist in hunting it down if you wish to listen to it.

THE INK

“I have owed you this letter for a very long time-but my fingers have avoided the pencil as though it were an old and poisoned tool.” - John Steinbeck

The New What’s Going On blog has set as its theme the double whammy of “Unspoken -or-  Unwritten”. Here is my take on something that one would have preferred to have remained unwritten… A break-up letter is perhaps the worst thing one has to read and in many cases one would rather that it remained unwritten. My offering, is a blank verse translation of a Greek poem I’ve written, that has been set to music.

The Ink

Black ink, white paper,
A letter that has been written
Opened many wounds
And gave me great pain.

Words like knives that stab,
Words like sticks that beat me;
Paper spread white like a shroud
Stained black by the ink.

You left me and you took
The sounds with you,
Music will not play any more.
Surrounded by four walls
My heart is now broken.
You left and wrote me a letter
Your love was a false specter.

My life is now inky black
All your words were lies
Covering all like a white sheet
Leaving only my loneliness exposed.

The ink spills all over my future,
Blackening all, wounding me,
All my pages now black,
All my gifts to you given in vain.

You left one night like a thief,
And now I wander alone;
You made so many mistakes
You were in the wrong,
But I still smell your perfume.
You left and wrote me a letter
Your love was a false specter.

The Greek 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.

LOVE

“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” - Aristotle

Today, quite aptly for Valentine’s Day, Poets and Storytellers United has as its theme “Love, Glorious Love”. Here is my offering, which is a blank verse translation of a Greek poem I’ve written, that has been set to music.

Body with Body

This body which you touch,
This perfume that you smell,
Are now yours and only yours,
I’ve given them to you as gifts.

These lips which you kiss,
My eyes that you gaze into,
Are yours and only yours now,
Forever yours for all time.

This heart beating in my breast,
While my soul keeps silent,
Is full of love for you,
Walking on a secret, hidden path.

Body with body mingling
Is a harbour to shelter in;
Kiss upon kiss given
Is like drinking sweet wine.
Caress upon caress offered
Is like a tree in spring blossoming.

The words that you speak softly
Are sweet, joyous secrets
That caress the ears gently,
While I’m in your warm embrace.

All of my being is here with you,
I celebrate, I smile, I sing;
And time flies, and passes,
Gifting us only joys.

This heart fluttering, thrilling,
Looks at us with closed eyes;
Because love is all-seeing
Love is all-changing and renewing.

Body with body mingling
Is a harbour to shelter in;
Kiss upon kiss given
Is like drinking sweet wine.
Caress upon caress offered
Is like a spring tree blossoming.

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

WHITE

“Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.” - Hermann Hesse

This week, The New What’s Going Blog has set as its theme: “Letting Go”. I think that letting go of a relationship that is over and done with is a very difficult thing to do. However, unless we gather enough strength to let go, we cannot move forward, and of course cannot open ourselves up to a new relationship… Here is my poem (and song!) on precisely that.

White

My tablet’s scraped clean;
My life a palimpsest keen
New scripts to receive.
A page bleached, all blank
So white, so frank…
The past behind to leave.

I start again, hope dressed in white
Showing me paths to futures bright;
I throw all painful memories away,
And bold, I face each new day.

The sun is shining, candid above
It lights the world, fills it with love;
My heart now dares faster to beat
Wakened by Spring’s soft heat.

New love, all innocent and pale,
Grows tender, burgeons quick,
Enters my every fibre to assail;
And lights my soul’s spent wick.
On milky white page, so clean
A new story to write I’m keen…

Your snowy hand I want to hold,
My burning love to warm its cold;
Your heart vulnerable to render
Your castle strong to make surrender.

Let’s live a love that’s strong
Beautiful as a sweet song;
Through a prism our white
Will myriads of colours light.

New love, all innocent and pale,
Grows tender, burgeons quick,
Enters my every fibre to assail;
And lights my soul’s spent wick.
On milky white page, so clean
A new story to write I’m keen…

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.

THE STARRY SKY

“Nothing prevents happiness like the memory of happiness.” - André Gide

This week, The New What’s Going Blog has set as its theme: “The Things I’ll Remember”. Memory is a powerful force in our life and is indispensable to our wellbeing and health - one only has to look at the dire effects of dementia… My poem looks at a perfect memory that will persist till the moment I’ll no longer be able to remember or think of anything anymore…

The Starry Sky

On a clear and dark night
We gaze up and see stars;
Cold and clear is their light,
Burning in the small hours.

Your hand’s in my hand,
Our breaths synchronised;
We sit still on the sand
Making memories prized.

High up all the planets align,
Our arms firmly entwine;
Hear the music of spheres,
That’s delight to our ears.
How the sky conspires
With its starry bonfires,
Our true love to inflame
Lighting our heart’s flame.

While we wait for the dawn,
We embrace and we kiss;
Wide-eyed we look on,
Not a moment to miss.

As a star falls from above,
We wish never to part,
And swear that our love
Will forever be in our heart.

High up all the planets align
While our arms firm entwine;
Hear the music of spheres
That’s delight to our ears.
How the sky conspires
With its starry bonfires,
Our true love to inflame
Lighting our heart’s flame.

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

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.

FEAR

“Always do what you are afraid to do.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The New What’s Going on Blog  this week has as its theme: “Words of Fearlessness or Courage”.  My poem is below, but this time, the “song” that accompanies it relates to the very last line of the poem and illustrates perhaps the reason for the fear… 

Fear

“Why be afraid of the dark,” she said,
“Close your eyes and you will see
A great light and rainbow colours,
For within you burns a sun
Brighter than the one up high.”

“Why be afraid of evil,” she said,
“Open your heart and you will find
Goodness beyond measure,
This kindness inside, it is enough
To annul all wickedness.”

“Why be afraid of hate,” she said,
“You have the strength to fight it,
Your courage is beyond measure,
Bravery within you lies untapped,
Enough to let you win.”

“Why be afraid of love?” She said,
And she paused, thinking hard.
“Ah, indeed, love’s a force to be feared
And no matter how hard you try
There’s no way to counter its invincible power.
Respect it, harness its potential, enjoy its pleasures,
Be grateful for its presence in your life;
But be afraid of love; be very afraid of it…” She said.

The poem relates to the 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.

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.

SPRING FUNERAL

“The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.” - Jean Paul

Poets and Storytellers this week is asking us to take inspiration from what we like about the dark. Darkness is a state of mind that can manifest itself in the full sunlight of Summer or in the flowery extravagances of Spring. It can be felt amidst a happy gathering at a party or the joyous shouts of children playing. If the dark is within us, it can be difficult to escape from it. I remember an interview that Reba Mcintire gave and she said something like: “For me, singing sad songs often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open into the light, out of the darkness.” Here is my dark, sad song:

Spring Funeral

A funeral in Spring,
Much pain will bring;
Spring comes, nears,
Raining bitter tears…

Spring wakes deep in earth the sodden seeds
Making more acute my pressing needs;
The rain that gently falls will wash me clean
No more will I my painful memories glean.

I loved you such a long time ago
And yet I chose dreams to forego.

The greenwood leaves unfurl and open fresh
The breeze still cool, tempers my burning flesh;
Desires, passions, loves I bury deep in earth
Path chosen, heart dies, mind more is worth.

I loved you such a long time ago
But now allegro turns to largo.

As flowers fresh are laid by a new dug grave
Your thinly disguised betrayal I forgave;
The falling night will usher in the stars
Silence – except for mournful cries of nightjars.

I loved you such a long time ago
Now where to turn? To whom to go?

The poem is set to music, and you can find an index of 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.

BLESSED ARE THEY...

“Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent.” - Jonathan Swift

The New What’s Going On Blog has set as its theme the topic of “weariness”. A feeling familiar to all of us who have trouble dealing with modern days and the worldwide status quo… All of us who feel desperate, despondent, frustrated, downhearted, miserable, and yes downright exhausted and weary. Fatigued in spite of all of our attempts to right the wrongs, and make the crooked straight. My poem gives perhaps a little rest, respite and blessings to all of the dog-tired humanity who still try to make the injured world a better place, despite all odds…

Blessed Are They…

Who in adversity find hope,
And who in hardship cope
With endless woe and ill –
Who out of blackness, light distill.

Who even in injury forgive,
Finding courage to live and let live.
In meekness, their strength’s untold
They stand tall, resolute and bold.

Who have the energy to love
Even all those unworthy of
A sentiment so noble, tender;
Their own heart ready to surrender.

Who trust and still believe
All those who seek reprieve;
Who credit all of base humanity
With virtues that preserve sanity.

Who strive for peace and calm
And who on injuries pour balm;
Giving repose to all who are tired,
The sweetest respite they’ve desired.

Who make the crooked run straight
And the trivial things be great;
Who have humility, patience, charity
Giving their all with grace and verity.

THE AUTUMN FULL MOON

“No man can taste the fruits of Autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of Spring.” - Samuel Johnson

Poets and storytellers this week is titled “Hello, Fall”. Within that theme, I should mention that in Australia, our Autumn is during the  months of March, April, May, quite the opposite of the Northern Hemisphere. The majority of our population here is of a Northern Hemisphere heritage and all the seasonal holidays we observe are topsy-turvy! More so, if one is a recent arrival here, when these back-the-front seasons are quite startling. My poem takes that into account…

The Autumn Full Moon

Gazing at the clear sky on this Spring night
And looking at the full moon of September,
A distant northern Autumn I remember
When you were near, and your eyes were bright.

The stars are sparkling and the garden fragrant
The night is cool and air crisp as a crystal bell.
Spring flowers bright, in moonlight flagrant
But memory’s fallen leaves sad tales will tell.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

We shared a moon cake under full moon’s light
And laughed as Autumn winds blew candles out;
Now I can find no trace of you about –
I loved, you left, the moon’s the mistress of the night.

The Autumn full moon in Spring is mocking
My thoughts, remembrances, feelings frozen;
My life so empty, and your absence shocking
This lonely path we tread as we have chosen.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

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.

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.

PARTING'S SWEET SORROW

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” - Laozi

This week, the Poets and Storytellers  has given the theme of 14 Words for Love. I have used the 14 words from Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”: “Parting is such sweet sorrow, so I shall say goodnight till it be morrow…” as the springboard for my poem.

Parting’s Sweet Sorrow

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

The moon alarmed has hid behind a cloud,
The wind is whistling and the rain will fall.
And in my room my restless breath heard loud;
My solitude a gnawing pain, a soft grey pall,
A deadening fog, an empty echoing hall.

You write to me as you roam and sail the seas,
The words of love a hollow echo of your voice.
And in my empty room my heartbeats freeze
As your insistent absence will not let me rejoice;
I have to cope, there is no other choice.

The yellow autumn leaves swirl in the blowing wind
The rain now falls in sheets, the street deserted, void.
Sleep will not come to me, my mind to you is pinned,
Thoughts of your face, your touch, your voice I can’t avoid;
I wish that your departure I could rescind.

Time flows unctuously through the sleepless night
The curtain pulled back allows the street light entry.
The rain, the hidden moon, the sickly yellow light:
My only companions, my loneliness the faithful sentry.
When you are absent all my nights are white.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

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.

LOVE MISBEGOTTEN

“People do incredible things for love, particularly for unrequited love.” - Daniel Radcliffe

This week, the New What’s Going On blog has given the theme of “Rift” as its inspiration for our literary offerings. Lost love is of course a universal theme and much ink has been used writing of thwarted, unrequited, misplaced, duplicitous and otherwise frustrated love. Here is my offering (just reminding you, that April in the Southern Hemisphere is the middle month of Autumn, corresponding to October in the Northern Hemisphere).

Love,  Misbegotten…

I loved you, lost you, forgave you,
Love lost I gave you…

The end of April soon to come
And Autumn ripens like a juicy plum,
While moon fills, calm and silver,
The night cold, bright quicksilver.

I loved you, lost you, now all but forgotten
A love aborted, dead, misbegotten.

The end of April is so sweet
As memories, of foot so fleet,
That run by and disappear too quick –
Candle all burnt out with black wick.

I gave my heart, and lost it; as an apple rotten.
A love aborted, dead, misbegotten.

The end of April, and once again
Entices, binds with golden chain.
The moon gazes on, dispassionate
While dark of night, once passionate –
Now makes me feel the weight of many years.

I loved you, lost you, now all but forgotten
A love aborted, dead, misbegotten.

The end of April covers, seals,
And ultimately time passing, heals.
From apple seed, from rotting fruit
A new tree sprouts, takes root.

My heart regenerates, and love again dries tears.
No more heartache, no sadness, fears.

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.

THAT LITTLE SOMETHING...

“Only do what your heart tells you.” - Princess Diana

This week, Poets and Storytellers United asked us to write on something small but beautiful. What smaller than the dawning of first love? Something that we’ve never felt before and which starts as an insignificant little nothing that becomes something? That little spark that becomes a flame, and then an all-consuming fire?

That Little Something

What a feeling... Almost nothing,
In my mind and in my heart.
It is nothing or it’s something;
But it makes me jump and start...

What could I be lacking now?
What I need, and what I want,
Would my sweetest fate allow?
Or its lack my dreams to haunt?

Is it hunger, is it thirst?
No, my stomach wildly turns;
What to wish for, should I, first?

Ease of mind, for which it yearns?
Or peace of heart, about to burst?
What a feeling... How it burns!

What a feeling... Almost nothing,
In my mind and in my heart.
It is nothing or it’s something;
But it makes me jump and start...

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.

COUNTING STARS

“Perhaps they are not stars, but openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.” – ‘The Little Prince’ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The New What’s Going On Blog has set a theme of “Love Letter from the Afterlife” this week. One of the hardest situations we have to deal with as humans is the loss of a loved one. Especially so a partner, with whom we have shared our life up to the point of the cruel separation. If we are believers, we know that after death there is the assurance that we will rejoin our loved ones. If belief is absent or if doubt in the existence of the afterlife is in our heart, the pain of loss becomes much more severe. Losing a partner, especially one who is young may seem unjust, unfair, irrational. My poem today looks at this loss, but the viewpoint is from the eyes of the survivor…

Counting Stars

The night is dark,
But sky so starry.
You’ve left your mark,
I’m now so chary…

Mars red, is bright, angry tonight
Venus so silver, hides behind a cloud;
The moon has set, no more alight,
While stars by early morning cowed. 

And I, look up, the heavens scan
To find a reason and an explanation;
Perhaps a goal, illusions, or a master plan?
Or some divine order of causation…

Alone, my heart is hard and cold,
Alone, my thoughts irrational,
I tremble and my breath I hold,
To make of chaos something rational.

As dawn comes gently, like a feather
The eastern skies blush and lighten;
I count the fading stars to see whether
One will shine on, as the hours brighten.

Even the brightest star soon is gone
The mystery of night, I’ll never know,
Soon comes the sun, birdsong, early dawn,
And somewhere, near, a cock should crow…

Alone, my heart is hard and cold,
Alone, my thoughts irrational,
I tremble and my breath I hold,
To make of chaos something rational.

The day so bright,
But my heart is black.
You took your light,
I feel so much your lack…

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.

CASTING HOROSCOPES

“We are born at a given moment, in a given place and, like vintage years of wine, we have the qualities of the year and of the season of which we are born. Astrology does not lay claim to anything more.” - Carl Jung

The prompt from “Poets and Storytellers United” this week is to write something about “the most important step”… How one should best progress forward after that most important first step towards a desired goal has been taken.

While some people manage to succeed in progressing forward and taking charge of their lives in a planned and courageous way, others seem to stumble, vacillate, or look for guidance from others, or perhaps even from the stars…

How many people read their horoscope every morning? How many consult astrologers or tarot card readers? Maybe palmists? All seeking to find the true path forward and to take that most important step…

Casting Horoscopes

Trine Jupiter and square Mars,
The moon always  in opposition
While Mercury yet again is retrograde.
I gaze up counting all the stars,
Trying to define my position,
While searching for your hand, so much afraid.

Sextile - Jupiter and angry Saturn,
Gemini’s in the eleventh house,
Aquarius on the ascendant.
You left me once, now it’s my turn,
Trying my love for you to douse,
Ignoring all the pains attendant….

The sky is dark,
My thoughts so stark;
My heart languishes lonely,
Stars for my company, only.
I cast you far, far away,
The moon to keep at bay
My maddening, whirling thoughts of you.
I read my horoscope and find in it a taunting déjà vu.

The sun sets, Venus will follow
The zodiac rotates, and high up in the sky,
Cybele reflects in the moon’s shade.
My heart is empty, feels so hollow,
I cast the die, I try to push thoughts of you by,
But time reminds me of a fate I can’t evade.

Trine Jupiter and square Mars,
The moon always in opposition
While Mercury yet again is retrograde.
I gaze up counting all the stars,
Trying to define my position,

While searching for your hand, so much afraid.

The sky still dark,
My thoughts so stark;
My hand still empty, lonely,
Stars for my company, only.
I cast you far, far away,
The hag of a moon to keep at bay
My maddening, whirling thoughts of you.
I read my horoscope and find in it a taunting déjà vu…

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.

TOGETHER

“You are my best friend as well as my lover, and I do not know which side of you I enjoy the most. I treasure each side, just as I have treasured our life together.” - Nicholas Sparks

The New What’s Going On Blog has set a theme of “Friendship” this week, one that I covered last week in my poem. I don’t think I am too much off-topic if I present a poem on a special kind of relationship: The one that begins between two people who have a lot in common and where the special closeness and bond of friendship develops. As the relationship progresses, love enters the equation and the two become a couple. This to me is more preferable than the “love at first sight” situation, a relationship that is often like an exploding firework that fizzles out.

Together

I saw you, you saw me, we clicked:
We chatted, we laughed, time ticked.
Love at first sight? 
No, just good fun.
The night was so bright,
Something had begun.

I called you, you called me,
You spoke, you enthralled me.
We went out and dined,
Was all so civilised.
Your mind a great find,
Your company prized.

And then love stepped in slowly,
It overwhelmed us wholly;
You kissed me, I kissed you,
How could I resist you?
We watched the stars rise,
In each other’s eyes.

You stayed over, I stayed over
With breakfast moreover;
Became an odd couple
To never decouple.
With days so exciting,
And nights like lightning.

I moved in, and we both thrived,
Our house a calm, serene haven
Our lives renewed and revived,
You are at love a great maven.
We are together, to part never
You and I, a couple forever.

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.