Saturday, April 30, 2011

Poem: Nothing Special

Nothing Special (As father did)


Soon she came to realize
That s/he was nothing special.
All the words were but a guise
They were, nothing special.

She gave a heart
Now left with a w/hole?
Was it all for naught?
Was it, nothing special?

“They” did tell her she deserved better
But she listened with only half an ear
And none a heart.
Because she thought, s/he was
Something special.

But alas, it soon came to past.
It became plain to see
That she, to he
Was nothing special.

So she swallowed the hurt. Put up the pride
Wall, behind which to hide.
And to every man will be done,
As father did.

They will all be, nothing more to she…
Nothing more, than nothing special.


© 2011 (ad infinitum)  

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Poem: Bittersweet

 Bittersweet
       
       Bittersweet
Just out of reach,
Of your hands.
The goal to grasp
A dream to clasp
Slip away like sand
From the palm of a hand.

Bittersweet
Like loves defeat.
Sweet surrender
With no happy end-ing
Temptation pend-ing.
Put play on pause
With no forward or rewind,
Sunlight is beautiful yet blind-ing.

Bittersweet
And here we meet.
In the middle of our lives
No choice but to compromise
Walk along these
Dark, desolate streets.
Chill wind at back
Full moon above
Rock away the world to sleep
Rock a good bye to love.

And at this beginning of the end
Bid goodbye a lover, greet a friend.
All but memory is lost
And what else that remains is
                                                     Bittersweet!

 
©2006 & ©2011 (ad infinitum)

Poem: Beautiful/Deadly

          Beautiful/Deadly
     
       The Scorpion stings
Its nature true.
As is the cobra
Bared fangs, no lying to you.

But Rose,
In all his beauty
Hides his weapons
Deadly!

Misconceptions and deceptions
All part of the Crying Game
As this Rose hides his true intentions
Thorny secrets tear and maim.

Hearts and hands left bleeding by his lies
While deadly beauty shines in the sun
And behind the closed doors of night?
Well, roses die with their weapons.


©2002 & ©2011 (ad infinitum)  

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Poem: Of me. Of you. (Of us?)

Of me. Of you. (of us?)

The silence deafens.
Yet it speaks in volumes I can (still) hear
Loud and Clear.

Across the distance, I felt the retreat
It's been over a week. But I still cast my eyes
on to the recent past,
(though I know thine own eyes look back much further)

We may never meet (at least not yet).
But we have met.
In this "aether" net.

Doing this (forbidden?) dance, between "Pokes" and "Poetry".

I remember of meeting you in that dark shadow-y realm
Of when I listened to your darkness (mouth to ear in this medium)

Yes it is stark!
It is glaring!

But can't you see?
It has not corrupted me.
(Things you think I cannot bare. I have borne.
Even before I was born.)

This girl you've gotten to know
This woman you let in. Let be your friend
is as tough, as she is tender.

Age is but a number my friend
(as are vices, just 'dealing devices')
But I understand your angle
Your aim maybe to keep me at bay?
Make me see a light of day
and not be consumed by your own dark shadows?

I am not seeking to be your sonlight nor your saviour.
Just a friend, who can bend, without breaking.
(and yes, call me crazy 'cause I care, I don't care)

Though born bearing a name of "light"
This jeune femme too was born of night.
Albeit not close to as dark as ones own.
Darkness she has known.

Yes I live in the present
Yet I too, do reflect on the past
I know not what the future holds
But I always try to live in hope.

There may be, no you nor me
But is this as far as we can see?

Written or spoken, words are words,
But 'more than words' now there's the rub.

It was a meeting of minds that defied the distance "literarily"

But now, one mind is looking back in sadness? in melancholy?

While the other is staying steadfast until he, 'works his way back' to she.

"Those were the days."
  Were they?"

I say, Nay!

But rather, que sera, sera.

Come. What. May.



To: The Lion Hearted One

From: The Daughter of the Sun


© 2011 (ad infinitum)    

Saturday, January 1, 2011

New Year... Old reflections!


Wow! Does time fly. It's a new year already. 2011!

Albeit, personally, I didn't find 2010 went by all that fast. And I also thought 2010 to be good year (at least for me, in little 'enjoy the moment' bits & pieces). Here's hoping 2011 proves to be the same (if not better).


Nevertheless, with each new year, we often (or sometimes) find ourselves reflecting on the year or years that have passed. Those years that have gone before, which are now but memories of how we used to be, or what we used to do (if we are not still 'being and doing' that is).
Resolutions are made and we try towards achieving them... I have long since stopped making resolutions.

I am a person of the present, with visions of the future, reflecting on the past.... Of course, 'visions of the future' would be rendered null and void, if the so called Mayan predictions of the world coming to an end, were to come to pass on December, 21st, 2012... on my birthday no less!

Regardless, I'll end with a reflection on the past. A poem I originally wrote back in 2002.


Nature Child


At heart I am a Nature Child,
though now I may not look wild.
This young woman, once a girl,
used to look at the world
From high up on a *Jackspaniard filled tree,
pretending it was a ship at sea.

Being wind rocked!

This Nature Child
used to look up at the clouds in the sky,
While in the green grass field she’d lie.
The field wherein she’d seek out fowl eggs and butterflies.
This Nature Child,
is she no more wild?

Now grown is this Nature Child,
and to society has she complied? 
No more climbing **Golden Apple trees
Plum, Mango or Tangerine? 
No more pet goat to bring in,
No more scrapes on knees and shins.

Adulthood docked?
                                                                               
* Insect, family to wasps [Yellow Jackets], though red in colour, found in the West Indies.

** Yellow, fleshy fruit with a spiky seed, found in the West Indies. Not family to North American apples. 

©2002 & 2011 (ad infinitum)       

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Poem / Poetry: When Will You?



When Will You



You left them to rot
You vile and cantankerous lot
Nary a word nor a backward glance
But rather a laugh as they fell upon the lance
Of despair.
Woe onto you who did not truly care!


While they struggled in the mire
You reveled with your squires
Got drunk and sluggard on your fame
And let them go to pot? For shame!

What happened to your decency?
And so called sense of charity?
Where to went the “human”
In humanity?


You talk about change, for a better future
Yet you lie content in your stupor.
You dance in merriment on the graves of their misfortune
Only committing to the cause when for you it’s opportune.


When will you be colour-blind and cast aside your disdain?
When will you help them self affirm, alleviate the death/debt strain?
Don’t leave them to worry:
*Where have all the good people gone?”

Pray tell, when will you open your heart and allow this Nation to move on?



©2011 (ad infinitum)  



With the following attribution: * Use of song title by courtesy of singer/songwriter/musician Sam Roberts (and band).

Saturday, July 17, 2010

(mini) Movie Review: Inception

Am I awake?... Or am I dreaming?   

Recently saw Inception (starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt & young Canadian actress Ellen Page) and can't "wake" (I mean "wait") to see it again! 

One word: "Brilliant"!

"Astounding", even. 

With suspense, thrills and action, definitely makes you "consciously think" as you watch. 

I've read some comparing it to The Matrix and Vanilla Sky. For me it was less Matrix, more Dark City-esque! That is to say, in terms cinematographic mood and feel, not plot, as this plot was truly original.

The ending of this film, left me feeling similar to that of Shutter Island's ... with more questions than answers and wanting more.

Eye openingly Brilliant! 

Would indeed, "dream" of seeing it again! 

"Tattoo" Poem, published.

I know this is a bit after the fact (but I was preoccupied and hence did not get a chance to send it out sooner).
My poem Tattoo was published in the June, premiere edition of Dark Eye Glances. Said poem can be read here: http://tinyurl.com/DarkEyeGlances .
This is my first "official" publication (as opposed to say a contribution). I signed an author agreement and everything, giving them 1st publishing rights.

I invite you all to read the poem and give feedback on their FB page:
http://www.facebook.com/darkeyeglances


(As per that which is written on their website, re: "Readers are also welcome to submit recommendations for specific poets and poetry. We want to know what our readers like so we can offer them more.")

Next year, my poem, among those from others submitted throughout the year, will be considered for inclusion in the 2011 "Dark Eye Glances" anthology.


The anthology will be in print (and for sale on book shelves). More on that when the time comes.


Sunday, June 20, 2010

Poem : Empty Rooms

This piece was written some time ago in the mid to late 2000's.

And there are three associations a/o attributions to it:

1) It is based on a/o inspired by the opening chapter of the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick (which was later adapted as the basis of the movie Blade Runner starring Harrison Ford)

2) It also has a picture associated with it of the same name. That picture also being one of my own, seen > Here!

3) It is in dedication to my grandmother (Eulalie DeFreitas Edwards) who passed back in 2002.

 GrandMother (younger)




















Empty Rooms

 

The voices, faint like ghosts, are trapped
In these empty rooms, like memories of long ago
dimmed and precious.
We hear them in the void of silence.
Resonating off the walls like echoes.

Whose are these voices? And from how long ago?
We may never in this lifetime know.
We can only imagine as we stand transfixed,
Straining our ears to hear the words or the laughter
Peeling like the paint and plaster.

These empty rooms across the world,
A world that is no more than this
An empty room with traces of presence.

 ©2011 (ad infinitum)                                                                                      

                                                                                                      GrandMother (older)