Nostalgia

Nostalgia

In my room
there lies a nostalgic wall.
Memories upon memories
side by side - - 
postcards. Generic postcards.
Yet within each piece of dead tree and ink
there is a story
of a journey,
of a destination,
and of a voyage home.
Each rectangle and square
depicts a monument or event
tells an alternate tale
of adventure and discovery.
Everyday
the past is relived
and feelings unearthed
by this nostalgic wall - - 
forever remembering,
so that I do not forget.

Red Light

Red Light

Snipers run silent on streets: point and aim.
A target, the boy - his blood flies wild.
Lightning bolts rain hell from rooftops; their game?
To kill before being killed. Poor child.


The mice move on. Victim number two. It.
Her. Suspicious eyes. Bang! Bang! Red.
A baby wails in pain. Its heart was hit.
Both souls soar high towards heaven ahead.


The locus spread. Bodies and bodies pile.
Point and aim. The thunderclouds move for show.
Little girl, the target from a mile.
Her face says something that you didn't know.


She pulls a gun from the heel of her boot.
The hunter now hunted. Point. Aim. Shoot.

This is a sonnet I wrote for Grade 11 English a few years ago. It's not perfect, as in the some of the syllables and counting are off. 

♥ Turtles

A longing to create

I wrote this poem as part of my poem challenge. That challenge, which was to write a poem every day for as long as I can, has ended. About 3 days ago. I admit, I had missed a few days, but that was mostly because a poem was unfinished and I was thinking it over. This poem is called "A longing to create". I really like to sew, cut and paste, make crafty things, and just generally create new stuff. But I've been kind of uninspired lately so that is where the inspiration came from. In my head, it is more like spoken word, so imagine someone reading it like that...

A longing to create

 

There is a longing to create

flowing through my veins 

from my heart to my brain

just giving me pain

and it's a strain

to contain

wills and desires

a glittery lust

settling dust

of ashes burnt

from a muse's flame

who inspires 

who retains

thoughts and ideas

 withholding

possibilities

oppourtunities

creativity

and imagination

in a world littered

with diamonds and pearls

lost pieces of hope

sailing the river of soul

from my brain to my heart

flowing veins of art

suppressed in part

by time and chance

forever obstructing

the natural flow

eternally fueling

my longing to create.

Written March 21st 2011

♥ Turtles

I Won?

Remember that Spanish poem I entered into my school's Spanish writing contest? (Here if you don't know what I'm talking about). Well I won first place in the poetry category. Yeah. I'm kinda shocked and thoroughly excited. It's the first thing I've ever really won. They had a ceremony on Monday night but I didn't go, for various lame reasons (now that I think about it). The only two participants who didn't attend were myself and a guy in my Spanish class who wrote a short story. My Spanish teacher was disappointed :( I wish I had gone but alas, too late now.

I found out I had won something from a girl in my french class yesterday, who herself had won in the speech writing category. Today I went to the Department of Hispanic Studies to collect my prize: a pen, a mug and $40 to the university bookstore. Yea!! Now I can by some mints and sweater.

♥ Turtles

Loneliness

I decided to enter a Spanish writing competition at my school where you can enter a short story, an essay or a poem. And of course I wrote a poem, because I suck at short stories and the thought of attempting more Spanish grammar than necessary, is not particularly appealing.

I finished my poem on Sunday after thinking about it for the whole weekend. It's called La soledad or Loneliness. It rhymes in Spanish, but not too much in English. The Spanish version is first, and then my English translation (it sounds better in Spanish :P)

La soledad

La soledad
es una oportunidad
para examinar la realidad
de ayer

La soledad
no da racionalidad
pero la claridad
en el mundo

La soledad
es una invisibilidad
y una dualidad
nadie puede ver

La soledad
es la tragedia de edad;
la longevidad
de tiempo

La soledad
es fragilidad;
es la casualidad
de ser.

Loneliness

Loneliness

is an opportunity

to examine the reality

of yesterday

Loneliness

does not bring rationality

but rather clarity

in the world

Loneliness

is an invisibility

and a duality

no one can see

Loneliness

is the tragedy of age;

the longevity

of time

Loneliness

is fragility;

it is the casualty

of being

♥ Turtles

Just a bit of poetry...

Think back to my Challenges post, where I said I would attempt to draw something everyday for 30 days. Well, scratch that. I can't draw, and the prospect of doing that is actually very unappealing. So instead, I've decided to try and write at least one poem everyday, for as long as I can. Much more reasonable, although their quality is highly questionable.

So far it's been going well. I started yesterday, because I like to start things either on Sundays or Mondays. I won't post every poem I write but I've decided that I will probably post some from the week on Tuesdays.

The first one is a sonnet, because I haven't written one since gr. 11 English. I'm pretty sure it follows the rules, but is not to strict with the iambic pentameter. It is based on my Me to We trip to Kenya, a year ago tomorrow (post to come!). Salabwek is the name of the community we stayed in.

Salabwek

A soft orange sun rises on the plains.

The rooster awakens with the new dawn.

Mosquitoes on my arms bring me new pains,

While scars across my body are drawn.

But the scars do not last long, for today

The skies are filled with a healing power.

By Mother Nature's will I must obey

As the rain becomes my natural shower.

In the fields afar I hear a child

Singing a song of welcome to the air.

Jambo Bwana to this land so wild.

He sings: What is mine is ours to share.

I find myself so far away from home,

But embracing this land, to me unknown.

The second one was written today and was inspired by a line in The Gospel According to Peanuts, a book I am currently reading. The line is taken from Time Magazine: "Man now rejoices, said Time, ' that, to some extent, he has been freed from the fear of hell-fire, not realizing that he has instead been condemned to the fear of nothingness.'" Deep stuff.

What I Fear…

I fear for what the world will become.

I fear that which we have created will become that which leads to our own demise.

I fear that our belief in the tangible will destroy the unknown.

I fear that our civilization will result in nothing but a blip on the timeline of the universe.

I fear that the world will not explode, but whimper to its death.

I fear the vacuum of space, which will draw the last bit of breath from our lungs.

I do not fear Hell, but rather the vast emptiness of nothing to which we are all doomed.

♥ Turtles

p.s. Instead of saying handsome or beautiful, why not try "facial gifted"  it's random :)

A Poem of Remembrance

A while ago, I wrote this poem inspired by a picture of a black, southern, slave with scars on his back in  National Geographic's Concise History of the World (2006). Love that book. Sadly I don't have a photo, because I'm not at home and will not be back for about a week.

Since it's black history month, I thought it might be nice to post it, although I'm not the biggest fan of the month, but that's another issue. No name for the poem because I suck at naming things :)

Untitled

The scars of my people rang hot on your back

Their pain was yours to carry

The suffering, the crying of a nation spent,

Their hurt is what made you wary

But somewhere inside a part of you said

I come from a long line of kings

Brave people and faces who toughed all strife

Who were guided by a voice within

Your scars are reminders of battles long fought

The pain a distant numbness inside

My nation no longer weeps great tears

But still struggles to keep hurt aside

The thoughts and ideas that held us captive so long

Are still keeping many souls hostage

There's a long way to go until true acceptance is found

Until we're finally free of this bondage

But we give thanks to  those who gave hope to the people

Thanks to those whose voices rang loud

Thanks to the hearts who gave everything they had

We promise, we'll make you proud

I've got a Haiku on my mind

So occasionally I like to write poetry. I'm not very good unless I have a specific reason or some parameters (even then...enhh....). But I wrote some haikus the other day cuz I felt like writing but had no clue what about. And now I've decided to post them. Doubts anyone will see them but, oh well :)

Joy

What sweet joy it is

To meet Sir Death at his door

And venture inside

Red Light

The gun. Point and aim.

Red light upon his forehead

Watch how the blood flies.

Burdens

Heavy are our burdens

Crushed by the weight of it all

We have surrendered

 Inner Wisdom

Fly high butterfly

Follow the winds of Tara

Serenity comes

Untitled

Rumble in tummy

Om nom nom I am hungry

Yeah! Food is yummy :)