I intended to post this here to begin with, but messed up. Still getting used to being back, and there are changes to WordPress since I’ve been away that are tripping me up a bit as well. Anyway, I went to reblog it and accidentally reblogged it to my blog too. LOL…so I’m posting it here too. I WILL get used to this again. :)
Shhh
Amid the silence
Soft whispers of wind
Soothe my restless soul
Théoule Sur Mer
Snow melted down on Théoule,
But the sea seems cool – no swell -.
After another defeated night,
I regret the sweetest feast.
Was damaged by the shade of Time ;
You all, inanimate objects,
What has become of my soul ?
On that bad galley, I row !
And I need the sea breeze,
Otherwise, I foam and boil with rage
Like a sailor lost in town,
Prisoner of a servile life.
Give me now the sun warmin’
My skin, and like a dragonfly,
I will fly near the water sources
And wish I never bow again !
February, the 24th
awake
in darkness
time
unknown
eye-lids heavy
senses not
awakened
but I see you
at the end of
my bed
wake my body
wake my mind
am I dreaming
I will not
accept
death
you are here
we do have
today
tomorrow
the day
after
have you really
been taken
from me
your silhouette
shimmers
before me
unmoving
only
outstretched
hand
elegiac
I am not
scared
I smile
whispery tears
fall
from my eyes
and touch my cheeks
has life been
so cruel
to take you away
to leave me
alone
have you gone?
you gaze
upon me
blurred
yet
translucent
real
smiling
reaching out
if I rise
come to you
will my body
liquefy
into yours
I want to reach out
touch my finger tips
to yours once more
where shall
you take me
are you asking
me to be with you
for eternity
to be cradled
in your arms
as before
I shall
join your
shadow in the
darkness
of early morn
my stomach knots
I do not fight
your strength is
what
I need
make contact
let me feel
your touch
my life is
nothing without
you
I will join you
I shall melt
into the image
I see before me
I shall once more
hear your voice
feel your soft breath
against
my brow
I will join you
don’t fade
wait for me
wait
Where is our soul?
Keepers of abstraction,
we wonder what it looks like.
Does it have a shape, a texture, size?
What determines its boundaries?
It requires faith to know I have a soul.
I cannot see it.
Inside I know the rush of emotion.
No.
I have been told it lives in me.
Yes?
I recognize it in others,
just not me.
New writing prompt-
1. Listen to your favorite song.
2. Pick a phrase or two, a line or many lines, from the song.
3. Write a poem including those phrases/lines.
Here is mine-
Song:- Way back into love by Sabrina from the movie Music and Lyrics
Phrase/Line:- I know it is out there, there is gotta be something for my soul somewhere…
Something out there…
I find myself wandering around
with no aim or goal in mind,
with the knowledge that
there is something out there,
there is gotta be something
for my soul somewhere,
that would bring me
the faith I so desire,
that would set it alright.
I find myself hoping
that it is out there
for my soul somewhere.
The
free
soul moves
amidst the
frightening truths of
the dark gruesome reality.
Writing fibonacci poetry is quite simple, you just have to count the no. of syllables. I think you are familiar with fibonacci series, so the no. of syllables in every line of the poem corresponds with the fibonacci series.
e.g.- For a 6 line poem,
I LINE- 1 syllable
II LINE- 1 syllable
III LINE- 2 syllables
IV LINE- 3 syllables
V LINE- 5 syllables
VI LINE- 8 syllables
Skin, bones and muscle
And blood running through my veins
But I’m more than that
Let it loose.
Flee from bondage like a dove.
Soar like an eagle.
It rattle the bars of the cage
A metal trap
It scrapes the sides, it flits from
Top to bottom to left to right
Searching
For an escape.
A gap.
A glint of precious light
It yearns for liberation.
Knock down the barriers
Towering over your heart,
Closing in
Don’t you feel the claustrophobia?
Knock down the barriers
See the beautiful sights that you have missed out on
Above all
Release your soul.
view more at www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com
My mind, my body, my spirit? A little patching, pulling the kinks out, repairs and life goes on. After all the intent, in the photograph, is to provide nurturing to living things (plants, gardens, pets, family, friends). I will do my part. Will you? (by SwittersB)
The Lush beauty of this life within myself.
Awaken my soul.
Open my eyes.
I want to see, touch and taste your love.
My womb is filled with a creation that is divine.
My spirit’s doula says “push it’s time”,
so I take a deep breath inhaling courage and exhaling resistance.
My soul has awakened because I have given birth to my destiny.
Incognito to the whole wide world,
My soul walks on the parched soil,
Looking for that drop of sacred nectar,
Looking for the path,
Searching for the mysterious ways,
That governs my soul.
I’ve been waiting in the cold
dark, forever, it seems, at least
to feel your warm hand upon my body.
Unbury me from this hovel of dampness
that infects my bones, my joints.
I need your electric balm to invigorate
my mind, my soul.
This gray shadow has cast its’ net
too long, too far.
It has swallowed
too much of this earth
causing a great bulge
in yesterday’s news.
One – sided blues
that propagates itself
over the tops of its citizen’s moods
clamping down hard with its monotonous recital.
Sun! Unleash your soothing rays
for we cannot wait
patience has seen its overdue days.
© [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Sadness abounds the narrow soul
to control, explain
fear rides side by side
gripping at the throat!
of life
listless and in stupor
they contain all the pain
too much to swallow in the hollow
shallow smallness of their brain.
Narrow souls can never dance
if by chance
they entrance
then – the locks on their minds slam shut!
to “forever time”
destroying the essence of the sublime
forgetting the spark that lit their fire
snuffing it out to forsake
their desire
in control the narrow soul
is consuming sadness whole.
© [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Its just too difficult to let peace be flowed in the mind,
The mind which is indeed now accustomed to ravaging thoughts.
Its been very late for the fresh air to come and purify it all,
It all which now is polluted by the endless misery.
Its just too difficult, been very late for making the soul go strong,
The soul which is now hidden, shivering in the corner with no hope,
But the danger of the extreme pain, the one with no measure but pure painful awe.
remember those days
when you were a kid
not caring about gobbling up
5 candy bars
all at once
or eating a whole bag of Doritos
before dinner?
it was that wanton “gall of it all”
that carefree “live in the moment”
attitude that you long for again
children are the essence of life
the ones that adults admire most
they represent freedom
freedom of spirit
freedom of movement
freedom of the soul
to exist as fluid as a river
and as blazing as a wildfire
always
remember those days.
© [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
