Tuesday, 29 August 2017

Sharpened Visions 1

Week One - Sharpened Visions

A poetry workshop I am taking online. This week's prompt was to take a paragraph of prose and attempt to break it up into poetry....

"There in the narrow hall, outside
The bolted door with the covered keyhole,
I often heard sounds which filled me with an
indefinable dread—the dread of vague wonder
and brooding mystery.
It was not that the sounds were hideous, 
for they were not;
but that they held vibrations suggesting 
nothing
on this globe of earth."


~H.P. Lovecraft, The Music of Erich Zann

Credit: Alex Scibilia 

Monday, 28 August 2017

Tea Haiku

俳句

Haiku



Steaming water's kiss
Dry and fragile leaves unfurl
Peace and solace blossom

Sunday, 27 August 2017

Mela


मेला
Mela



Sometimes I like to imagine, when walking in the Gardens. I like to think of who might have walked there before and looked up at these trees. When the crunching gravel path bends away into the bushes, I wonder who might have already turned the corner, their footsteps fading before me into the past.

The sky is grey today, and this summer's roses have already taken their last bow.
But the Gardens are alive with another type of life. The air is saturated- not with rose-scent, but with drumbeats and laughter. It is heady with spices, music, and two doᴢen languages all blended together. Polish to Persian, Irish to Indonesian, and everything in between.

I think of those who might have walked here, and I wonder what they'd make of a giant papier-mâché elephant surrounded by dancers from all corners of the globe.
I wonder, what would they think; would they recognise us? Would they recognise our city? Our wee divided land in this swirl of humanity- old and new, near and far?
I like to think so- just a newer evolution, a better version.  Irish, British, Asian, Polish - everyone queues up to get their kids' faces painted the same way, after all.

I wonder all these things among the victorian plants, Bollywood dancers and a collection of pugs in miniature fancy dress. But then a young voice comes through the noise at my elbow.

A little boy his national costume and a strong Belfast accent, asking his parents the important questions that put my musings to shame.

"But Da, what if the elephant needs tae go tae the toilet?"

Saturday, 26 August 2017

Beginnings

I am recycling this blog, as I never managed to keep it updated. I couldn't keep motivated or organised with the original plan I had for it.

At the moment I have many goals-  one of them to become more disciplined (in writing and in life). I intend to use this as a sort of creative scrapbook. Each update might be a few lines or a whole wall of text. It might be a photo, music or anecdote. Folk may read it, or perhaps I will be talking to myself- either is fine. I expect this will mostly be in English, and there is a chance of occasional salty language or R content.

Credit: ErikaRaeHeins
Credit: ErikaRaeHeins
365 Days... Let's see where we end up...


Please don't reuse or republish anything from this blog without my express permission. All material posted here is 100% my fault, unless credited otherwise.