Author: A. Gouedard

Day 28 ~ Blue and White

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my favourite colours now
are powder blue with white
and my father has painted my room
and my trike
happy to give what I like

I love the smell of fresh new paint
and windows flung open wide
it’s cosy in here but full of air
i watch the stars from my bed
the curtains never drawn at night

the summer skies are azure blue
filled with fluffy white clouds
sheep out to pastures high above
in gentle flocks they flow
wandering out of sight

in the distance beyond the trees
and the haze of several miles
is a blue and white water tower
striped, it stands, a lighthouse
far away from the sea

they are going to demolish it soon they say
I protest, I pray, I cry
surely someone will listen to me
but very soon it is gone
first lessons learned in sorrow

beauty can be destroyed
I don’t rule the world
here today, gone tomorrow

Day 27 ~ In Defence of Loki

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He’s a trickster and a liar.
We must accept that fact.
He does look like he’s crazy,
Just as he intends.

Loki spends his time alone
Pondering that master plan
With everything in place.
Until the time is right.

He knows and can foretell
How events will go.
He sits back and watches
As his cunning plans unfold.

Slighted by his family
He manipulates their weaknesses
Which keeps him well amused
Until the time is right.

He’ll embarrass all the gods
And make them look like fools
With his flouting of their rules,
Battling his boredom,
To keep himself amused.

The gods are often cruel
And far too serious.
As they indulge their pleasures,
Loki lolls about and laughs.
Loki played his game,
Until the time was right.

But look what they did to him.
They dragged him to a cave
They bound him to the rocks
With a serpent spilling poison,
Trickling past his thirst,
Until the end of days.

He can’t have been so bad.
His wife, dearly loved him.
In vain she sought to help,
Before despairing of the task.
He must have earned her love,
on those precious dark lit nights,
when the time was right.

One day the time will come
When Asgard falls at last.
Loki won’t defend them then.
He will take revenge.
I have a sense of humour too,
And I have read the runes.

Day 26 ~ Unicorns

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The places we have been
are pictures to us now,
postcards I imagine
posting to myself,
written with the details
of scents and sounds and words.
We climbed that ancient tower
to see across the miles.
Miracle of miracles,
we leaned against each other
walking hand in hand.
The scenes we saw before
are now as rare as unicorns.

Day 25 ~ Samsara

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Now
Now,
Now!
Now and then a silence.
Take this breath and hold it there, fill your lungs with scented air
Watch the sky, let all fears out in one sweet living sigh
Bala-laaaaa-lala-labaa-lalah-lala-la-la-lah she says softly, I shake my head but like this lack of words.
I like the lack of sense. I like the present tense of soothing sounds around me.
The ant that scurries by is red of hue. He drinks the morning dew and lifts the seeds upon his back.
He is my guide and fellow.
Sunset pink and purple merging into yellow.
So above, so below. So my heart seeks out the gold.
I have been told to follow.
I like my feet firm on the ground connecting me to earth,
To birth and signs, seasons of renewal repeating over aeons.
Samsara, samsara, singing through the meadow flowers and grasses.
Samsara.

Self-Isolation

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I don’t write personal stuff on my blog often (although a lot of poems are of course) but today I will break that rule

I thought I would have NO problems with self-isolation (I write, I study, I read, I go for walks, it’s fine) and I haven’t had a problem until VERY recently (after more than a month of it – started on March 15 I think). I don’t see people much anyway in normal life – my next door neighbours about twice a week (brief chats), a friend about once every 8 weeks for a coffee or some outing, visits from Aussie friends rare and very welcome, online friends every day (same as now) with no cam though, a hug now and then (lonely strangers have been known to ask me for one of those – always granted, why not). I saw my sons eyes on cam a few weeks back (very nice) but last night I was trying to write a poem about how I feel in isolation (really feel) and the only line I got was this ………..
” desperate to look in someone’s eyes, I summon Deliveroo” ….. kind of funny but pretty much true. The postman (if he brings a parcel) knocks my door and zooms on – by the time I open the door he is gone. The corridors where I live (and even the laundry room) are like walking through a ghost town. The Deliveroo guys (being mostly East European) make eye contact and do that charming little hand on heart bow some people do (I like it) but what I realised last night is I miss STRANGERS! The ones I chat to at bus stops, the checkout girl, the person who just walks up to me in the park and starts telling me their life story. I really, really miss that. Longing to see them again.

Day 24 ~ Gooseberry

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Neglected little fruit
I can rarely find
Green, you are so sharp and smart,
Ripened, you are sunlight
With hidden sweet, a pleasure.

The shy girl at the dance;
Sharp words can stop a suitor
But when once won she is the sun
Warm and worth the waiting.
It takes time to know her measure.

 

O

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

i wrote this last July but its suits today’s napowrimo prompt

A. Gouedard's avatarThe Dreaming Path

words are not enough
i could draw a line of dots
expanding into O’s
each one larger, broader, wider than the last
until they spread and shifted shape
into one gigantic throbbing heart
to embrace us in its grasp

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Day 23 L-O-V-E

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L is a seat to rest upon
O is omega, origin, oh! so complete
V is valuable, verified, voluptuous
E is the gate we keep closed in protection

Love is the sum of all these things
No one letter completes it alone

Day 22 ~ What the Sufi Said

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It is worse to be wounded by words than a sword
If the sword be not driven too deep.
But words you will keep, tormenting your heart.
The more so if they be true.

The truth and the lies dwell on the same tongue
but the mouth kept closed will gather no flies.
The heart of a fool is in his mouth;
the mouth of a wise man is in his heart.

In every false step there is something good
A lesson is there to be earned,
For he who wants honey must bear the bees stings
Accepting with grace, remembering what he has learned.

Nobody has ever lived in the way he would wish.
Many are the roads that don’t lead to the heart.
To live a good life you must love what you find,
Good works are the best place to start.