Ob-la-di Ob-la-da was a happy song
Sung in a happy time
But we were tangled in blue.
La la la la life goes on.
I found a new love
but I’m still wrapped up in you.
poetry
napowrimo
Day 15 ~ Floppy
Poems used to come easy;
I could refine them or not as I wished.
Now I have to struggle and strain using only six lines
To squeeze out some half-born attempt
That ends as a whimpering flop.
I should really know when to stop.
Day 13 ~ Horizon in Arcadia
There’s poetry on the horizon
on a far away beautiful island
surrounded by golden light.
Peninsulas, oceans and islands
blending in shades of soft clouds
fading away out of sight.
Ocean meets air and turns with the tides
and reality hides behind dreams.
Day 11 ~ Arcadia
I am cheating a little today but I don’t feel too guilty about it because this song made me remember what I felt like when I finished writing my unpublished novel and missed the characters I left behind in Arcadia.
Day 9 ~ Shoreline and Shallows
The foghorn off the coast of Trevone
Warns of shoreline and shallows.
It’s a sound that could always lure me back home.
Night or day, its sense of loss swings round the bay
Echoing distance and sorrow.
When my life ends I will hear it again,
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.
Day 4 ~Unillusrated
Where are the angels?
where is the child
too young to understand
the darkness of this world?
I have no evidence.
The image I saw is lost.
I don’t want to find it again.
Day 3 ~ I could paint a river
I could paint a river
in a wash of gentle colour
defined by softest blue
and tender grey and green.
To give it strange translucence
a splash of silver light.
I could paint a river
and never get it right.
Brush strokes can be deceptive
but when described with words
the image you will see
isn’t mine,
it’s yours.
Day 2 ~ Ancient Volumes
Old words are valued by some
But old thoughts are lost in translation
Or twitched and reshuffled to serve a new master
In tales that dwell on disaster
Dispelled, disabled, diverted
distorted away from the truth
as history turns a new corner
and books rot away on the shelves
stained with mildew and dust.
Day 1 ~ Elven Revenge
To enter with dignity
I begin an adagio
Played in a dark minor key,
Serious and sombre,
A step to the side of my natural presence.
It attracts your straying attention.
Then a plaintive air played without pity
Lures you to sleep
with lavender scent on your pillow.
Mellow with sadness you dream of the hills
And wish you were free to wander.
Swiftly switching we play an expanded cantata
In brisk and rippling allegro
Shifting to pizzicato
Through gladness and frenzy
to uncontrolled magical madness
where, without looking back,
I chain your feet sole and heel to the dance floor
And retreat to the windswept moors.
AN UPDATE
In February 2024 I went into hospital for a cardiothoracic operation which is on the main thoracic artery. I should have been home in about two weeks but whilst I was on the operating table I suffered three strokes which left me comatose for about two weeks, during which time I was living entirely in a deep and very realistic morphine dream. When I say the dreams were realistic I should also say they were pretty fantastical but totally believable. To me they were the only reality. I could not tell that I was dreaming. I am still not sure if some parts really happened.
The strokes left me incapable of reading, writing or drawing which are my three main interests. My degree has also been delayed again.
A year later I can write and use my smartphone, which had become a complete mystery to me, and I have listened to Audible quite a lot but I’m able to read books again. I still cannot draw. My keyboard skills are a struggle. I used to like walking in solitude and it often inspired poetry but although I can walk I can’t go out alone.
April is poetry month, and I have not written a poem since my stroke last year. I’m not actually sure whether I can still write poetry but poetry month seems to be a good opportunity to test myself out and so I do intend to try and participate this year and I will post the results onto Dreaming Path regardless of their merits. We shall see. It’s an experiment.
