THE MUSIC OF YOUR THOUGHT

“Immortality is to live your life doing good things, and leaving your mark behind.” - Brandon Lee

Coming back to the New What's Going On blog this week. I have gone into the woodwork the last few weeks as there have been many things happening to me and around me: Illnesses, a death, some friends leaving Australia, and I have been busy preparing for a couple of art exhibitions that I had committed to some months earlier.

I’m sharing a French song I’ve written with you today. I’ll give you the lyrics and the translation if your French is a little rusty.

This song and all my music you can find in my “Otidorchestre”  channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

La Musique de Ta Pensée

« De tous les chiffres de l'alphabet,
C’est le cramoisi que j'adore… », dit-elle ;
Et je la regardai, déconcerté,
Amusé aussi par sa propension à colorer
Jusqu’au plus terne des sujets.

« La mer, elle vole si bien, chassant les rochers
Tandis qu'ils s'élèvent vers le fond… »
Je lui ai souri, me prélavant dans le soleil
De ses hyperboles, m'approchant au plus près de son étoile
En ce court instant d'un périhélie hyperbolique.

« De ton toucher, j'aime la musique et le miel, »

Murmura-t-elle, sous un souffle de ciel ;
Et j'ai chanté l'onde de ma main, trace de soie,
Sillon de sucre où mon âme se noie.

« Mes pensées secrètes vivent dans un tiroir fermé à clé dans mon ventre… »
J'acquiesçai, en caressant son nombril,
Voulant ouvrir ses cachettes les plus intimes
Pour m'y perdre tout entier.

« J'apprécie l'honnêteté des pégases
Qui, en période de mue, avouent ne plus savoir voler… »
Remarqua-t-elle pensivement, caressant mon omoplate,
Et à cet instant, je sus... oui, je le sus pertinemment...

« De ton toucher, j'aime la musique et le miel, »
Murmura-t-elle, sous un souffle de ciel ;
Et j'ai chanté l'onde de ma main, trace de soie,
Sillon de sucre où mon âme se noie.

Alors que je me préparais à un aphélie perpétuel,
Que je l'avais perdue, à jamais...
Dernière lettre muette d'un alphabet désormais sans chiffres.

The Music of Your Thought

“Of all the numbers of the alphabet
I adore crimson…”, she said;
And I looked at her bemused,
Amused too, by her propensity to add colour
To even the dullest topic.

“The sea, she flies so well, chasing rocks
As they rise up to the bottom…”
I smiled at her, basking in the sunshine
Of her hyperboles, approaching nearest to her star
In that single moment of a hyperbolic perihelion.

Of all the music of your touch,
I love sweetness…”, she added;
And I sang with my hand,
Leaving a trace of honey, treacly, sticky,
On her smooth skin.

“My secret thoughts live in a locked drawer

In my belly…”
I nodded, as I caressed her navel,
Wanting to open up her innermost
Secret hiding places to lose myself into.

“I appreciate the honesty of pegasi
Who in their moulting season admit they cannot fly…”
She pensively remarked, stroking my shoulder blade,
And at that moment I knew,
As I prepared for a perpetual aphelion,
That I had lost her, evermore.

SOLOMON'S LIES

“The classic ‘seven-year itch’ may not be a case of familiarity breeding ennui and contempt, but the shock of having someone you thought you knew all too well suddenly seem a stranger. When that happens, you are compelled to either recommit or get the hell out. There are many such times in a marriage.” ― Kathleen Norris

The New What’s Going On blog has set this theme this week: “Ten Years Later”. In psychology, the term “seven-year itch” describes a period of restlessness or dissatisfaction that couples may face after several years of living  together. Studies show that divorce rates often peak between the fifth and eighth years of marriage. Experts suggest this “itch” is often a result of the “honeymoon phase” wearing off, combined with the pressures of raising children or financial stress. On that theme, here is my poem:

Solomon’s Lies

Ah, Love!
Sweet love…

He says he loves me as he looks at me;
He says I’m beautiful as he kisses me;
His hands caress me gently, as he smiles…
And yet, his heart is growing cold,
His thoughts already distant.

He says my name, his lips so red;
He calls out to me, his teeth so white;
In his embrace, I feel so warm, so safe…
And yet his heart beats slowly,
His soul already gone, flown away.

Oh, love, how bittersweet you are,
You give me joy, you give me pains…
Oh, love, how hard and how bizarre,
Your sun shines bright, and then it rains…
Oh, love, you lie with bitter truths
And in truth you hide sweet lies…

He leaves and says that he’ll be back;
He goes away and takes his heart;
His eyes grow dark and dull.
I look at him, as he hurries away,
And yet, he doesn’t glance back.

He gives his heart to another,
His soft whisperings in her ears;
She smiles as she believes him,
And gives him her soul, as I did…
Gives him her heart, as I did…

Oh, love, how bittersweet you are,
You give me joy, you give me pains…
Oh, love, how hard and how bizarre,
Your sun shines bright, and then it rains…
Oh, love, you lie with bitter truths
And in truth you hide sweet lies…

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note there is delay between uploading the song onto the digital music platforms, so persist in hunting it down if you wish to listen to it.

MACHINATIONS

“Don’t walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me, just be my friend” ― Albert Camus

The New What’s Going On blog has set this theme this week: “Let's challenge ourselves to write about "women" or "a woman" in a new way, a way we have not done before.”, which celebrates March as Women’s History Month. My poem is rather complex as it looks at stereotypes in relationships, a perspective that is still widespread, despite the feminist activism paradigms, the attempts at promoting equality of the sexes, and even legislation that attempts to correct inequalities and give the same rights and opportunities to both sexes.

Machinations

I try to find a way around your secret machinations
A road that will lead me to your hidden stations;
Disarm your ploys and ways you betray my trust,
Regain control and again master my fate — I must.

Your clever plans, your covert sly manipulations
Your false sweet words your fervent declarations;
I need to show up your lies, expose your treachery,
Reveal your useless pretence, and your lechery.

And yet I love you, mindlessly, with all my heart,
My reason lost and only pure emotion taking part;
I know you’re bad and want to leave you, go away,
But my heart dictates what I do, and so I stay…

How well you set your crafty traps and hunt me down,
I fall into your murky waters and each time I die, I drown;
I know that following you, I’ll cry and suffer pain
And yet I bind myself each time to your iron chain.

I try to open the door, walk out, and from you escape,
My strength I lose, when I see your image take shape;
I need to build defences, close my eyes, stop my ears,
But always your presence I abide, I smile through my tears.

I love you doggedly, with all the pieces of my broken heart,
Despite your cold indifference I cannot go, cannot depart.
I know you’re bad and want to leave you, go away,
But my heart dictates what I do and so I stay…

I stay and as my soul will one day wither and expire,
My love will turn to coldness and will burn you with a frigid fire.
I’ll leave you and will efface all bearing your semblance,
Forget you and destroy every trace of your remembrance.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note there is delay between uploading the song onto the digital music platforms, so persist in hunting it down if you wish to listen to it.

THE INK

“I have owed you this letter for a very long time-but my fingers have avoided the pencil as though it were an old and poisoned tool.” - John Steinbeck

The New What’s Going On blog has set as its theme the double whammy of “Unspoken -or-  Unwritten”. Here is my take on something that one would have preferred to have remained unwritten… A break-up letter is perhaps the worst thing one has to read and in many cases one would rather that it remained unwritten. My offering, is a blank verse translation of a Greek poem I’ve written, that has been set to music.

The Ink

Black ink, white paper,
A letter that has been written
Opened many wounds
And gave me great pain.

Words like knives that stab,
Words like sticks that beat me;
Paper spread white like a shroud
Stained black by the ink.

You left me and you took
The sounds with you,
Music will not play any more.
Surrounded by four walls
My heart is now broken.
You left and wrote me a letter
Your love was a false specter.

My life is now inky black
All your words were lies
Covering all like a white sheet
Leaving only my loneliness exposed.

The ink spills all over my future,
Blackening all, wounding me,
All my pages now black,
All my gifts to you given in vain.

You left one night like a thief,
And now I wander alone;
You made so many mistakes
You were in the wrong,
But I still smell your perfume.
You left and wrote me a letter
Your love was a false specter.

The Greek poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

LOVE

“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” - Aristotle

Today, quite aptly for Valentine’s Day, Poets and Storytellers United has as its theme “Love, Glorious Love”. Here is my offering, which is a blank verse translation of a Greek poem I’ve written, that has been set to music.

Body with Body

This body which you touch,
This perfume that you smell,
Are now yours and only yours,
I’ve given them to you as gifts.

These lips which you kiss,
My eyes that you gaze into,
Are yours and only yours now,
Forever yours for all time.

This heart beating in my breast,
While my soul keeps silent,
Is full of love for you,
Walking on a secret, hidden path.

Body with body mingling
Is a harbour to shelter in;
Kiss upon kiss given
Is like drinking sweet wine.
Caress upon caress offered
Is like a tree in spring blossoming.

The words that you speak softly
Are sweet, joyous secrets
That caress the ears gently,
While I’m in your warm embrace.

All of my being is here with you,
I celebrate, I smile, I sing;
And time flies, and passes,
Gifting us only joys.

This heart fluttering, thrilling,
Looks at us with closed eyes;
Because love is all-seeing
Love is all-changing and renewing.

Body with body mingling
Is a harbour to shelter in;
Kiss upon kiss given
Is like drinking sweet wine.
Caress upon caress offered
Is like a spring tree blossoming.

The Greek poem is set to music, and you can find all my music referened in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

WHITE

“Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.” - Hermann Hesse

This week, The New What’s Going Blog has set as its theme: “Letting Go”. I think that letting go of a relationship that is over and done with is a very difficult thing to do. However, unless we gather enough strength to let go, we cannot move forward, and of course cannot open ourselves up to a new relationship… Here is my poem (and song!) on precisely that.

White

My tablet’s scraped clean;
My life a palimpsest keen
New scripts to receive.
A page bleached, all blank
So white, so frank…
The past behind to leave.

I start again, hope dressed in white
Showing me paths to futures bright;
I throw all painful memories away,
And bold, I face each new day.

The sun is shining, candid above
It lights the world, fills it with love;
My heart now dares faster to beat
Wakened by Spring’s soft heat.

New love, all innocent and pale,
Grows tender, burgeons quick,
Enters my every fibre to assail;
And lights my soul’s spent wick.
On milky white page, so clean
A new story to write I’m keen…

Your snowy hand I want to hold,
My burning love to warm its cold;
Your heart vulnerable to render
Your castle strong to make surrender.

Let’s live a love that’s strong
Beautiful as a sweet song;
Through a prism our white
Will myriads of colours light.

New love, all innocent and pale,
Grows tender, burgeons quick,
Enters my every fibre to assail;
And lights my soul’s spent wick.
On milky white page, so clean
A new story to write I’m keen…

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram Channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

THE STARRY SKY

“Nothing prevents happiness like the memory of happiness.” - André Gide

This week, The New What’s Going Blog has set as its theme: “The Things I’ll Remember”. Memory is a powerful force in our life and is indispensable to our wellbeing and health - one only has to look at the dire effects of dementia… My poem looks at a perfect memory that will persist till the moment I’ll no longer be able to remember or think of anything anymore…

The Starry Sky

On a clear and dark night
We gaze up and see stars;
Cold and clear is their light,
Burning in the small hours.

Your hand’s in my hand,
Our breaths synchronised;
We sit still on the sand
Making memories prized.

High up all the planets align,
Our arms firmly entwine;
Hear the music of spheres,
That’s delight to our ears.
How the sky conspires
With its starry bonfires,
Our true love to inflame
Lighting our heart’s flame.

While we wait for the dawn,
We embrace and we kiss;
Wide-eyed we look on,
Not a moment to miss.

As a star falls from above,
We wish never to part,
And swear that our love
Will forever be in our heart.

High up all the planets align
While our arms firm entwine;
Hear the music of spheres
That’s delight to our ears.
How the sky conspires
With its starry bonfires,
Our true love to inflame
Lighting our heart’s flame.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my Instagram site “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TWILIGHT LULLABY

“Every gift which is given, even though it be small, is in reality great, if it is given with affection.” - Pindar

The New What’s Going Blog has set as its theme today: “Twilight Magic”. My poem below is a lullaby that centres on a mother trying to get her baby to sleep at twilight time. For those amongst you who celebrate Christmas, the symbolism is not lost. May I  also take the opportunity to wish a peaceful and serene feast day amongst those whom you love.

Twilight Lullaby

Ahhhhh
La la lay
La  lay lullay 
La La la.

Sleep little baby sleep…
All’s good no need to weep.
Your mummy’s here
You’re her precious dear.

La la lay
La  lay lullay 
La La la.

Sleep little baby sleep…
All’s good no need to weep.
Sleep tight and dream
Of strawberries and cream…

La la lay
La  lay lullay 
La La la.

Sleep little baby sleep…
All’s good no need to weep.
Daddy loves you too,
He’ll come and play with you…

La la lay
La  lay lullay 

La La la.

Sleep little baby sleep…
All’s good no need to weep.
You’re safe and loved so much
Feel  my light, sweet touch…

La la lay
La  lay lullay 
La La la.

Sleep, as gentle twilight 
Comes, all is all right…
Sleep little baby sleep…
All’s good no need to weep.
As light dims, you’ll dream 
Of morning’s gleam…
La  lay lullay 
La La la

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

BRIGHT NIGHT

“Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.” - Calvin Coolidge

Poets and Storytellers this week has set as its theme “In Between”. This is appropriate for the ending of the year and that cluster of holidays between the old and new year. Christmas of course figures prominently and my poem is in the form of a carol that celebrates the religious aspect of this important Christian holiday.

Bright Night

The snow has fallen thick and white,
The cold is keen, the trees all bare;
A sky so full of stars so bright,
A night so gentle, still’s the air.

The shepherds doze, quiet their sheep,
The town deserted, all lights are out;
In warm beds people fast asleep
A stillness reigns, no sound about.

And suddenly, an angel down flies
A brilliant star lights up the skies!
A chorus of seraphs sings a hymn
To welcome the newborn King!
Sing hallelujah, up on high,
The birds wake up and fly,
Sing hallelujah, up on high!

The Mother holds Her Son so tight,
The cattle low, their breath so calm,
The Baby’s face so peaceful, bright;
All listen charmed to holy psalm.

The shepherds dazed approach,
And angels keep watch alert;
The animals nearby encroach,
All danger wanting to avert.

And lo, three men come in and bow, 
Their garments rich, with gifts in tow.
Gold, frankincense and myrrh they give,
The Baby’s kingship they don’t misgive.
Sing hallelujah, up on high,
A glimpse of heaven in the sky,
Sing hallelujah, up on high!

The night with mystery is filled,
The stars the sky golden gild;
The King of peace and light is born
Angels the poor stable adorn.
Sing hallelujah, up on high,
A glimpse of heaven in the sky,
Sing hallelujah, up on high.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

BLOW, WIND...

“The man who has experienced shipwreck shudders even at a calm sea.” -  Ovid

Poets and Storytellers this week invites us to find inspiration in the titles of Florence + The Machine’s latest album, 'Everybody Scream'. I was not aware of this group’s music until I read the prompt and I had to go and listen to a few songs. Even though theirs is not a genre that I am particularly fond of, the setting of some of the video clips was particularly inspiring. And Love of course is always a good prompt. The wild Northern landscapes inspired my poem as a folk song, and it is set as such in my appended song…

Blow Wind…

Blow, wind, blow gently
Sweet zephyr, blow…

My fairest love is far away,
And far from her I have to stay;
I long for her caresses
The perfume of her tresses…

Her eyes wide open smiling
Her ruby lips beguiling;
I long to have her in my arms,
Surrender to her charms…

Blow, wind, blow tender breezes
Caress her as she pleases;
Shine sun, and gentle moon,
And give to her my boon:
My earnest kiss so sweet
Tell her that soon we’ll meet.

My fairest love is sleeping,
And in her dreams is keeping
Our sacred, solemn troth
Embroidered on rich cloth.

Her breast is gently heaving
In sleep she is believing,
That soon we’ll be together
Despite the raging weather.

Stop, wind, stop storm and gale
My ship do not assail,
Rain, woeful waterspout,
My ship don’t knock about;
My love is dreaming, waiting,
This storm need be abating.

Wind, why do you blow so wild?
Why have you sea defiled?
Why waves so high you raise,
Why do my craft you raze?
In the blue ocean depth,
Tell her I love, even in death.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

BLACK

“Blackness remains the coat you can't take off.” - Clint Smith

The New What’s Going on Blog  this week advises: “Choose one color--black or white--and explore the depths of meaning the color has for you.  Write a poem that immerses itself in EITHER black or white, but not both.  Don't even mention the other color in your poem.”  I chose black. Black as a state of mind, as a feeling, as an essence of being - the black of despair, the black of the mood one cannot be rid of, the black of hopelessness and anguish…

Black

Black is my life, dark is my lot,
And happiness, all’s gone, forgot.
Black, black, my life is black,
All sadness, only cold and dark…

Black thoughts, dark night,
No hope, no joy, no sight;
Black is the heart that dies
As love so far away flies.

My soul with pitch is painted
My life with tar is tainted;
Ebony nightmares conquer
My uneasy sleep, somber.

And without you, blinded,
I fumble in a dark abyss,
Powerless and weak-minded,
As your sweet kiss I miss.
Black, as a coal with no fire,
I burn in a dark, flameless pyre.

I’m dressed in cloth of ink
And draughts of poison drink;
Dark shadows, cold despair,
Choke me, rob me of air.

Swimming in waters of the Styx,
An ice-cold numbness will affix;
A sunless death, deep in Tartarus
Your lack so grim, so barbarous…

And without you, blinded,
I fumble in a dark abyss,

Powerless and weak-minded,
As your sweet kiss I miss.
Black, as a coal with no fire,
I burn in a dark, flameless pyre.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

SPRING FUNERAL

“The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.” - Jean Paul

Poets and Storytellers this week is asking us to take inspiration from what we like about the dark. Darkness is a state of mind that can manifest itself in the full sunlight of Summer or in the flowery extravagances of Spring. It can be felt amidst a happy gathering at a party or the joyous shouts of children playing. If the dark is within us, it can be difficult to escape from it. I remember an interview that Reba Mcintire gave and she said something like: “For me, singing sad songs often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open into the light, out of the darkness.” Here is my dark, sad song:

Spring Funeral

A funeral in Spring,
Much pain will bring;
Spring comes, nears,
Raining bitter tears…

Spring wakes deep in earth the sodden seeds
Making more acute my pressing needs;
The rain that gently falls will wash me clean
No more will I my painful memories glean.

I loved you such a long time ago
And yet I chose dreams to forego.

The greenwood leaves unfurl and open fresh
The breeze still cool, tempers my burning flesh;
Desires, passions, loves I bury deep in earth
Path chosen, heart dies, mind more is worth.

I loved you such a long time ago
But now allegro turns to largo.

As flowers fresh are laid by a new dug grave
Your thinly disguised betrayal I forgave;
The falling night will usher in the stars
Silence – except for mournful cries of nightjars.

I loved you such a long time ago
Now where to turn? To whom to go?

The poem is set to music, and you can find an index of all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

HALLOWEEN

“A grandmother pretends she doesn't know who you are on Halloween.” - Erma Bombeck

The Poets and Storytellers blog has chosen the apt theme of “Halloween” this week. Here is my contribution:

Halloween

It’s a dark, scary night
Halloween is tonight –
All the ghoulies are out
All the ghosties about…

With a crick and a crack
And a tap on my back
I’m trembling and shaking, 
A-fearing and quaking.

It’s a night of the fey
Take care not to stray,
All the witches do sport 
All the fiends do cavort.

With a quick step I tread
With a bat on my head:
It’s shrieking and squeaking
And victims it’s seeking.

It’s the dark, stormy night
Of the hag and the sprite –
All the zombies parade,
All the children afraid.

With a shudder and shake
Until dawn wide awake,
I’m quietly abiding
In the dark hiding.

It’s the night full of screams
And of horrible dreams – 
All the spectres take flight
All the banshees delight.

With a sob and a sigh
With a throb and a cry,
I’m shuddering, shivering
Queasily quivering
It’s Halloween!

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

PRAYER

“Prayer does not change God, but it changes him who prays.” - Soren Kierkegaard

The New What’s Going on Blog has set as its theme this week “Eternal/Unchanging”, a reflection on those things that last forever, those constant and reliable values, the dependable and unchanging ideas and feelings that we can turn to, especially so in times of strife. For many people, religion is such an eternal and unchanging cornerstone of life and prayer is the way we can approach all things spiritual and strive to become better people. Here is my poem:

Prayer

I greet You, fragrant damask rose,
With perfume that delights the nose;
I greet You basking in the morning sun
Your splendour is second to none.

Your softness, tenderness and grace
Matched by the beauty of Your face;
Your touch is to the wounded, balm,
Bringing to the afflicted calm…

O shining star in heaven bright,
You bring to desperate souls delight!
You ease the greatest pain and sorrow,
Bringing us hope and love each morrow.

You sing with sweet and quiet voice
Making every sad wretch rejoice;
You speak and every word you say
Holds each beating heart in sway.

You are our tender, giving Mother
With love and care like none other;
You give our spirit food and drink,
And to our mind much to bethink.

O Queen of heaven, Mary bright,
You bring to us your fulgent light!
You ease the greatest pain and sorrow,
Bringing us hope and love each morrow.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

STARRY NIGHT

“I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.” - Dwight D. Eisenhower

The New What’s Going On Blog has set as its theme today "ekphrastic poetry”. I have used one of my paintings, which was inspired by Vincent van Gogh’s “Starry Night”, but brought up to date as it were, considering the number of wars and conflicts that are raging around the world at the present time. Some of us may be lucky enough to sleep and rest in a country at peace, but we must not forget how many people are living in the hell of combat - sleep and rest being only an unattainable dream…

Starry Night

Heavens are vivid, clear tonight
The golden stars are blazing bright;
We watch transfixed and glorify
The Maker’s grace that gave us sky.

The city sleeps content and still,
As sleeper’s dreams with pleasure fill.
Nightbirds sound the hours’ passing
And distant music sleep trespassing.

Calmness of peace awards us rest
And every child is quiet, blessed.
The moon looks down and sweetly smiles
Surveys the countryside around for miles.

Heaven is burning hot tonight,
Alight with violent fires that smite;
The missiles fall, explode and strike
King, peasant, young and old alike.

The city is embraced by a wild panic
All go to shelters, running manic;
Explosions, screams, war cries resound
Even in cellars deep, far underground.

Fury of battle and warmongers’ folly
Make every soul dire, melancholy;
Ashamed, the moon hides in the clouds
Wrapping herself in smoky shrouds.

Oh, foolish, crazy, deluded human,
Why peace forsake and become inhuman?
Your days are short, so very dear
Why waste them only to live in fear?

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites. Please note that there is some delay in publication of music on these platforms and generally the fastest publication is on YouTube, however, they will all make the music available within a few days.

APRIL

“A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.” -  e. e. cummings

Poets and Storytellers this week has as its theme “October”. That is all very well in the Northern Hemisphere, where it is Autumn, but here in the Southern Hemisphere October is a Spring month and our equivalent autumnal month is April. Hence, with poetic licence, here is my autumnal April poem.

April

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend…

Come, April, my old friend, again
Let’s talk, let us exchange pleasantries.
You bring me gifts - more white hairs,
More experience, my wrinkling face the evidence,
And yet I am none the wiser...

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight...

You watch me, smile and speak not;
April, you always were a good listener,
Hearing out my softly whispered confessions,
The patter of your rain, your grey skies our cover,
Our camouflage, your smile my absolution.

Year after year, my friend you come
Bringing chrysanthemums, rain-clouds
Crisp, frosty nights, woollen days, capricious sunlight.
As Autumn ripens, you herald Winter’s arrival,
And I with each of your visits understand your silences more…

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight…

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend,
Ahhh, April!

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

THE AUTUMN FULL MOON

“No man can taste the fruits of Autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of Spring.” - Samuel Johnson

Poets and storytellers this week is titled “Hello, Fall”. Within that theme, I should mention that in Australia, our Autumn is during the  months of March, April, May, quite the opposite of the Northern Hemisphere. The majority of our population here is of a Northern Hemisphere heritage and all the seasonal holidays we observe are topsy-turvy! More so, if one is a recent arrival here, when these back-the-front seasons are quite startling. My poem takes that into account…

The Autumn Full Moon

Gazing at the clear sky on this Spring night
And looking at the full moon of September,
A distant northern Autumn I remember
When you were near, and your eyes were bright.

The stars are sparkling and the garden fragrant
The night is cool and air crisp as a crystal bell.
Spring flowers bright, in moonlight flagrant
But memory’s fallen leaves sad tales will tell.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

We shared a moon cake under full moon’s light
And laughed as Autumn winds blew candles out;
Now I can find no trace of you about –
I loved, you left, the moon’s the mistress of the night.

The Autumn full moon in Spring is mocking
My thoughts, remembrances, feelings frozen;
My life so empty, and your absence shocking
This lonely path we tread as we have chosen.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

THE LONG RIBBON OF THE ROAD

It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. E. L. Doctorow

This week, the New What’s Going On blog has given the theme of “Through the Windshield” - something to do with cars, obviously! Here is my offering:

The Long Ribbon of the Road

I count the minutes as they pass
The road stretches ahead,
An endless ribbon unfurling.
I count the seconds as they linger on
The dark, long road heartless,
The miles to you unending.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The long ribbon of the road
Unwinds and mocks my speed,
As I attempt to catch the ribbon’s end.
The endless road stretches forever,
And like its dark ribbon up ahead,
My love for you is inexhaustible,

My beating heart, for you will falter
Although the love it hides won’t alter.
My raspy breath, my fevered brow,
The shaking trees, the branches sough. 
Your touch remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

Time drags as the road forever runs
And in the night I speed faster and faster;
I weather storms, battle with windmills,
Cheat hours, lie to myself, lose my reason;
Swallow my pride, pretend I’m in control,
Just to be in your embrace for a single stolen night.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

PARTING'S SWEET SORROW

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” - Laozi

This week, the Poets and Storytellers  has given the theme of 14 Words for Love. I have used the 14 words from Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”: “Parting is such sweet sorrow, so I shall say goodnight till it be morrow…” as the springboard for my poem.

Parting’s Sweet Sorrow

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

The moon alarmed has hid behind a cloud,
The wind is whistling and the rain will fall.
And in my room my restless breath heard loud;
My solitude a gnawing pain, a soft grey pall,
A deadening fog, an empty echoing hall.

You write to me as you roam and sail the seas,
The words of love a hollow echo of your voice.
And in my empty room my heartbeats freeze
As your insistent absence will not let me rejoice;
I have to cope, there is no other choice.

The yellow autumn leaves swirl in the blowing wind
The rain now falls in sheets, the street deserted, void.
Sleep will not come to me, my mind to you is pinned,
Thoughts of your face, your touch, your voice I can’t avoid;
I wish that your departure I could rescind.

Time flows unctuously through the sleepless night
The curtain pulled back allows the street light entry.
The rain, the hidden moon, the sickly yellow light:
My only companions, my loneliness the faithful sentry.
When you are absent all my nights are white.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

AN ACADEMIC DISCOURSE

“Common sense and a sense of humour are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humour is just common sense, dancing.” - Clive James

This week, Poets and Storytellers United asked us to write “Something Good”, something uplifting, something hopeful or amusing. I have put my tongue firmly in my cheek and I am giving you a little humorous poem — some nonsense verse that takes a little swipe at my fellow academics, who sometimes are too serious for their own good!

An Academic Discourse

Two rabbits, some hares,
Were splitting their hairs:
Their intent to argue creation,
Rain, and such condensation.
Plink plonk!

A rat, a gnat and two moles
Were digging four holes,
Deep in which to inter:
Bread, butter, liqueur.
Oh, yes! 

A frog from a bog and a hen
Constructed a large pen
To herd mewling cats,
All wearing elegant hats.
Meeeeeow….

A badger, a toad, carrying a load
Conversed in Morse code,
While giving great pain
To everyone’s brain.
Oh no!

And there were you, you and I,
And a blue-bottle fly,
Singing in tune under full moon,
Sometime in late June,
While pigs flew overhead
And our theories misled.
Mmmmm, Miss Lead!

Five bandits , two bears,
Were riding on mares.
Wanting to argue cognation
And establish their relation…
Cousins, I think!

A dog in a box, a robin, a fox
Looked at their clocks,
As teatime drew nigh
The tea in short supply!
How beastly!

A stoat and a goat, quick to emote,
Cried long in their boat,
Their tears enough, no surprise,
To make it capsize.
Blur gurgle!

And there were you, you and I,
And a blue-bottle fly,
Singing in tune under full moon,
Sometime in late June,
Eating butter and bread
Content and brain-dead!
Quite so!

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that the song has been submitted to music sharing sites, but there is a variable period of delay until the song is publicly released. YouTube is generally the most prompt.