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Open Poetry #36
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The end of an era – Part 1 (Story from my own titles)
| Open Poetry #36 |
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The end of an era – Part 1 (Story from my own titles) |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa 
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Shadows sing to the music of a moment but in Africa I’m listening to the frogs instead of Jingle Bells. I should take a gentle stroll through the minefield of the mall but it’s a bad place to be and quite a bothersome ordeal at Christmas time so see me like a phantom in a dream purporting to be real in a summer haze. Reality is born in the old in me but if it’s Sunday, it must be story time and the poor and needy, lonely, sad, like the fallen and the dead in a village of humanity can think that there’s a rainbow on a dark horizon when the rain falls and not think of cyclical maneuvers felt but unseen Winter is turning the air of love into an emotive roll but it doesn’t matter in Africa, South Africa, where life is good in the turn, turn around. It’s not like yesterday but it’s alright. Someone laughs between the trees and believe I would in secrets if not for the flame, desire walking, talking, of wisdom and hope. Look! It’s not as if it matters that I read from left to right when the sun, the son, is a million steps behind after the summer sun because I am love born anew in the shadows of the truth and the river sings beyond the limits. Someone whispers Christmas thoughts and wishes but nothing makes any sense and so I dream again of rich and juicy plums at the edge of need. No one needs to know about the jump and spirit plans because goodbye is just a word in the mind of a woman. I didn’t die but I believe it was me with blue eyes and backbone in the garden of love on wash day. I’m waiting for the sun, the sun, and not the wind and bricks of change! How the people lie – don’t ask me why but there’s always a sign beyond the tone when I’m sleepless in S.A. I am the will to believe in love because and simply so because of evolution, you see, and not because I throw “them” bones. And I dream of the weatherman and what to wear these days if not paradise clothes when I don’t look down like an artist on a wire. But where do dreams go? I think the energy of soul is the sinking sun and not the bread of life when the power of love like one last flickering fire in February memories but this isn’t confession time. It’s a story from titles and the words I heard before a summer rose sank in the quicksand of goodbye. It’s not echoes of indecision or a story of a “she” but men of the land, beware because she cries again and Sunday’s nameless woman, a once beautiful china doll, now just the words of spring from me to you. Thunder rumbles when a river meets the sea and waves of thought like dream energy come back above my head in the blue, so blue, of sky and tonight perhaps I am now like a willow tree in the game of life and not a girl turned woman, older now. Who writes of love’s awakening and what the spirit knows in the silence of heartache? What is love? Hey you! Why don’t you let it out? Love is a friend they say not the happy-sac of heart in the shadows of a picture un-perfect. It’s the wall of truth fresh from the earth in spheres of the natural where once a budding rose, my heart, folded first in the deal. Be calm. I love alone in the waiting game like a lily amidst brambles, thorns, of life. Helen |
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| © Copyright 2005 Helen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Helen....I find it so amazing, the way you do this...and it sounds great and is meaningful. Makes me happy to know you.  |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Thank you, Martie. You do know that I appreciate your comments very much. I just thought it would be a fitting way to sum up my time here - just didn't realise that I'd written so much. Whew! |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Part I suggests there will be a Part II  Helen, you are so talented at making poems out of other poets' titles. It was good to read one of your own titles! I especially enjoyed the following lines, "Thunder rumbles when a river meets the sea and waves of thought like dream energy come back above my head in the blue, so blue, of sky and tonight perhaps I am now like a willow tree in the game of life and not a girl turned woman, older now." Beautifully, and meaningfully inter-woven! Hugs with love, Linda |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
This m'dear takes quite a talent and time. Very well done Helen. Hugs~Nancy Now - while the leaves still dance on the wind |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Thanks Linda and Nancy for the read. I have enjoyed writing these little stories but, as they say, all good things must come to an end and what better way than to end with my own titles. It's sure been a trip down memory lane - some laughter, some tears, and certainly some pieces I can't believe I even wrote!  |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
 It seems Earth Angel and I are on the same wavelength about this series. Brava for you, Helen. I find it amazing, too! ....jo |
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