Poems and poetry...

"Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal which the reader recognizes as his own." ~Salvatore Quasimodo

I haven't much written anything related to this month's NaBloPoMo theme of 'Poem' and have also said that I don't really write poetry... that may not necessarily be all true. At Kripalu I was part of a ... writing group... we met up maybe once a week, focused on a theme, wrote for maybe 10 minutes and then discussed or listened to what we'd written/what our thoughts were etc. Most of my writing during that time was... poetry... maybe I'll post it up here at some point.

I found this blog today: 'Is this Alt Lit?' - the writing is beautiful and resonates with me in ways that I can't explain. I'm looking forward to reading more from her.

The prompts for this month's NaBloPoMo are interesting but... well I find it difficult to write to prompts sometimes. A few answers though:

• Thursday, April 19, 2012 - What aspect of nature feels the most poetic? I find all of nature poetic... which aspect? Um. Maybe the waxing and waning of the moon? Changing seasons? Day into night? I have no response.
• Tuesday, April 17, 2012 - Are you more a haiku or an epic poem? Um... maybe both? A haiku one day... an epic poem the next?
• Wednesday, April 4, 2012 - What is the best romantic poem you've ever encountered? She walks in beauty (Lord Byron)

Happy Thursday all...

peace,

Ren

Inspiration... motivation... philosophy?

No quote today because I'm sharing another of my favourite poems... something that I think of when I have work days like the ones I've had this week. I'm a bit down... a bit achy... a bit tired. This gives me back some of my strength: 

"If "

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

peace,

Ren

Poetry...

"Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable." ~Francis Bacon 

In motion... because when I think of some words other words automatically follow (especially if they're song lyrics).

I've signed up to do daily blogging with April's NaBloPoMo because I really haven't been disciplined with the blogging... and I miss it somewhat. Today I was told that I needed to catch up on my blog. I guess that's enough of a nudge to get me to do this. 

Theme for this month: 

Um. 

Already I feel as though I'm going to be doing a lot of "I don't know what to write!" statements... 

I don't write poetry. I did once upon a time when I was much younger... I'm not sure what happened along the way. I do read poetry and as it's the first day I'll share one of my favourites. I don't recall the author (though it's from a story called 'The Crystal Ship' that's in a book in a box under my bed - I can locate it at some point) but it's stuck with me ever since I read it as a young teenager and the words flow through my head on odd occasions. It's about... transformation... and leaving the shell of this body for another. What does that say about me that it made such an impression? I don't know really. The poem:

"Who will dissolve? Who coagulate?

Who to pass the dragon,

and enter

the dark abyss? 

Silently, without motion, 

she enters the ocean."

Night all... I guess I'll be blogging everyday this month... Encourage me? :)

peace,

Ren