Categories
Lyrical Poetry

Of Belonging

“I wanted to embody the emotions I feel about ‘abandonment’, the word that I’ve chosen so as to write this poem.”


Of Belonging

Abandonment, what a sad word
For the living and this world
Everyday something is tossed away
Without chance of returning someday

Winds blow and rivers stream
While every creature dreams
Of belonging, of being cared for
And most, without wanting more

I want my whole self to be cherished
All of my thoughts unleashed
Living that good life unchained
Not a single piece of me thrown in a drain

We are a species born without furs
Our skin heated during summers
We can’t be abandoned creatures
For death awaits our fragile nature

How come we need to be dearly loved
To be wanted and be the beloved
And die in the hands of abandonment
Becoming monsters without good guidance

Somewhere someday we will remember
That we all need to be treasured
That we are connected through woumbs and oceans
And that the cries of those abandoned
Are achingly felt through our emotions.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry

To Carry Me Away, Away

A metaphor for stubbornness – a characteristic that fits me well.

To Carry Me Away, Away 

To abandon oneself
Just for once
To give myself
To the good ones,
To close my eyes
As to be blind
And letting it and all
Carry me away, away

Why can't I let me be -
A mechanized thing
Where still the bird fly
And everything living is free,
Where we still sing
And live through a lie
With visions of strong winds
That carry me away, away

Why all my stubbornness
All are living breathing
But in my head it's merely;
I can see my heart degress
Stagnation is that one thing
That causes the fear in me,
A tension a frustration
It buries me deeply, deeply

How shall I say
How will I wave
To the world to you
That I've lost something
While I was rebelling
As to set myself free;
As to find the escape door
To carry me away, away

My battle was loud
My battle an exhaustion
But inside I found
Another type of dimension,
The things that unfold
While it whispered it told
A secret, a truth, a lie
To carry me away, away.
Categories
Lyrical Poetry

The smell of fresh pines

The smell of fresh pines


The smell of fresh pines
Tickle my olfactory memory;
Instantly everything shines
Everything comes back to me

My heart travels back to infancy
And recollect all the joy, the laughter,
All the colors of that day I see –
And watch happily as it remembers

Oh that scent of fresh pines
It is a time travel machine
That takes me and my mind
In a beautiful Christmas dream

Those magical moments return
And I forget about the pandemics
And of everything else that hurts
Of everything that adds to the ache mix

Then unfolds in front of my eyes
The gifts, the warmth of love
A festive ambiance of big size
Happiness, when I open our treasure trove

So let the magical spirit of December
Float inside of our tired heart
And might the pines make us remember
The Christmas of our childish heart.


For the two Christmas poems I wrote in 2018, and 2019, I was inspired by the contagious festive mood of the buzzing month of December; moved by the spirit of Christmas and New Year. But this time, it was a little bit difficult for me to come up with something positive, with something that might alleviate our stress concerning the state of the world, the brokenness of things, our uneasy feelings, covid-19, unemployments, and all of the fake news, and infos hidden to us, and everything else… and of everything else. Thus I thought about what mainly automatically triggers my remembrance of those good’ol days, and it was the smell of fresh pines.

So, merry Christmas to all of you. I hope that we all might enjoy this little moment of respite.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry

Silver lines in the sky

Peace came home, to me
While I laid in my bed
Thinking, of silver lines in the sky
   They were dancing oh so freely
While they brightly burned their light

T’was morning, birds were singing merrily
When peace came home, to me
Clothed of silver lines, that shone brightly
Such elegance, it appeased my heart
Such emmited spark,
it erased the dark

The sky was plentiful of silver lines
And peace revealed its face to me
   It was hiding itself amongst
silver lines
These silver lines in the sky
While all these clouds flew by

Suddenly these silver lines shapeshifted
And peace suddenly appeared
as a being
A gigantic one, a net of silver lines
   It walked passed me,
touching my face
It was spirit, and I was all amazed

I followed it till the vast ocean
And there, it mingled with the water –
The ocean became sprightly,
filled of peace
And in my mind I ran and plunged
Where peace I breathed
within my lungs

Peace came home, to me
While I laid on my bed
Thinking, of silver lines in the sky.

                                …

I was recently shuffling through the pages of the encyclopedia of magical creatures, and those words by the mythological Morrigan instantly fired up my inspiration to write this poem, which, compared to peace, please, is more visceral, more about the personalization of the emotions I felt on the moment where I imagined those silver lines hovering in the sky, triggered by the lines ‘peace up to heaven, heaven over earth, earth under heaven, peace in everyone’.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry

Everything that I might be

Though able-bodied, I feel this incapacity
The incapacity to shake myself up
Right from the start, when the sun rises
For I wake up to forget, everything that I might be

I then search within my mind
This wondrous mind of mine
Forking deeply, digging, searching
For that missing piece hidden deep,
That one clue that I need to find

I want to remember when day comes
As the sun showers its light upon the world
To remember all of my movements
Of my first sound and view
Of the first waves and its foams
Reminiscing about those lost hours
And eidolons, first cities, of faces
And of the cyclope slowly opening its eye
While it sees this world for the first time,
Sinking deep to become ours

I know I’ll search endlessly
While my body and mind grows
On top of mountains, over seas and lands
Everyday I’ll learn to construct
As to one day rise up and remember
Everything that I might be.

 

I am obsessed about the beginning of existence and knowledge of one-self, fascinated by all of these layers that seem to shrink inside the smallest dot that might be.

 

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Narrative Poetry

Cosmic Death Of The Lover

Black white photo of flowers in a bottle, a mug of black coffee, cosmic doodles, and a handwritten note
Inspired by NEOWISE, comet that recently apperead in our sky. I hope that one day I’ll be able to see one.

The girl went on singing
Along the road, gushing
The lover merely speaking
Mesmerized, fascinated, adoring.
The girl then danced lovingly
While the moon shone brightly
And where her skin her body
Became transparent and shiny.
Suddenly the lover was scared
As the girl loved flew in the air
The lover thought it a snare
Standing at the verge of nowhere.
Her body was stellar bright
Lighting the sky of that night,
Singing prettier with all her might
Beaming to the lover a warm light.
Frightened, the lover ran away
Certain that it was a dark fay
For dark ones emit more light
That’s what they say
Thus feared to never see another day.
The cosmic body persued
As it sprinkled and spewed
Fairy dust filled of lewd
For the lover to be lured.
The lover ran and ran and ran
Horrified while it beamed closer
Terrified as it shot nearer and nearer.
She, was not anymore their lover
She was now a blazing flame
A girl now estranged.
Her long hair became a tail
A fiery comet that sailed.
In the end she burned and died,
The malefice away flied
As the lover forever cried
While their day became forever night.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

A Musical World

black and white photography of an acoustic guitar laid on silky cloth
My husband’s guitar
Let the rhythmic waves 
Come through to you —
Through your chest 
Through your breath 
Annihilating your weakness.
Let these sounds dance through  
Inside out, elevating you 
Setting that mind free 
As you liberate and you escape.
Open your heart wide 
And let the music rain inside
Making one with the storm
Tuning in into it, peacefully.
Let everything become melodious 
To find that heart of yours appeased 
While you become the softness 
Through which the music irradiates.
Come with me, take my hand 
And let's bound with the rhythm 
Feel, yes feel the depth of oceans 
Rising tides that become one beat —
The ultimate musical ocean 
Where we all birthed out;
Out of the vibrational chord of liberance
Right till here, in this world 
Filled, full, and fueled, with music.
The hum of wind, the echo of rain 
The symphony of crushing waves 
All sonorous, so musical.
Let the rhythmic waves
Come through to you —
Through your chest
Through your breath
Annihilating your weakness.

Today the 21st of June, the world celebrates music day, so, Happy Music Day to everybody. In the poem the paragon of music I wrote that music stays with me, even during the worst days of my life; and in such a time of great trouble, where stressful situations and heartaches gloom the sky, we still have music, isn’t it? Music which is without barrier. Music which is without color. Music which doesn’t make us sick. Music, which is indistinctive.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

My Mom, The Wren

red roses and a happy mothers day note
Happy mothers day to all

Your smile leads me again to where I began my life,
Your gentleness touches me deep, healing my wounds,
Your embrace, though am a grown up, cradle me tight,
And in this endless night of mine, your bright light looms.
Often, I want to creep back within your warm womb,
And become again that little baby wiggling inside of you,
As perhaps then, I dreamt of love all day through,
While I am sheltered, inside of your nurturing cocoon –
And for nine months, you safely carried me around,
In the end, you painfully delivered me to the world.
As your memories were mine to touch, my mind hurled,
And in my mouth, the milk of life springing from your breast,
Feeding me fire, where I knew I could safely rest,
As you sang to me an eternal sound, I perhaps knew then
That I would forever carry you inside of me, like a wren.

Thank you mother. I love you very much.

These days I am very busy indeed. I hope to get the time to write a blog post about the short story I’ve been writing recently, and of everything new that I’ve learned while trying to finish it in time for submission, and of the new story idea (for the Darcocyte series) that bloomed in my mind while writing it; but also about my new engagement that will be taking much of my time. Until then, take care.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry Ode Poetry

A Beautiful Enchantment

A poem for the 50th anniversary of “Earth day”

Blue lagoon and cliffs
Natural features of Earth – Le Souffleur, Mauritius
Earth, I love you, for my eternal seed roots into you 
Earth, you revolve, while the sea dissolves into you 
Earth, you evolve, while everything else dies within you 

Your belly is a jar that nurture everything that's alive
Your belly is a petri-dish where we all dive 
Your belly is a pathway, where we all drive

This little planet, pale blue dot, so fertile and damp
This little planet, rich with variances of life and lands 
This little planet, so colorful, so full with things that ramp

And your big arms, hug us, mortal as we are
And your big arms, cradle us, bad as we are 
And your big arms, protect us, fragile as we are 

How lovely for us to live inside of your dream 
How lovely to exist, just to exist, swimming in your stream
How lovely to open our eyes as to find us, in your rim 

Earth I do love everything that you contain —
The sea, the sun, the sky, the lands, this wellspring, 
You see, you hear, and I know of all the love that remain
While you watch in silence, with adoration, your everything 

Earth, what a beautiful enchantment you are 
Earth, you are a treasure chest that contains all 
Earth, your secret, the chamber inside, your half dark 
Earth, I am silent, and in this silence I watch you grow whole.

Happy Earth day to all. I hope you are all safe out there. Earth is going through a harsh winter, and where the summer, as for every other seasons, will soon come around again, and perhaps, with some new types of plant shrouding here and there. Until then, stay inside, for fairies and other magical creatures don’t like humans seeing them working on upgrades, or fixing up broken things…loll

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Ode Poetry

My Ode To Poetry

Red book and cup of tea and saucer
On lock down days read or write poems

A poem is a river, the sea, the largeness
In which I can swim with openness
It is a deck, a station, the purgatory –
The place where the words fly away freely,
It is a landscape where all beauty escape
While the reader’s heart race as it takes a shape.

A hidden pulsating world unfolds
While it’s cold to summer, and summer to cold;
A brisk life rooting out from the void
The strange deknotting of what’s coiled,
And while your treasure chest opens wide
Your vast lagoon becomes mine.

A poem is a deep cave filled of creatures
This dark place leading to light showers
Where the noises rhyme strangely
As unspeakable hearts chant merrily;
Its obscureness, its enlightment, its evasiveness
The poem, it strikes, the everness.

A whole city is born, fiercely
Out of a burning gut, proudly
And while my mind gets high on these words
My whole heart drinks of the world
Under a bed sheet of blooming flowers
There where I forever remain immerse.

The poem is a ship that sails me away
Amidst sea, land, and sky creatures
All spheres of living, within timeless features,
And when I arrive at Harbour on a beautiful day
I lay down belly full, and happily wait
For the next ship, dying to contemplate.

A poem is a river, the sea, the largeness
In which I can swim with openness.

We celebrated poetry day on Sunday, and here I’ve tried my best to describe poetically my feelings concerning poetry, writing about how these lines carry me; carry my feelings towards the want and need for more poems.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry

Cry It Away

Roar, scream, shout, loud –

This pain, just take it out;

Sail your heart to December

A month where you might remember

That the joy of life partakes the soul

Even within these nights where it’s cold

Cry, sob, weep, wail –

And send your sufferings to a wave

There where it will surf away

Sucked inside the whirlpools ridgeway

Casted too, through winds of oblivion

Offered to the realm of this creation

Shrivel, lament, scorch, yell –

Your feelings to you need to be felt,

Your emotions breaking away into the night

As you’ll look into the face of fear without fright

While opening your eyes when sleep commands;

Reaching out to life with your own bare hands

Roar, scream, shout, loud –

This pain, just take it out.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry

Things Abandoned

Framed from ruins – Savannah Sugar Estate
My heart can't house things abandoned
As my heart will loudly sadly crack
And what escapes would be all maddened 
With my screams piercing, tortured on a rack

It will leave my body stranded, tired
Filled of morosities and blue colors
Stuffed with shaking bones all battered 
Where not even a grey sky make it offers

A fear of bitter abandonment,
A nightmare that once became alive
Where traumatism became all significant
And where I was drowning before I could dive

My heart can't house things abandoned 
They flirted with my mind and I got burned 
Everything around me got so saddened 
And sadly coming to me I knew I learned 

I can't be a sky abandoned to itself —
Stuck between dark space and land it can't touch;
Could it be aware of its vast lonely blue lands? 
Or else, might it be asleep that too much 

But I love to see them all these places 
Abandoned, with an atmosphere of peace 
Perhaps because they are places without faces
And that nobody else is given their keys.  


   
Categories
Lyrical Poetry Narrative Poetry

Layers Of Chaos

black and white picture of pens, pencils, ruler, scissor, cutter, and folded papers scattered on table
Amidst the chaos of disorganization

When it’s Dark, I can’t see

The confusion alleviates me

My senses are in dissaray

And I am lost screaming mayday.

A light goes on, shinning brightly

But its rays beam out faintly –

I am lost on my own way

So blind in a world filled of dissaray;

A sound echo confuses my mind

Further again I am unable to find

Where’s the center of my cosmos

Within the layers of the chaos.


Busy With Organising

I am busy on my own, trying to keep up with the organization of my posts and feeds, trying to experiment with days and time of posting. When my things are not organized I am very confused with knowing what needs to be done, and I am quite unhappy with my writing activities, for as long as nothing is working as I want it to, my brain is completely shut off – I am unable to focus further.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Narrative Poetry

Am coming back to you on a wing of storm

Black and white ocean view
Ode to the mind

A sky teared, opened

A form, levitated, hovered

My body trembled, raptured

Everything around, fell down, so sad

I tried, likewise, to reach

But my mind, ran away, to a beach

But still, our link, unbroken

Our eye, remote, and hidden

I realized, my only pleasure, taken

You were lost, then thought, forsaken

Oh! My featherly soul, I had to find you

Wherever you were, under that sky so blue

Am coming back, to you, on a wing of storm

Tearing, my flesh, to find again your form

My corporeal, its core, was attracted, and gravitated

Around, man-made planets – all, illusions

But now, that I have dragged, myself out

Am coming back, to you, on a wing of storm

Ready to dive, inside, the cosmic ocean

There where, without any attraction

We’ll only float, carried by the current

Until we touch, and remember, what we have been.

Copyright 2020 Eiravel

Most of the time, when I start to write a poem, I only have ideas for the two or three first lines, and for the rest of the poem, I often need to get the needed inspiration from nature, reading, or music, and where, strangely, the poem I write, takes the form of something that really connects to me – as if, I had solved a problem concerning my situation.

Of course, it’s art for the sake of art, but more than often, I don’t know why, but I unconsciously unleash things of a profundity that I wasn’t aware before.

The soul, to me, is the intellect. Before, I didn’t need it, for I didn’t need to think that much, my whole life had only been flesh and corporeal. But now that I need it more than ever… Loll – because now that I need to think a lot, because writing is an intellectual thing, isn’t it? I need to find my intellect again – thus, this poetic metaphor, an ode to my own mind.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

Merry Merry Christmas

Merry Merry Christmas
 Merry Merry Christmas
 May joy shine like fine glass
 Inside of your festive hearts
 Filled, of ice cream dreams
  
 Merry Merry Christmas
 May you live the magic
 And let yourself be carried away
 By the loud amusing joy ride
  
 Merry Merry Christmas
 May the loving floating ambiance
 Regenerates your all whole
 As you remember your childish heart
  
 Merry Merry Christmas
 May all the x-mas poems songs and stories
 Find a way to your tired heart
 Touched, you're healed on the moment
  
 Merry Merry Christmas
 May all of your lonesome blues
 Shifts merrily to the sweet sound of Christmas
 While your gift - the contagious festive mood
  
 Merry Merry Christmas
 I write with joy, I write with hope
 Where all this festivity hue blind my eyes
 While I fly under the same sky as the child.
 
  

When the contagious festive mood inspires

Here's how my children decorated this year's Christmas tree
That’s how my children decorated this year’s Christmas tree

I was not at all in the mood to celebrate; either did I ever planned to write a poem for Christmas day. But when today (it’s the 24th) I went with my children and husband to the shopping mall, something in the aura of this day inspired me to write this poem, which I’ll post tomorrow.

So, merry Christmas to all of you, and may the magic wand of Christmas gifts you happiness and inspiration, and might your heart revel inside of your childish memories.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

Mindscape

A Poem For This Pink October

I hope you find in poetry
A lighthouse hovering upon a tree
Some bucket full of fireflies
Flying all across many skies —
Of all colours & of all styles

May you imagine as you write
Knocking down all the sylphides of fright
Brandishing courageously your sword
Annihilating only through words
Finding inside you the river of worth

Might your mind escape far –
Away, inside of a speedy car
While you read an adventurous fiction
Filled of a superfluous action
And of everything else that your heart never bred

It’s dark everywhere, I know
And my mind feeds on a black crow
But that ray of hope that shines —
I’ve found only through these finds
That’s filled of poetries, books, of stories

Half of the world may-might be gone
But I — I still continue my escape
Freeing myself further & farther

Freeing myself further and farther.

***

What a beautiful month as that of the pink-October breast cancer awareness month — and why wouldn’t you be reading? Why wouldn’t you be writing? Why wouldn’t you be blogging? Why wouldn’t you be journaling in a private diary? Why wouldn’t you scribble down on a piece of paper everything that hurts, everything that gnaws your body, to then throw it away in the fire, or even to rip it into pieces, or even eat it as to spit it out. You can be everything you want through writing, you can seek out to everyone you want through writing, you can talk to yourself through writing therapies, which consist of relieving tension and emotion, establishing self-control and understanding the situation after words are transmitted on paper. You don’t need to be a skilled writer, only letting yourself express through any form and medium of writing can kind of relieve that burden you carry.

I love my sessions of free-writings, thing that I do in complete privacy, and where even though I often do it as to retrieve bits of ideas as to get the necessary inspiration to write, I have to say that I feel relieved in a certain way of a heavy weight on my heart. I don’t know the in-depth analysis about how this whole thing work, but it surely feels therapeutic. Thus my opinion and poem for the blog post of today.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

Peace, Please

A Poem I Wrote For World Peace Day

Peace, Please
So that our scars might close
Like the bud of a rose
And that our bruises might have time
to compose
A heartbreaking story filled of sad prose

Peace, Please
So that our wonderful children might freely
Roam their lands with assurance and safety
Under the benevolent eyes of what’s earthly
Extending their lives as to die naturally

Peace, Please
So that we might all live in harmony
As to forget past lives fueled with fatality
Seeing together that bright future build
on fraternity
As for us to find our own joyful remedy

Peace, Please
So that blood cease to stain the soil we walk on
So that earth cease to cry upon
Heartaches that become a pond
Filled of sorrows and happiness that’s gone

Peace, Please
So that our hearts might heal
And that we might see existence
As it ought to be seen
Where through our own healing
Peace might finally be achieved.

***
I’ve had some trouble finding the inspiration as to write this poem. I always have trouble writing about serious issues and theme; where I am always afraid to write something that might be misinterpreted by some. Since last week I’ve been trying hard to find the right words to write—since we’ve got Pope Francis paying a visit to Mauritius—but my guess was that I was so afraid that I might not be able to aesthetically express my thoughts, that all the words in my head blocked. Then, yesterday after I’ve fed my mind with some wonderful and aesthetic artworks, I was right away inspired to write peace, please.
Categories
Lyrical Poetry Ode Poetry

Flower Blossoms From Ink

A metaphor for my writings in a poem

Eiravelnotebooks20190123.jpg

Flower buds spilled from ink
& from my heart blossoms the words

Like beauty stirs the day
So does ink upon my sheet

Curving those lines
Shaping those stories
They blossom they blossom
From the cave of my mind
And the vernacular veins of my heart
Creeping their ways to anywhere

And as they go upon there
My mind stops & wonder & think
Of these weeds these seeds I feed

I write till non stop I write till extasis
Within my roots ink spills
Making shapes of my mind at stake
I am sane I am sane
As these words blossom
Into flowering buds.


This poem is the continuation of a verse I wrote last year, titled spilled ink. For some time now it’s been on my mind to finish this poem, where to me, the metaphoric picture in my mind of a poem really seem like flowers blossoming out from ink or, a pot of ink.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Occasional Poetry

Adrenaline Rush

A poem for the Indian Ocean Island Games 2019

Adrenaline Rush

You take You blow You take flight
You run You walk You sail bright
You show You stretch You fight back
You swim You dodge You soar high
The fright The doubts You kick out
On site Your strong You shout loud
The sweats The pain It’s no vain
The strength Success It’s all gain.

Efforts From dawn It’s all gold
Suffice You push & get bold
Your will Your thoughts They strengthen
To overcome To overrule Hand In hand
The resistance The doubts Of then
The defiance To laws Of whats Physical
The embodiment In trance Into Adrenaline rush
The fun Under the sun To dare To defy To win.

***

Mauritius is actually in the heart of a frenzy sports celebration that gather mostly southern Indian ocean’s territories like, Madagascar, Comoros, Reunion, Seychelles, Mayotte, and Maldives islands, where the fervency of these games brings along the warmth needed in our heart to counter these very cold days. I’ve tried composing this little poem in an iambic feet style.

Categories
Lyrical Poetry Ode Poetry

Dissection Of A Poem

do it yourself wall decor with pictures cut from magazines, handwritten poem, and photography
unconscious personification of the poems I write

There is a big difference when I write a poem and a story. To write fiction I’ll go deep into my imagination as to invent a story; whereas for a poem, well… it’s more of an instantaneous thing, almost didactic; and it’s only when I re-read the poem I’ve written, that I notice some elements of my own experiences and personal thoughts that are embedded into the poem. To me, the poem I write is simply an unconscious cacophonous blend of personal experiences, thoughts, wants, and needs – a dissection of the intimacy of my mind.  


Poetry is an intimacy,

From which I can’t quite ever recover,

All of these subliminal dissections

Of my mind that look so fancy,

Yet that portrays thoughts under cover.

You see the night and the bright;

The bride and its passionate mate

All of the happiness and all of the fright

Something dark, something like fate

All my rearing, all I am, all naked.

I dream of mares –

That wildly run into my nightmares

They are headless and poneylike,

They are all colours and rainbowlike

All living, in these poetries, dissected.

How would I describe all that flows?

They just flow, wildly, as I exorcise

Or perhaps its Mnemosyne, that sows,

Her seeds, which blooms, into nine muses —

Letting all the beauty of words rise.

If the poetry of me is a lie

From which I can’t quite ever recover

For through all of these dissections

Something truthful only to me comes

While all my thoughts, gently flow and fly.