“A Third Wave”
An elegy, you say?
Nay.
I will speak my own words,
In my own way.
Not out of pride,
But of necessity.
Hypnos calls me,
Somnos will not let me go.
Phobetor, Phantasos,
And Morpheus invite.
I succumb,
To Mr Sandman.
Affordable theatre in Manhattan
Great work makes you think.
Cheap tix. New plays. Lots to see.
Well done, New York Fringe!
No, my dog didn’t eat my first poem…
my computer is functioning fine
and while I’d love to blame my not promptly posting on wordpress,
that’s not the truth, either.
I keep my promises. I don’t promise often. Easier that way.
But
a chance to audition for Oscar-winning director Steve McQueen
is an opportunity that comes along maybe once every 12 years…
So I made a compromise.
I went uptown writing along the way. All the way to 145th street, to be exact.
The line snaked for several Manhattan-sized city blocks.
I stood out. No, it wasn’t the poet glowing from within. Tho that didn’t hurt.
I was the only blonde. One of 3 females.
A rep looks at me and says, “I’m sure you’re very talented BUT I don’t think you could play an African-American male convincingly.”
I smile.
Fair enough. But to audition for Steve McQueen…
“The notice said, ALL people welcome and I am a person.”
We both grinned.
“Misprint.” and seeing my disappointment added, “Unfortunately.”
Do I trust him? Is he speaking the truth?
“We are accepting drop-offs.” he encouraged me.
I look at the line snaking around the block. and another block. and another block. and still going…
Thanking him, I hand him my headshot and resume.
Today, my creative energy is better spent writing poetry.
Questions
They have had all shares of questions to me
From the misty and frosty past
They have asked in the name of divine decree
And I have asked for their last
It shivered, my hope, from within a why
From the burning and glowing now
In attempts at faith I conspired with the sky
And I have always wondered how
It was known; they had all choices laid
From the blooming pain inside
All I could see was fate and its raid
And I have nowhere now to hide
Each has had his share of mistakes, no doubt
From the winters and summers hence
Where hope or despair may eventually sprout
And I have always lost to despondence
They have had many a days of questions for me
From the hazy autumn last year
Questions in deluge: the questions a mighty sea
And I have had all fear
#1 Morning Yearning.
The sun has risen,
soaking me up in its light.
I crave for a vision,
and a song I heard last night.
I need no words to rhyme,
I need no lucky sign.
Just a lovely smile to shine,
by my side, in my sight.
Spiritual Teacher
“Immovable by storm
Firm as a mountain
Composed in praise or blame
Union of strength and tenderness..”
Seema Sahoo ©
memorandum
I wonder which voice
my poems sound best in
at what hour
to which person
I imagine they
are most true
always after midnight
and always to people who
only exist as passers-by
until I write them into
permanency.
man-made memorandum.
__ar.
Speaking to Stars
I speak to stars
which are brighter than the sun
which feels like an apple core
discarded in the withered field
that once was knee high before
the fourth of July
and now just mocks
who I could be.
Third Post: ‘To What and To Whom Does One Say Yes?’
‘To what and to whom does one say yes?’
One says yes to love, to adventure, to life rich and full,
One says yes to dreams.
Under pale moonlight in the dead of winter
Anything seems possible.
This man is a prince
And you are only a princess if you wish to be
Or else, you are adventurers together, together in a mystery,
As an old rhyme goes.
Back in the warmth and light of day
It’s so easy to shake off these dreams,
Regain the life you had before,
The magic of night useless in harsh daylight.
Shadows hide but also invite
Adventure and mystery,
Intrigue and romance,
That must not be forgotten.
Oh yes, one wants to say yes.
We must say yes!
Be a prince, a princess, a romantic,
A knight in shining amour
And an adventurer brave.
But most of all,
Be true and be real,
And say yes to dreams.
Title taken from Caryolyn Forche’s Elegy