Posted in poetry, Shadorma

Heartsong

B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond – Nov 12, 016
Leonard Cohen is our inspiration for this week – especially his song Hallelujah

And over in the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads we are writing about those Still Points in our lives.

Heartsong

They stole my
words And spun them round
they didn’t
sound The same
Or even tell the story
That I meant to tell

They set them
To a melody
that Charmed the crowds And
fooled some fools
Until I
Wrenched them back again and sang
The song of my heart

cgk ’16

Posted in poetry, Shadorma

I Struggle

B&P Shadorma  for Nov 5, 2016

Today’s poem is “Traveling Through the Dark” by William E. Stafford:

Here is my Shadorma inspired by this poem

~

right or wrong
is not always clear
I struggle
heart and head
do battle in the darkness
while my soul seeks peace

Posted in poetry, Shadorma

Waiting

At B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond we are finding inspiration in the words of Bob Dylan.
I’ve taken mine from All Along the Watchtower.

Waiting

I’m watching,
waiting for the truth
listening
for sweet songs
telling the stories of peace
that will heal our wounds

Posted in poetry, Shadorma

Moon Lit

At B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond, Bastet shared the background of the Shadorma poetry form and challenged us to write our own using some of the ‘rules’ of classic haiku.
~
Moon Lit

Hunter’s moon
lights the barren field
where we met
last summer
rabbits scurry off to hide
are you hiding too

Posted in poetry, Shadorma

Dolor

Welcome back to Bastet!

This week at B&Ps Shadorma and Beyond we’re taking our inspiration from Autumn Rain by D. H. Lawrence.

Autumn Rain

The plane leaves
fall black and wet
on the lawn;

the cloud sheaves
in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;
the seed of heaven
on my face

falling — I hear again
like echoes even
that softly pace

heaven’s muffled floor,
the winds that tread
out all the grain

of tears, the store
harvested
in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:
the sheaves of dead
men that are slain

now winnowed soft
on the floor of heaven;
manna invisible

of all the pain
here to us given;
finely divisible
falling as rain.

D. H. Lawrence

@)—>—>—

it was fall
I sat quietly
with my grief
beside me
brown leaves covered the ground
and I mourned each one

© cgk 2016