The Wind is still Strong

The container of time lost by the wind. It escapes the boundary, as I float towards my culmination. Twists and turns in red lights, no floors in between, bends at her own knees, lovingly seeing true colors of the day. The morning has the smell of fear, the one that sticks to your nostrils, and as much you try to exhale it, it plaques stronger to your bones.

The say resilience is the savior, many moons looked after. And I miss, like a Halley’s Comet I miss, once, again, just like 40 years go, to be fully me. To accept myself. To value myself. To honor myself. Fear is ever-present, it’s my new air. I don’t know of anything else.

I try to remember in my own container of space how can I collect myself and knot the peace out of pieces of my broken soul. My head was bowed for too many suns and my back only recognizes heaviness and disappointment.

I often write of happiness, of that meeting, collided opportunities, where your true self shines, as you embrace your shadow. But nobody tells you how to tumble in the dark in the meantime. How to find a meaning in rhythms, as you try to fathom repetitive cycles of lessons you refused to learn – or your teachers were simply lousy?

I laugh at myself often, as the wind kicks me in the chest, still I swallow my fear, cannot spit it out fast enough. In the remnants of what I would like to be my old self, I find trails of never-forgotten childhood stories and anecdotes, so finely wrapped in the middle age tears and regret.

I lost my gravitational tides, I recognize only one e-motion, as my moon has dissipated far away. I don’t know how to rise again. As everyone around is so neatly pulled together, I break, once again, I break and there is no end.

I am a bat, carved in my cave, there are no senses except for my heart that beats so loud and relentlessly in hope it will frighten my fear. Will it ever run away?

The wind is still strong. Maybe if I hold on tightly for just a second will I become more resilient. More real. More me.

A Day without Me

It was just a day, an ordinary day. I was dressing up, putting on my black winter jacket, when all of sudden I was surrounded by darkness. A throbbing pain came down my neck and I was lost. Gone. But a Day without Me was born. I was eleven when I first heard that song. I remember how much I loved it. It had everything. That emotion. That power. But I never knew that one day, a Day without Me, might turn into Life without Me.

I still don’t know where it is. It’s not that dark but, my left eyesight is damaged. Still. But it’s not still. It has thousdounds of little, white flickering lights that my brain by mistake flashes up in an attempt to understand something. The bright lights are here, in a Day without Me.

Sometimes I swim. Towards lights. Trying to find my anchor, as a tempest storm rages in my head, my ears, my chest, my lungs, my womb. Rages and I spin. I try to swim. My core is still strong. I do every second morning 200 abb pushups. In between Days without Me. And my spirit sings. And says walk. You are a spirit walker. Or swim if you like. And I tell “But I am a spirit daughter. And a walker. In Life without Me, I can be anyone I want!” And he withdraws in confusion.

Darkness over my head I can conquer. I am safe for another 29 years. In the meantime, how can I create A Day with Me? And maybe then, a Life with Me!

The fireworks this very moment interrupted me. Again. My heart pounds. Spirit hides behind my ribcage. Crouch. Doesn’t walk. Doesn’t swim. It swings in the cradle behind the bone-bars, waiting to be born, one Day without Me.

Research at University of Wales: Poets living with a sky – follow up review

This research started several months ago, and I use this opportunity to once more express my gratitude to all poets who kindly took their time to participate and answer the questionnaire. Unfortunately, the number of participants wasn’t sufficient for deriving credible results so at the end we needed to go with different focus group. I was really looking forward to examining results, but as it comes with any research in social setting, the outcome can go either way.

I hope you enjoyed these beautiful poems, inspired by sky and that they gave you additional ideas for your own writing.

Maja

 

 

Poet and the Sky: Poem by Ana Daksina

“Today I Was a Poet” (an excerpt)

Today I truly was a poet, ay
A human being all unfettered by
The pond’rous weights which hold their dreadful sway
Over most lives — a pilot, cleared to fly

By virtue of a willingly paid price
In meditation, learning and despair
Past obstacles which threaten, in a trice
Now, suddenly and magically — there!

For more of Ana’s beautiful poetry, visit the blog here.

Poet and the sky: Poem by K. Morris

Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind (an excerpt)

On seeing the stormy sky
The poet thinks “man must die”.
He sees the young girl bloom
And says “she is destined for the tomb”.
Oh let us gather wild flowers
And not waste our powers
Trapped in ivory towers.
Beware the scholar’s domed head
For we are soon dead.
May our spirit fly

Ere we die
And are lost in endless sky”.

For more beautiful and inspiring poetry visit newauthoronline.com

Poet and the sky: Poem by Charu Sharma

THE NIGHT
Sometimes scary,
Sometimes lonely,
Sometimes quiet,
Sometimes filled with,
Voices and noises,
That exhaust,
The impatient mind.
Sometimes hide the pain,
Sometimes highlights,
Low points of the game.
The fairy lights shine bright,
In few buildings,
In our lane.
The stars twinkle in sky,
Everything pauses,
Silence becomes the voice.
Judgement declines,
Creativity heightens,
Many lone hearts,
Comfort themselves,
By saying,
It’s not just them,
Every one is waiting,
For the sunny life.
The neighbor beats his wife,
A teenager in another one,
Watches a romedy film,
Wishing for a rosy life.
And the wife thinks,
Life is nothing,
But just a lie,
And we have to survive,
The night.
The night,
That stretches,
This night,
Next night,
Every night,
Till we breathe,
Our last.
Into a new day,
Into a new life.
For more beautiful poems and stories visit her blog at https://shewrites170.wordpress.com/