Pete Ak
12-04-2012, 11:29 AM
Hello, peace and respect to you all. This is my debut on this site, having spent 2/3 hours just reading around I am delighted and impressed with the quality here. I'll follow advice and submit 3 poems but all here in the same thread - I usually introduce myself with "I Write" (for pretty obvious reasons); the other two I've selected are "I'm Gonna be Famous, I Am" a piece of light, comic verse and "The Madeleine Moment" which is, for me, almost experimental - please try and access the video either before, during or after reading it and the sense will hopefully emerge.
I Write
http://pakinwunmi.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/african_man_writing.jpg
I wonder why, I sit and try
To write words;
That feel the world;
Reveal my world,
Conceal my world?
-
I wonder where these rhymes will go.
When they collide with what you know?
And what you feel.
I wonder if the words I scrawl
Intrigue, enrapt, inspire, enthrall
Elucidate, attenuate or heal?
-
I write; I descend
Into the cold chasm of solitude
Hurling words into the dark
Waiting for echoes and the attitude
Of wild creative delight,
As from a single star on a misty night.
Then angels whisper rhymes in my head
Whilst the devil is shrieking curses instead
And the swirl and rhythm of all those words
Tangle and grapple with my passions and hurts
So I launch myself into the infinite
Both to mask and unveil the universe.
So, if you catch me sleeping with a pencil in my hand,
Don’t wake me, I’ll be writing my dreams and plans.
]I’m Gonna be Famous, I am.[/B]
I’m gonna to be famous I am.
I’ve got it all sorted,
Gathered all the resources
required for my master plan.
No question how I’ll do it
Everyone knows I’m a poet
So when the popularity of poetry surges
All us light-shining poets will emerge as
Prophets with such clarity of vision
And ways of speakin
That we elucidate and entertain
At the same time.
My poetic solutions
To political problems
Will not only work – they’ll rhyme.
The Madeleine Moment *
This piece is my attempt to use art to capture one of the most delightful moments I’ve ever seen on film. The reading of this poem MUST include watching the video link – it is not an embellishment – it is an integral part of it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTzTt1VnHRM
He emerged into black silence, unlit by the melody of babble and jabber.
Lips mouthed smilingly, and a universe away affectionate eyes matched the crescent.
Yet the images engendered from this gentle, sinister quiescence
Burdened his innocent reveries until they hung as heavy as dark matter.
-
White coats fluttered and busied noiselessly.
Machines, their dials awhirr with sharp moving traces
Vibrated their songs and rhythms to multitudes of faces.
As the quietude gathered around him ever more suffocatingly.
-
Heartbeats, unheard yet close enough to touch, whisper tender tales.
Loving stories bathed in decorative condolence, hum melifluously through him
Til the rhythm of those fables encourage different feeling
And the crescent is now ephemeral; uncertainty infects then prevails.
-
Another unsettling day – the story-telling pulse tattoos stories new.
It pumps with hope and expectation which his ignorant, silent world cannot interpret
So he knows not what to wish for other than something that will reverberate
in his essence, and be consistent with his brooding, ruthless view.
-
Eight months old and Jonathan emerges from sleep, unsure if he’s still in the same world
So he snuggles to get as close to the heartbeat as are lips when sealed in silent prayer.
Something enters – him – ears – mind – body and spirit – respond to movement in the air
And his ‘Madeleine moment’ occurs with the first words he ever heard.
-
(* I must admit to stretching the definition of ‘Madeleine Moment’ beyond that originally described Marcel Proust!)
I Write
http://pakinwunmi.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/african_man_writing.jpg
I wonder why, I sit and try
To write words;
That feel the world;
Reveal my world,
Conceal my world?
-
I wonder where these rhymes will go.
When they collide with what you know?
And what you feel.
I wonder if the words I scrawl
Intrigue, enrapt, inspire, enthrall
Elucidate, attenuate or heal?
-
I write; I descend
Into the cold chasm of solitude
Hurling words into the dark
Waiting for echoes and the attitude
Of wild creative delight,
As from a single star on a misty night.
Then angels whisper rhymes in my head
Whilst the devil is shrieking curses instead
And the swirl and rhythm of all those words
Tangle and grapple with my passions and hurts
So I launch myself into the infinite
Both to mask and unveil the universe.
So, if you catch me sleeping with a pencil in my hand,
Don’t wake me, I’ll be writing my dreams and plans.
]I’m Gonna be Famous, I am.[/B]
I’m gonna to be famous I am.
I’ve got it all sorted,
Gathered all the resources
required for my master plan.
No question how I’ll do it
Everyone knows I’m a poet
So when the popularity of poetry surges
All us light-shining poets will emerge as
Prophets with such clarity of vision
And ways of speakin
That we elucidate and entertain
At the same time.
My poetic solutions
To political problems
Will not only work – they’ll rhyme.
The Madeleine Moment *
This piece is my attempt to use art to capture one of the most delightful moments I’ve ever seen on film. The reading of this poem MUST include watching the video link – it is not an embellishment – it is an integral part of it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTzTt1VnHRM
He emerged into black silence, unlit by the melody of babble and jabber.
Lips mouthed smilingly, and a universe away affectionate eyes matched the crescent.
Yet the images engendered from this gentle, sinister quiescence
Burdened his innocent reveries until they hung as heavy as dark matter.
-
White coats fluttered and busied noiselessly.
Machines, their dials awhirr with sharp moving traces
Vibrated their songs and rhythms to multitudes of faces.
As the quietude gathered around him ever more suffocatingly.
-
Heartbeats, unheard yet close enough to touch, whisper tender tales.
Loving stories bathed in decorative condolence, hum melifluously through him
Til the rhythm of those fables encourage different feeling
And the crescent is now ephemeral; uncertainty infects then prevails.
-
Another unsettling day – the story-telling pulse tattoos stories new.
It pumps with hope and expectation which his ignorant, silent world cannot interpret
So he knows not what to wish for other than something that will reverberate
in his essence, and be consistent with his brooding, ruthless view.
-
Eight months old and Jonathan emerges from sleep, unsure if he’s still in the same world
So he snuggles to get as close to the heartbeat as are lips when sealed in silent prayer.
Something enters – him – ears – mind – body and spirit – respond to movement in the air
And his ‘Madeleine moment’ occurs with the first words he ever heard.
-
(* I must admit to stretching the definition of ‘Madeleine Moment’ beyond that originally described Marcel Proust!)