What a strange time this is A part of me is holding back tears The world is a chaotic mess and has come Face to face with its most appalling fears
While the world fights a war collectively Seeking to somehow prolong the peace I’m left halfway nursing the notions of fleeing to a place In my mind where this endless war has ceased
I breathe, wait and hope praying for calmness Trying to discard the feeling of emptiness inside me I am terrified of the consequences of this mayhem And what the end of all this could be
Excruciating painful images of a distorted tomorrow Make me cower and from myself hide Call me wind if you do please know that’s again I am Thoroughly shaken and to my core petrified
This is a poem seeking love and compassion Asking us to work unitedly towards a common goal If we focus all our energies against this creation of war Maybe the future will thank us for having saved many souls
A lump in throat, miseries of heart Dribbled to soak the carved wood pulp, Scars filled with ambers of tree I'm shattered like Auburn leaves!! Wrinkled bark counting since ages The mahems of infinite piled up like, Heaps of tawny foliage!
A resilient Zephyr Swayed me from dawn to day Wiping out the dew drops of turmoil! Giggling the misogyny of sunrays Engulfing the chills of peace again, The melody in eyes, Danced on the beats of ukulele!!
The buds lost in the valley of thoughts The mayhems of life, and the serenity of minds, Too shall pass like the monsoon night! Steadfastness is just a illusion Which doesn't go with the attributes of time!!
I can hear the thunder of your winds, Bolting footsteps, Gusting destruction towards my heart, I know the voice of your anger, You are far from a stranger to my mind.
The lighting in your eyes, Pierces so bright As to cause darkness To my soul inside, The only gleam of sunlight that I can see, Is the reflection of angel wings, As they fall to the ground.
Your malicious waves, Ramped and rave, Tempting to torture turmoil Through my soul, They gnash and attack, Trying to drown out my last breath, So that my spirit is no more.
I know you by name, Mayhem, As you have planted The seed of poverty In the earth from which I was born, From my very first cry, I have called you Hunger, My voice echoing, Yet unanswered from the barren soil.
I have called you by the Name of Hatred, I have called you by the Name of Violence, and the Name of War, I screamed out to you In agony and pain, As the gunshots ripped Through my husband’s heart, Leaving me a widow, Without a father for my child.
I called you by The Name of Defeat When you chained my feet, So that my dreams felt Impossible in my soul, I heard your laughter As I fell in shame, Bleeding ankles, Trying to rise above The oppression in this world.
I called you by the Name Temptation, As you tried to bring down nations, Through the greed from our hearts, You fought to take the power From the Almighty And divide us, Although God is The Father to us all.
Mayhem, you searched for me, In the dark and in the light, Trying to shadow my heart, You were the crying heartbreak To my song of love, You were the darkness to my joy, You were the emptiness to my soul, And the chaos to my life, You were the struggle, The deceiver, The strife.
Yet, there were many times, That I didn’t call your name, In the silence of my own prayers, Because I am a child of God, With confidence in His love, With the strength of faith To rise above, All the imperfect scars You left upon my heart.
WILD WOMEN, WOLVES, AND THE MOON: Dispelling the Myths About the Modern Woman. by Carolyn Glackin Here's the deal folks, I'm all for romance and glamour but I'm also somewhat of a practical realist. I need to clear up a certain matter before expectations start getting way out of control. Assuming you're a reader of poetry (assumed because you're on Mirakee), I'm sure you've noticed the way that modern poets are depicting women of today. To hear it told, we spend every moment of our spare time running wild and free under the full moon, decked out in a fabulous flowing gown, long hair dancing in the wind behind us, while surrounded by a pack of wolves. Anybody done that lately?! Does that even sound safe to any of you?!! I'm not even referring to the wolves just yet, I'm talking about running around in the woods with a billowing dress and long hair flowing all over the place! The hair's gonna get caught up in branches and the dress is gonna get torn to shreds by all manner of whatever the heck's growing on the floor of a forest and/or the pack of wolves! I mean, if the poets want to depict us that way, can we at least be wearing some work boots and a pair of coveralls? Maybe a clip for the flowing hair too... Alright listen, I'm not looking to get on anyone's bad list. It's a fun idea and all and I'm glad that women get to be wild and free instead of stuck in the kitchen or ironing in the laundry room or whatever; but I feel that it's my duty to reveal a perhaps truer version of today's modern woman. So, here's what you're likely to see if you show up unannounced at my house, full moon or no full moon: a tired woman with unkempt hair wearing a comfy pair of pajama pants and an ancient hoodie, sitting on her bed surrounded by more cats than any one household should possess, munching on loud, crunchy, messy snacks from several half-eaten bags around her. The wild and free part's legit. No argument there. To sum things up, I'll say this: women of today can be exactly three things: WHATEVER. WE. WANT. And we're getting pretty good at it!! So, that's the real deal my friends. As told by Yours Truly. Copyright Carolyn Glackin 2016
blinganshuOkay this tells me that I am not much of a reader because I haven't ever read such poetry. I have read a bunch of werewolf novels though and I totally agree with what you have written. Enjoyed reading it.
lovenotes_from_carolyn@blinganshu Thank you so much for your generosity and kindness! This piece was actually a blog post from my old Wordpress account. Essentially, I was pointing out the ridiculous way that women are often depicted in poetry and the images chosen to portray the poems. All in good fun, of course! And thank you again.
P.S. I haven't been available for the past few days; but when I have some free time, I'll look forward to reading some of your work.