Space dangles freedom before the tired mind Yet hearts still incarcerate one’s will When desire haunts isolation And longing stifles healing They say to start within But it is in depth that yearning thrives The Empty That is full
Roots of a soulmate To be lost, yet ever claimed undying fealties
Tiny Treasure Corner
Fabulous Linguine with clam sauce by Eileen Slovak. I really hope to try this some day soon.
Ola everyone, The 36th edition of The Saturday Symphony welcomes you to a March of marvels. This is a monthly feature that may one day become an online magazine which showcases its bit of the wordpress community magic (fingers crossed).
The sweet-spot for insomniacs
A hill-top mosque moons a summons to sacred vespers
And an eager rooster ignites a cackle of crows vying for dominance
The insomniac does not hear them
This is their ONE hour
And yet they must rise.
The bedside clock shames the exuberant cockery
and jolts you from the peace that nothingness brings
To make joy from your something
March is a month of changing seasons. The first quarter of the new year is ending. Whether it’s Spring or the wet season, wherever you are, if you allow it, you may feel a shift in the air, the spirit, and your psyche. An opportunity to start anew or boost what’s already started.
I hope Sally forgives me for sharing just one of her jokes to send you to her post: Patient: “Doctor, I get heartburn everytime I eat birthday cake.” Doctor: “Next time….Find out the punchline in Sally’s link.(Sorry I didn’t want to steal the joke)
This section will be for one fellow blogger’s shared lesson every month. I’ll reach out to different people just for a little paragraph, not more than they are willing to share. Since this is new, I’ll say something this month.
Before I diversified from poetry and short stories to fiction novels, I learnt a vital piece of advice which makes writing really cool. ‘Let your characters guide you.’ As you try to follow this advice, you develop a new appreciation for Karma and its mysterious ways. Everyone has their own story. Nothing is black and white, I mean, even black and white are spectrums of colour. In real/tangible life, I wait and listen more often, and I’m genuinely very interested in what people are saying. This has really improved all my relationships. I find more people calling, and opening up about really personal things. I mostly just listen and once in a while, I tell them a story.
Outside life's challenges,
waits a flamboyant beauty
Verdancy that is a tonic for our souls
It dwells in everything
In the fine desert-sand where no two grains are alike
In the morning dew or pouring rain
The floral blooms and butterfly hues.
Or perhaps on the otherside of day
Where one may enjoy a moonlight caress
or savour a star-twinkled kiss,
A place to cry where none can see
To let darkness reclaim your darkness.
So step outside
Into the wild
Trace the alignment
Of beauty to joy.
Book Candy Collage.
This year, I created corners for my wordpress posts. Visitors to my blog may have noticed the Book Candy Corner, Tall Tales Corner, and Tiny Treasure Corner. These three, cycle in turns from post to post. I’ll collage the monthly book-candy in that month’s Symphony, just in case you missed out.
Ponderous Thought Prompt
From today and through the month of April, find any three aspects in nature, relate yourself to each of them, and publish something on that. It can be dark or bright, just have at it.
You can use art, images and any form of writing. Pingback here by pasting this post’s link in your own post, and I’ll visit and feature your works in next month’s Symphony. These features, in time, will get a more creative showcasing (watch this space).
earth divinations must one be Witch or Guru to wake their soul
Sadly, or thankfully, we’ve come to the end of this month’s symphony. Here’s a last recent poem from my twitter:
Echoes of a bedevilled kiss
Have you known the taste of sin
Or the hidden truths in dream-drenched deceits
Have you imagined grace in a silent expanse
Like dances in the eye of dysthymia
Fleeing gawking stares
Someone will see you…
Hope you enjoyed this. I look forward to your ponderous-prompt submissions, which should be posted before the 28th of April.
Calm seas ńeath brewing storms where morals turn agile and perspicacious drifters long for Self
Pity enshrouds the spy the unwitty witness Innocence pays the maiden price World’s Way
Of hope on same wavelengths fickle, is life’s grapevine upon the volatile current Of truth
Our fear Precient ally reveals and then withholds bitter endings, brave beginnings The Call
The You you always tame dewy-eyed explorer wandering through life’s hypnosis The spark
Tall Tales Corner
It is said that ‘art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.’ Or so their picture-perfect family hoped, as they mounted a piece of spring in their livingroom. It was odd that on sunny days, those trees seemed to bleed and a face lurked in the background windows. The patch of sunlight surrounded by shades induced a claustrophobic feeling, like conflict was closing in.
New petals may sing to mask whispers of winter lavender secrets
The teenage daughter, in the first trimester of a problem-pregnancy, saw a little girl waving from those distant windows, longing to play, to climb trees and eat the juicy-red fruit. To her, the painting held hope. The mother, a neighbourhood leader, dreaded what people would say about her daughter, and worse, about her. But the painting made her think of swings in the backyard, and lullabies long abandoned, of a baby’s gay laughter and the way she’d say to people, ‘this is my grandchild.’ She too, smiled at the painting.
big trees, wider shades when night and day seem furthest their likeness deepens
The father, a model gentleman, was a chin-high kind of man. Indeed, he knew himself to be without flaw. And that’s why he’d fought so hard for that painting at auction. The art plunged chaos into order. It was wild, free, and yet the flowers remained flowers, and the trees were still trees. Now that his pride-and-joy son had discarded their christian beliefs for the rainbow movement, and his sweetheart daughter was pregnant in High school, maybe he could find the beauty in his own chaos. His eyes were always drawn to that patch of sunlight. Perhaps it was the light eating away at the shadows.
face in the window judging from winter’s recluse I know you are me
sighs of solitude listen to conflict’s whispers reconciling depths some woes come from good intent rebirths that will never die
In the deep stillness, I ponder scars long etched in my blemishfree beginnings, healed yet forever barren. I ignore the itch of scabs that inflame with the lightest touch or slightest approach; a decay upon my soul. I think of trials past that left behind monuments of fear, conquest, and survival. I cannot change what festers within me. But the most beautiful flowers often bloom from decay.
Soul divinations beneath these troubled guises seeds longing to bloom when dreams and life commingle they know, Growth must beget growth
Book Candy Corner
The Necromancer’s daughter. A retelling of the legend of Kwan-yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy. Set in a winter world of dragons, intrigue, and magic, The Necromancer’s Daughter is a story about duty, defiance, cruelty, and sacrifice— an epic tale of compassion and deep abiding love where good and evil aren’t what they seem. By D. Wallace Peach
Sweet little Mimi Do you remember? Your mind of whimsy
How hearts grew fonder Amorous soul on full display Do you remember?
You ran each day with hood and boot Amorous soul on full display
That same old route Where homeless waited With hood and boot
Their stories sated You begged together Where homeless waited
you always found your hour of wander hood filled with bills, for a story to ponder Sweet little Mimi Mind of Whimsy That old man blessed you with plenty.
Tiny Treasure Corner.
This week our language game is a tautogram, that is a text in which almost all words start with the same letter This week’s letter is the consonant Ⓜ. Here’s mine: May magical memories make my March mornings mild and merry I invite you, if you like, to play with us and write tautograms in your own language. They will be shown here – Tautogramma game from wordsmusicandstories.
Hey Guys, I have tests this weekend so I hope you enjoy this little poem. A tarzanelle is quite complex but very fun. Did it in between revision. Mind’s extra sharp now, hehe.
The death of love’s doctrine Was a pain to behold We watched it fade in our children And wondered what signs we missed What lessons were mistaught For how could a Truth so strong it seemed eternal Wither to dream and fairytale Was it the dawn of self-love Misunderstood by many, though not all Awakening selfish trends Ambitions that overlooked compassion The Self at the expense of the bond For who said one cannot love oneself and still have love to spare for another
They tried to burn those words we hoped would guide them But the flames blew out For the winds of change Would not accept this change Love’s doctrine would survive.
Tall Tales Corner
An antic chandelier
From an age of mystics
Its crystals glisten
with light so soft it feels like starlight
and yet so loud
that when the wind gales
and the crystals chime
their voices wail
So flip that switch with caution
Lest you're trapped stargazing
Or rather, soul-gazing
For in perfection
we find the darkest secrets
Hey Everyone, Happy Women’s day. I don’t really need this day to appreciate women, but I do understand its significance to past achievements and the ongoing struggle for equality and mutual respect. I wrote these poems in the last ten days on my twitter (@JItakali), with no awareness that Women’s day was around the corner.
The lines of prose in bold are just wild ponderings and curiosities.
Beautiful faith That wholesomeness of purpose Soiled by disciples bereft of acceptance Can the universe be contained in one thought and one way If you open your mind You may see that your choice need not be mine
New believer Boots with an evangelist sheen Your way, or the highway.
Each person is unique and they deserve a choice. A choice that should be respected.
She holds him to his word If he tells, she leaves! It’s different for a man He’ll be exalted by peers While she, will be labelled pariah Their secret must bloom in shadow For with hearts already claimed they cherish an affair knowing their love can never be
Isn’t it odd that the harshest critics to polygamous/gypsy women are fellow women?Maybe the men just like an abundance of available women but I’m not sure.
When a loveless existence was the dread of virgin dreamers, death played along a ribcage stairwell, as if poised to reap souls and scythe the hearts of any who chose the lone way. Would we become sheep, Enduring much to adhere to custom? Killing dreams for this love perception
I have nothing against marriage but I hate seeing parents peddle this as a MUST accomplishment in life, often keeping their children, especially girls, in abusive marriages. People, the planet is already full. It’s about time having a family became optional. (this coming from a guy who wants to raise five daughters)
When love teaches by breaking The damsel sharpens her widow-maker and abandons the exuvia of dreams She savours love’s darker proclivities If you Obey She’ll grant your deepest fetish But just like love She blesses for a moment To curse for eternity
Just a bit of horror to highlight the darker powers of the fairer sex – purely entertainment.
Patient as night Soft as a breeze A pacific embrace And Neptunian depths of acceptance All she wants is you The way you are- furrow and crease But deep down you know- She deserves more
her tropical love an evergreen rainforest I’m inadequate
And a bit of the woman’s powers of light – though I think this is changing. Queens want ‘what they desrve.’
On the flipside of pain her hands stroked his dirty pages Arousing the other side She reached into his darkness Tormenting passion’s dead lagoon- with a storm’s caress Her tears fell like freckled rain glimmering with light Their stories mingled Bursting into new beginnings
Book Candy Corner
A collection of short stories where dreams and nightmares co-exist.
Nestled inside these pages, you’ll meet a couple in their golden years who take a trip with an unexpected detour, a boy desperate to give his brother the Christmas gift he asked for, a girl with a small glass dragon who is at the mercy of her cruel uncles, or a young mother who has the same dream about murder. You’ll be introduced to worlds where people get second chances and monsters might be allowed their desires while angels and dragons try to help. Happy endings occur, but perspective can blur the line between good and evil in these twenty-seven tales. Since the stories vary between 99 to 12k words, whether you have only five minutes or an entire evening to settle into reading, there is something that will suit your time and taste.
Hope you enjoy, Happy Women’s day. I’m always writing these short poems on my twitter. Feel free to follow me and engage @JItakali. Looking forward to your thoughts on any or all poems, and how about that Book Candy Corner…
It’s no secret that writing is my dream and I mean to do it for the rest of my life. As I write my debut fantasy trilogy(book 2 coming this May), my subconscious has been thinking about what next.
For Sue in the ether In the heavens In the spirit. We remember you.
As I lined up Caley and Reena’s prompts, I thought about my own art- Writing. So I looked through my old journals dating back to 2013 and behold: I found my next projects.
Acknowledge the great creator’s role in your creativity. And use those gifts.
I was so excited to find that even then I’d made somewhat meticulous notes on how to write these books; the characters, themes, settings, plotlines, even handwritten 1st chapters for all three books.
The Universe is always conspiring to help us. We just need to ask. And the best way to ask is by beginning.
I didn’t have a blog ten years ago, didn’t even know that what I was writing in my journals was poetry and prose. I couldn’t have pulled off those projects then. But now and in the future as I learn and manifest, I think, I hope, I believe I can do them justice. The ideas are amazing(for me at least). I see them from much closer, like my nineteen year old self has passed me the baton, except I’m now much fitter and I know how to get to the finish line.
There is no patent on creating At its heart, it’s freedom. Soothing Empowering
If we have the nerve to look, we can see in any face, our own vulnerability.
I hope sharing these encourages anybody else who is waiting to start. Do it for your inner child. Also, I hope to get subscribers for my publications, lol.
Writing projects for the near future
May 2023 – Realms of the Mist Book 2
November/December 2023 – Poetry book linked to mentalhealth
Autumn 2024 – Final Book 3 Realms of the Mist.
Middle/Long term projects
Most details here are tightly under wraps for now. Tentative titles. My 19year-old-self had a real talent for blurbs and synopsis(es), a talent I seem to have lost.
Surrensville – A paranormal mystery (novel or series with a touch of the occult)
Imagine Endless Things – Literary fiction (‘The play of the century.’ I used to love theatre. Definitely a stand alone novel)
Bestowed – Detective horror (stand alone novel)
Poetry will always be in between the novels, where I’ll hope to share personal reflections and any wisdom and experiences I pick/have picked up.
May the universe accept these dreams, because I already have.
What moves people to genius, or rather what inspires their work, is not new ideas, but their obsession with the idea that what has already been said is still not enough.
Today’s Tiny Treasure
Women the epitome
Of inherent strength
Shoulders the burden
Carries the entire weight
Of the family she helps raise
There are so many faces of her
Each in its own way perfect...
When she bleeds, she bleeds in Technicolour by Sadje.
I’m sharing a lot of personal things of late. Maybe that’s the universe pushing me to finally ask that girl out, lol.
I hope to post some poetry and prose for Women’s day tomorrow.
Hey everyone, I’m bursting with good news. I finally dispatched the beta copies of Book2 in the Realms of the Mist trilogy. (Title and cover coming very soon).
My eyes welled up as I glossed those famous last words in an intricate font: “The End.” Guys, I don’t know how to describe the happiness and accomplishment I felt. I whooped and jumped and gave my laptop a giant KISS.
Now I can wait for Beta feedback as I concentrate on the promo campaign. I can catch up with courework which I’m sure I’ll ace. Trust me, there’s no coursework that can compare to even writing one chapter of a book.
All that’s left after the Beta feedback is a final copy-edit for the little bits that escaped my own personal edit. I would have been practically alone in my author dream but for a number of remarkable people from the wordpress community, who have given me invaluable guidance and encouragement. THANK YOU. It only gets better from here.
Okay, enough about me. Here’s some poetry for you.
Rising or setting The bliss is the same Between then and next It’s the now we cherish So here in this moment Nothing is truer Than this love
The world may change us. Misplaced deeds or words may incubate hate. Thank God our love is bound in nostalgia. #TWT
Tall Tales Corner
Between forsaken lines
dwell cocktails of musings
He writes a heart that stings
The spice of life
Of cinammon romance
And currie betrayals
Black pepper portrayals
Balance in life
In the bachelor's kitchen
variety is scarce
but potency is terse
Just - what - matters
Hope you enjoy.
I feel I should apologise for always joining prompts but I post once or twice a week and I have so many favourites.
Hey everyone, I got permission from Amy of HeavenOn Earth blog to use her amazing nature photos to write this haiku journey. Alongside, are short twenty word stories for Bookish Bubble’s #TWT. Hope you enjoy.
pale sun and cold winds memories in the empty where beauty lingers
Beneath the Vivid, are the secrets of where it all began. For who you have become, there was once nothing.
lost forsaken seed you must fight lonely battles to bloom from the murk
Beneath the Vivid, a story of defiance unfolds. Though the voice cannot be heard, a thought takes root. A dream!
against fell winters comes the test of endurance how bad you want it
Beneath the Vivid, the struggle goes unrewarded. And the one who is something, but not yet that intended thing, despairs.
the first fruits of spring a pittance to thorough-breds Was it all worth it?
Astride the Vivid, you come to a Crossroads: who you want to be, who you are, and who you can become.
twigs on the vine fallen branches do not mourn the room made for growth
Aloft with the Vivid, beauty flocks to beauty. But you were not born this way. You see deeper, further, Beneath the Vivid.
Book Candy Corner
HYPE is a story of survival and resilience and hope.
Cici’s junior year in high school is going to be the best year ever. Popular co-captain of the varsity cheerleading team, she’s dating the starting quarterback. Even her jealous co-captain’s attempts to steal her boyfriend can’t curb her enthusiasm.
When her mom moves in with her fiancé, a handsome, wealthy man, only one small detail threatens Cici’s perfect life. The school’s social pariah is about to become her stepsister, and Cici wants nothing to do with her.
Everything changes when someone Cici cares about throws her life into a tailspin, and the one person Cici couldn’t stand becomes her only ally.
Warning: This story contains scenes of sexual assault. Visit Yvette’s website for more of awesome work: Yvette Calleiro.
Hope you enjoy.
I may have gone overkill with five twenty-word-story submissions for BookBubble, but I’d promised to send one in yesterday, so this is me making up for being late. The prompt word was Vivid, so I made it a major theme and used it a lot, lol. But most importantly, it fit so well with the message arroused by Amy’s Photography.