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Category Archives: Poetry

Run run dark beauty…


horses-sketch

This poem is dedicated to all those who have overcome adversity & climbed higher than humanly possible.
The photo is the sketch of a project I am busy with. Horses are my passion & I might have gotten stuck with this longer than I should for fear of not giving justice to this magnificent animal & the tremendous power exuding from it.
Keep warm! Hope you enjoy the poem. Feedback is always very welcome 🙂

Run run my race horse over the fences, hedges & highest walls, take leaps,
skip over rivers, mane blowing in the winds, undeterred… nothing stopping you.

Run run my stallion,spread the energy, black shining coat glistening under the effort
of raw power. Long gone are your days of uncertainty, battles over frail beginnings.

Run run dark beauty, never be afraid of winning, fly & never turn back, you were a
conqueror at your first faltering steps…

Run run my baby, I will celebrate your victories, as close to my heart,
as bright as the stars, as magical as your existence.

Sleep sleep my foal you’ve earned the miracle of tomorrow!

horses-sketch

Music in raindrops…


Raindrops...

While waiting in the car on a rainy day, words came accompanied by the rhythm of nature…

Pit pat, pit pat raindrops there you
sat
On the borders of my soul, composing music
as you roll.
Comforting bruises new & old, rocking me out
of my mould.
Turning nuisance into charm, when the curtains
are drawn,
Keeping sunshine at bay, eluding the realities
of night & day…

Being u – A letter to my sister…


Being you

Being you

I love you for letting me be me in your presence.
For being able to express my frustration on some concern of mine without it effecting our deep ties.
I love you for being there in the times I celebrate life.
And the ones when I am mad at circumstances…
And as your sister I want you to be aware of the uniqueness of your being.
I want you to bless your presence, your birth and even every second of the lucky person I am to have you in my mornings, evenings, years and days…
I want a whole lot.
I want you to take care of yourself if not for yourself then for me for I cannot imagine my space without you.
I want your joys to be mine. Your laughter to be in synchronization with mine but if it’s not, I will try to erase the shadows of your soul.
I am willing to try alleviate your burden.
Share the tools I stumbled upon by divine providence.
But most of all I feel privileged and honoured to have been given the opportunity of treading the paths together, heart to heart, hand in hand…
This is why I picked up this morning my phone to let you know.
Thank you for being one of the best person I know on this planet.
Thank you for giving so much of you in the eight days I was visiting.
For sharing your time, listening…
For your big generous heart.
For encompassing, embracing all that cross your path.
For showing it.
For the light, the proof that goodness prevails.
For leading quietly without realizing it.
For being.

P.s
My apologies for my absence during a very busy winter until now.
As soon as things quieten down I’ll be back liking & commenting again
promise 🙂

As priceless as your unburdened face


5.8.2015 country long nice walk (62)-1-

Good tidings to someone who really deserved it, is what inspired this poem.

Lips are made for smiles,
Feet tap to the beat of a joyful heart
Ears, capture the vibrations of victory &
Eyes, mirror the reflection of life’s paillette.

Time is now to honour life,
Celebrate & venerate its beauty
Crash through high tides &
Assess the futility of worry.

Be as free as the wriggly faces of a new born
Dare break down the fences of conventions
Walk & skip along frilled narrow lanes
Pick up the struggling caterpillar

Gently helping it down on to the familiarity
Of grass, ITS civilization, escaping
Temporarily the harshness of asphalt.
Those are the biggest triumphs…

And as priceless as your unburdened face.

Don’t forget to check…
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Perfection & life…


Imperfect beauty! ©copyright2015owpp

Imperfect beauty!
©copyright2015owpp

If perfect was the word we would not be waiting.
If it was this world nor would we be swaying…

But if hurt was our daily bread
Would we have soaked,
In that fiery sunset?
Yet it inhabits our homes,
Weaving the baskets of our minds,
Dancing the steps of our lives.
Holding our souls with the satisfaction
that comes with ownership.
Cradling patiently our bruised ego
Teaching us the wisdom of our ephemeral journey.
We glean, gather, stocking it in neat piles
going on, in hesitant faltering steps.
Sun scorched, hail or rain,
Hoping to trick an old parchment,
Letters seared in its thick skin…
——–
Having seen many alike
Wishing a trail filled with
Butterflies & vanishing ambushes…

Reality is a harsh teacher for joy & hurt intermingle.
They are the dough we roll, fashioning our spirit.

Perfect was never the word.
In this world.

A time for every rhyme & a smile for every flop :)


A time to yearn & a time to shine... ©copyright2015owpp

A time to yearn & a time to shine…
©copyright2015owpp

To everything the sun
Turn turn turns
Out of the shadows the moon
Shines bright & yearns

Seasons appear & fade
A time a place
For every matter under space

I have laughed & I have wept
Dark sour & sweet
Gathered shells & stones
Cast away broken bones

I have gained & lost
Bargained & pleaded
Sought & embraced

Only to realise…
There is a time
For every rhyme
A purpose for every weed

A seed for every tear
A castle for every brick
A sea for every drop &…

A smile for every flop 🙂

Fly, fly higher farther… French poem professionally translated to English.


Envol, plus haut plus loin... ©copyright2015owpp

Envol, plus haut plus loin…
©copyright2015owpp

This poem was written after I had read Boileau’s “Oeuvres I Satires, le lutrin”. He was born in 1636 & today, belongs to the French classics. The only word that comes to my mind concerning his style is, magnificent. Discovering it at this time in my life gives me the advantage of grasping & appreciating the genius & depth of this master of literature.
This poem is mostly philosophising about the adventure & thrill of journeys in the mode of transportation we use today (which is mostly airplanes) & its origins.
I wrote this poem in French & as its level is higher than usual I preferred to get the help of a professional translator. I found it extremely difficult to keep its original flavour & twist which can sometimes get lost in search of a word or sentence in another language.
The work was done superbly. For those who are bilingual, you will be able to judge for yourself. The contact information is choshana.b@gmail.com & mobile 00 44 797 056 83 37.
I will first write it in the English version as most of my followers are English speaking. Thank you for the patience of my French speaking followers 🙂

Journeys
=====

Fly, fly higher farther,
On the wings of eclosion,
Belonging in the days of yore,
To the works of the creator,
Always seeking renewal.

Through the freshness of encounters,
Exchanges with obscured or enlightened minds,
Undebased by proximity.
To race the sunny boulevards,
Parenthesis in a frozen winter,
Stroke the bark of a palm tree,
Hear reverberate the spontaneous exclamation
Of a free nation.

Inestimable exchange of ideas, opinions or perspective,
On the magical or tragical universe,
Surrounding an awakened or slumbered eye,
By night glittering with silver sequins,
Softened by benevolent reflection of the guardian,
Of a world recuperating from the commotion & frantic palpitations,
That accompany the rising of a blinding sun.

And if sometimes, changes the bed of the river,
Winding in a turbulent course, compelling
Humble servants of this earth to confront mortality,
Unavoidable path for all terrestrial.
This is at least solaced with the comfort of being home,
Well supported among one’s own.

Fly, fly low, close to the swarm,
Life crackling on the hearth,
Warming your brood from the streets
Blanketed in snow.
Cheating history, availing of these rare

Singular moments of… bliss.

Voyages
=====

Envol, envol, plus haut plus loin,
Sur les ailes de l’éclosion,
Jadis appartenant aux oeuvres du créateur,
Cherchant toujours le renouveau.

A travers la fraicheur des rencontres,
L’échange des esprits obscurcis ou éclairés,
Dont la distance n’avilit point.
Pour courir les boulevards ensoleillés,
Parenthèse d’un hiver glacé,
Caresser l’écorse d’un palmier,
Entendre résonner l’exclamation
D’un peuple en liberté.

Echanges inestimables d’opinions, d’idées ou de perspectives,
Sur l’univers magique ou tragique, qui
Entoure un oeil éveillé ou ensommeillé,
Par une nuit rutilante de paillettes argentées,
Adoucit par le reflet bienveillant, du gardien
D’un monde récupérant du tohu-bohu et palpitations frénétiques,
Qui accompagnent le lever d’un soleil aveuglant.

Et mème si parfois change le lit du fleuve,
Empruntant un parcours chahuté, obligeant
Les humbles serviteurs de cette terre Ă  confronter
La mortalité, Chemin inevitable pour tout terrestre,
C’est au moins avec le réconfort d’être chez soi
Bien Ă©pauler parmis les siens.

Envol, envol tout bas, tout près de l’essaim,
Ta vie crépitant sur l’âtre, réchauffant
Ta nichée des rues enneigées.
Trichant l’histoire, profitant de

ces moments d’aubaine calculés.

A life’s guide… poem by Max Ehrmann Desiderata


Go placidly... remember what peace there may be in silence. This photo is ©copyright2014owpp

Go placidly… remember what peace there may be in silence.
This photo is ©copyright2014owpp

I found this exquisite poem by http://unionhomestead.com/about/ & enjoyed so much its profound & wise message filled with common sense providing guidance for a balanced peaceful & serene life that I had to share it with all my followers 🙂
Have a very good weekend!

“Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favour of fair use.”

Max Ehrmann

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Unadulterated & authentic…modest yet ornate (Pur et authentique … modeste mais ornĂ©)


The beauty of simplicity ©copyright2014owpp

The beauty of simplicity
©copyright2014owpp

I walk and I see
The beauty of simplicity
That one buttercup standing out
Shooting upward among short green grass
Calling out, screaming out for my discernment
I answer in spite of myself and approach as a somnambulist,
Hand stretched out ready to stroke the stem, the petals, gently
Guiding it toward my tool of appreciation, the more I use it on the
Small, the further is its individuality magnified… I close onto its delicacy,
Its silky petals, the brightness of unadulterated yellow, the intricacies of its
Nerve map, the bulge of its heart and discover the secret of purity.

Je marche et je vois
La beauté de la simplicité
Cet unique bouton d’or saillir
Jaillir vers le haut parmi l’herbe
Courte et verte criant, hurlant pour
Mon discernement, je réponds malgré moi
Et approche comme un somnambule, main tendue
Prêt à carresser la tige, les pétales, le guidant
Doucement vers mon outil d’apprĂ©ciation, plus je l’utilise
Sur l’insignifiant, plus est amplifiĂ© son individualitĂ©… je ferme
Sur sa délicatesse, ses pétales soyeux, la luminosité du jaune pur, les subtilités
De sa carte de nerfs, le renflement de son coeur et découvre le secret de la pureté.

Bright & delicate ©copyright2014owpp

Bright & delicate
©copyright2014owpp

Mysterious & comely ©copyright2014owpp

Mysterious & comely
©copyright2014owpp

My pen & paper… my Aeneas


©copyright2014owpp

©copyright2014owpp

After a long absence I take you between my thumb & index
Hoping to continue an interrupted alliance.
In doubtful moments you call, I long…

Words, shapes, phrases, impressions, perceptions, all dance
To my attention but life hollers, its pulse goes on beating,
Its stream resumes its course then, I forget…

I adapt… Until your next signal.

I remember the bond, the relief, sincerity & trust…
Treating you as a living might be ridiculed, to me you are
Most alive, available around the world,

Pristine & unwrinkled you absorb my unpublished, my Arcanum. (1)
Your condition, that I come along provided with ink & scratch
The cavities of my brain.

I will always be thirsty for more so, after a long or short lapse
Count me among your unwavering, your fidus Achates. (2)
My pen & paper, my Aeneas. (3)

P.S This poem was written far back in 1991 then I adjusted it in 2013 & today I readjusted it again!
hope you’ll like it 🙂

(1) Arcanum

A deep secret, a mystery

(2) Fidus Achates

A faithful friend or companion

(3) Aeneas

n. Greek & Roman Mythology
The Trojan hero of Virgil’s epic poem, the Aeneid, and son of Anchises and Aphrodite. He escaped the sack of Troy and wandered for seven years before settling in Italy.