Month: March 2017 (page 2 of 2)

Drifting Contemplations: Winter & Blue (Elfchen poetry)

I find poetry with rules challenging…I was challenged to write for an Elfchen.
Elfchen is a type of poem consisting of eleven words in a specific format of words per line:
Row 1: one word
Row 2: two words
Row 3: three words
Row 4: four words and
Row 5: one word.

Elf is the German word for eleven. Adding –chen to a noun in German gives it a sense of being wee or dear. The word Elfchen (always capitalized, as are all German nouns) translated into English is roughly elevenie.
Eleven word poem again doesn’t mean that you write a quote with eleven words and split it in five lines, every line should have a meaning and should stand for itself.


Blue…
sinking depths…
choked other colours…
fog surrounds my mind…
lost

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017


Winter…
snow descends…
purity and death…
sublime and angelic juxtaposition…
transfixing

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017
All images and content copyright 2017
All right reserved.

picture courtesy: pixabay.com

To read another post on another form of poetry please click here. Thank you.
I hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you for stopping by and please leave a comment because my website is self-hosted I don’t have the regular features where you can just like my poem, most appreciate your time.

Rêve Blanc (poem)

Winter’s come and gone and I still haven’t put up anything about it on the blog yet, so, here is my first winter poem of the year, `Rêve Blanc’ meaning `White Dream’, isn’t blanc snow in winter like a dream, all consuming and memerising, like an endless sheet spread over the scenery to make the ugly and unchaste look beautiful and pure…


a dream white
spreads from the lands to the skies…
it’s dazzling mystery
has engulfed me…
I can’t see beyond
cannot turn around…
the magic initially soft
then surrounds and makes a fossil of your heart…
there’s music in the way it moves
and that is the music I find my mind dancing to…
getting over it’s spell is an arduous task
my heart beats violently at it’s art…
just it’s name and shivers run down my spine
it’s flawless vulnerable beauty is sublime…
I have this insane urge to bury myself under it
I close my eyes and I find myself drifting…
in this hypnotized state
where I’m unsure if I’m asleep or awake…
each night I walk in the mist that comes with it
looking for and walking in…
the white dream

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017
All images and content copyright 2017
All right reserved.

picture courtesy: pixabay.com

To read another poem on something that is equally mesmerising, the moon, kindly click here. Thank you.
I hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you for stopping by and please leave a comment because my website is self-hosted I don’t have the regular features where you can just like my poem, most appreciate your time.

Drifting Contemplations: My Poetry (micropoetry)

If I’m asked what poetry is to me I would have no answer, I could write and have written poems on what poetry is but I still find myself stumbling across notions and words to say anything, if one thinks about a new idea to write a poem every minute of the day will you call it obsession or passion?
I call it desperation, because there are a million poets writing a million poems in a day so if an idea is out I cannot write for it anymore because that would mean copying and I don’t do that, I have at least a hundred poems in my drafts and I’m scared to death that if I delay putting them out there for all to read there will be someone else with that idea in their head and I will have to give up posting it as mine if I don’t post it first, in the past I’ve had to let go of two micro-poems because a fellow poet had already posted something on those lines, so that has now come to become my life, constantly trying to come up with something that no one has written but this is about micro-poems, of course there are long poems where we repeat lines but I try my best to bring something new to the reader’s mind, I mean how many times can one read about stars in eyes right?
They say we are in a golden age, networking wise, but I find it more a bane than a boon, at least to a poet, all ideas and lines are out there hovering in web-space and I have to break my head over what to write which is new and not recycled and refreshingly different for the reader, it is a task, so of course I am thinking about it all the time, to sum it up I’ll say that poetry to me is my baby of which I want to be proud so I go about my work with integrity and I am very desperate, desperate for new ideas, for new lines and desperate to be the first to come up with a refreshingly different take on a million year old topic `love’ …
the following micro-poems are about what poetry is to me, my night sky and my oozing wound, I truly do wonder if my vulnerability can give birth to my poetry then my strength can do wonders, but like they say, a poet exploits everything, maybe I’m just exploiting every experience, mine and other’s, well, I should right?


My vulnerability
has birthed
the night sky…
unfathomable then
what my strength
can originate…

**artwork by the very talented S.I.N.A’S. D.O.O.D.L.E.S do check this artist’s page for inspiration.

©Seema Tabassum 2017
©lifeshues.org 2017
All content and images copyright 2017
All rights reserved.


I bleed love…
and they call it poetry

**artwork by me, but the idea was from an illustration I came across on Pinterest.

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016
All content and images copyright 2016
All rights reserved.

To read another poem on `Poetry’ kindly click here. Thank you.
I hope you enjoy reading.Thank you for stopping by and please leave a comment because my website is self-hosted I don’t have the regular features where you can just like my poem, most appreciate your time.

Drifting Contemplations: Motivation #3 (micropoetry)

Today is World Poetry Day and here I am celebrating in seclusion…and I’m going to say something that’s been bothering me for ages now, in the spirit of World Poetry Day of course…
If you know me you know that I write about love and heartache, not really motivational stuff and I hate that people need less of art and more of literary serotonin…
I always wonder when poets write quotes on motivation and not poetry and when people lap up those quotes like starved babies, I wonder if our lives are so fucked up that we need to read a quote to help us get out of bed and go about the day…
Of course I too have these times where I need to slide under my skin and use it as blanket and cover my eyes and not speak a word or do anything just breathe if it’s feasible that is but then if you have a kid who needs to be fed and attended to, you cannot even just be…what serves as motivation to me is reading some great poetry, I read and I want to buck up, want to write something better than that and it serves me well…
I feel so full of shit when I write motivational quotes, that’s not me, needless to say I feel equally disgusted when I read `poets’ write motivational quotes, isn’t it the job of motivational speakers to do that…
`the sun is shining, look’, `today is a new day’, `we get only one life’, `you are beautiful, most perfect, accept yourself’ and one that is most used is the famous quote by Carrie Fisher `take your broken heart and make it into art’ you won’t believe how many times this quote must’ve been twisted and published like it was something original, also Rumi’s famous quote `the wound is the place where light enters you’ has been recycled a billion times by many `poets’, I find the audacity admirable…
and yet here I’m sharing two quotes hopefully motivating enough for you, sometimes I feel the need to sell what’s in demand just like how I sell heartache…

Oh yes, I have to say that I am currently on a social networking hiatus, I feel the need to shut everybody out, not interact, just stay away from all the noises that fill my brain, I feel lost in those voices, I feel the need to meet myself and that need is so strong that I can’t bear another sound, I have always been like this, I need to know me from time to time for me is always changing, evolving…
I was not even going to put something here but today being World Poetry Day and also because I had a beautiful time with Abbu(my son), ate refreshing and delicious sandwiches with homemade cottage cheese and homemade potato and garlic mayonnaise(homemade means something I made from scratch) and washed it down with mint tea and cardamom tea and after a long time I felt like myself. I love cooking and cleaning dishes is therapy to me and the house too but when I am writing about three poems a day and reading a hundred home gets neglected and that makes me guilty and that makes me depressed, to not be able to run the house in an organised manner is the biggest reason for the blues to dawn on me and I should be doing something about it, for now I felt like posting this six month old post which was gathering dust in the drafts, I guess it’s time to see light has come and I’m feeling like my time will be here soon when I’ll be breathing easy and living fully and it gets easier because it is summer, yay… I love summer, I love summer, I love summer…

mot3b
The fire that is
burning in you…
devouring you…
making you restless…
use it…
use it as fuel
to move forward…

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016

mot3ab
Dreams beckon me
call my name…
ask me to chase them…
the vision propels me
I’m running unabashedly…
stepping back is not an option

©Seema Tabassum 2016
©lifeshues.org 2016
All content and images 2016
All rights reserved.

picture courtesy : unsplash.com

To read another post on Motivation, kindly click here. Thank you.

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