Here's a tribute from me to you,
Recalling the old pet cockatoo,
His very vivid vocabulary,
Cathartic swearing, so funny,
He rose at dawn, would greet the day,
Sat on perch, screeched away,
Acquired language eagerly,
Nothing polite from that old he,'
Shared his emotions with us all,
Ended each day with his call,
Sleep tight now, so suitable.
Good night, bird beautiful.
I emerge from echoes, from a dungeon so deep,
To erase the ink of inner turmoil you keep.
Thy mollycoddled soul, relegated to bits,
Here's tulsi for the bruises where life's pain sits.
I'm the crucible's fire, shaping an alchemist’s design,
An emotional release, making every space divine.
Some say pain drives art.
Is that how you fell in love with poetry?
Title:
Finding Catharsis
(A lone voice whispers)
Conjuring stanzas
Baptised sanctified with pain
To keep on floating
(575)
(C) Copyright John Duffy
The smooth ink stains bleed a crimson red with each stroke
The pages' colors publish a perilous message against the black granite surface
Black, red, white
Its message is clear
It's time to stop writing
My cathartic heart
threw away the finished leaves of bitter autumn's burning
I brewed myself a loving cup, made sweeter by my learning
tansy, bay with chamomile, bright meadow flowers to sip
tastes better far than poison to be found upon your lip
A dark angel writes in the air,
“There will be no tomorrow for you.”
Then puffs of shiny cloud ebb,
Ebony night surrounds me.
I tremble in fear.
I hover between now and never,
as if I'm traversing a rough river
on one bank: life, on the other: death.
I feel an ebbing of nothingness,
like gulping down bad breath,
or gasping in asphyxia,
between a being and non-being,
sandwiched between heaven and hell.
Which way must I go?
Lord make the right choice for me,
for I tremble in fear.
How oft had I been told,
hell is an illusion, don't believe!
Now it seems like reality and I fear.
I see my past, its rights and wrongs,
a sort of blind imbalance,
not a hair is lost.
Where is the illusion now?
Or worse is it delusion and regret,
that I could have achieved much more?
Thus I tremble in fear.
Spirals of fog surround me,
whirls of fatal mists envelop me,
a long dark tunnel with a faint light ahead.
But what lies at the end?
An ephemeral awakening or an eternal damnation?
What weapons are left for such a fight?
I can only give my soul up and pray:
O Lord, I trust in Thee.
I fear no more.
a mystic poetess in her thought patterns
of iambic heartbeats, makes new rhythms
with a symphony...joy and pain in cadence.
in her confetti of stars moonbeams cadence
caressing love in ivory and ebony patterns
perforated feelings careen melodic rhythms
in her sonnets, words entice in rhythms
lovebird's lyrics drift in endless cadence
cratered lands embellish crystallic patterns
Catharsis traces passionate patterns of rhythms in cadence.
lovers holding hands
melding with a sunset
entwine their identities
until all that is is bliss
how can a poet capture
the sublime effervescence
radiating love’s myriad hues
gently ever becoming the all
ego dissolves that we evolve
soul catharsis in a chrysalis
that that never was dies
taking us to new highs
14-February-2023
before the refreshing wind of night
I unload what's hurting me much
and stay with the suave relief of Porto wine!
there are creatures that sleep
as minerals
dream as vegetables,
wake up as animals
to be as criminal...
Regression in time and space...
Me, by my side
I, what God ordains me
I simply do
so I'll recognize who I am!
White dunes fluttering sands
in the heart delusional disappointments
in my world it was the edge of time
since you left in an april
this and everything on this beach I realize
nothing seduces me anymore....
All this sadness, dead landscape
in this beauty I am less than a grain
Spilling my tears,
drying my inner river
washing my soul inside
This I do when I laugh...
When I laugh with an opened smile
when I clean out sourness
I feel lucky on the outside
and renewed within... !
You stayed in your home
yet not alone, but with others,
and fate did mock at you
and you borrowed a different form.
They locked you in
and often hurt you,
and you fled from hurt
and came here.
First, we concerned;
second, we rebuked you;
and then we, too, hurt you
letting you live as a ghost
in a dark room.
We hated your presence,
and we banished you
to a different place,
seeking sheer relaxation.
One day, we heard of your
tragic death.
We built a gigantic sepulcher for you,
in our guilt-ridden memories.
But, now I remember you………………
Cockroach, Gregary Samsa,
If you lived “normal” in our fairy palace,
I know you would still live with us.
A 3rd Place in Catharsis Poetry Contest judged on Dec. 10, 2020.
Catharsis Poetry Poetry Contest
Silent One
Dec. 6, 2020
Inspiration form a Franz Kafka’s novella, The Metamorphosis
I heard your voice first
while you were sitting behind me
on the second row in grade nine class
The moment I saw you first,
I felt a volcano booming, inside me
I heard you criticize my school,
comparing it with your previous one
and to escape from your grunt
I locked my earlobes.
I told your sister I love my Mom, my School ......
Next day, I saw you alone,
alone – at my Grand Mom’s house
I saw you hide like a mouse……….
a frightened mouse, in a dirty rat hole ….
I still remember what happened
I was in grade nine
We stood with daggers in arms,
and you splattered my white-washed
school walls with a mud-fire
We hated each other as crow and cuckoo do
or cobra and mongoose do,
but our mates stared with mouths agape
at the rising … scarlet castle of love…
in our fiercely fighting battle ground
I dreamed one day a nightmare:
My prince fell dead in the battle front……
I could do nothing………
I dreamed of marrying my first love,
but it remains a living, breathing dream.…
Dec. 5, 2020
Catharsis Poetry Poetry Contest
Contest sponsor: Silent One
Behind the face of the laughing clown
are all my deep emotions found.
He wears my feelings of comic shame,
a nameless face with no value to claim.
Oh, take this pain from inside of me
and make it a joke for all to see.
Pantomime it sadly so....but laugh
leaving their pathos to cover its path.
My life is on your stage of satire.
Mock the steps I quietly require
to cry away the loathsome fear
with gut feelings all clean and clear.
Now you must die my precious clown
die to the audiences’ roar and sound.
I’ve packed you tight with lies and sin
that you showed the world with a simple grin.
Goodbye to my psyche, goodbye to my guilt.
The clown reflected my soul to the hilt.
I’m empty inside for my tears have been shed
not for the clown but for me instead.
12/5/20
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