Distractions of the Heart (from Emotions in Eruption)

Poetry 1

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This is my take on relationships and their often-volatile natures. In this poem I guess the romantic in me, surfaces but finds itself in constant battle with reality because love is too often a rocky road for many of us. It would be wonderful if that were not the case, but it is not always easy to have faith and trust in another human being. As much as I would love a happy ending like everyone else the truth is relationships are dependent on our behaviour and that of others. Sometimes it meshes and sometimes. I think that is why my romance is more about the relationship than the falling in love. The falling in love is easy, the maintenance so much harder but the heart seeks the distraction and who knows it may just be all that our romantic heart desires.

Distractions of the Heart

 Abandonment of all those dreams,

concentration instead on schemes.

Forget the longing and heart-felt yearning,

the future beckons and the wheels are turning.

But I whisper to the wind distracted,

maybe this time I will not be compacted.

Liar, Liar, inside your mind you shout,

this is not the end of the drought.

You are hoping,

you are moping,

you are not ready for another coping.

 

This time it will be different,

you are not swimming against the current.

You came to this with some insight,

you fought a brave and gallant fight.

But I whisper to the wind in sweet rapture,

will loving slowly prevent the fracture?

Liar, Liar, inside your mind you shout,

do not go there and forget to doubt.

You are running,

he is cunning,

you are not ready for another gunning.

 

What do I do then with this Distraction?

Do I turn away from the Attraction?

And so, I do my whispering to the wind,

And hope with all my heart this time he will not rescind.

I am a fool to make this admission.

I cannot help myself, I want remission.

 

Chris original finish 1

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The world in colour by The Human Hand.

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Writing poetry just happened. I didn’t intend it and I don’t even know if I am good at it. There is a chance I could suck completely. Despite this I keep going. Ideas seem to spring up out of nowhere and scream at me, demanding their release. So many experiences in my life have left their mark. This is what happens, we are affected and it leaves an effect on the way we think and behave. However most of us don’t get the opportunity to express our feelings and reactions. Words are a way of getting it out to have a closer look but at the same time words help us maintain a distance, and this distance helps us understand ourselves better.

While writing my first poetry book Emotions in Eruption I became fascinated with colours and the way everything around us has its very own signature shade. An artist makes it his or her business to capture this on canvas, or computer or whatever medium they choose to work with. Nature just lets it happen. It blends and mixes and blends and mixes some more creating constantly, keeping us on our toes if we stop to consider.

I was going through a difficult period and living in an environment that stifled even the very ability to breathe. To escape I found myself caught up in the world in front of me. It saved my life, gave me focus and reminded me that beauty, natural and everywhere around us, is a reason to survive. Emotions in Evolution sprang into being. I delved into the meaning of colours, of plants and discovered nature gives a new start, refills the empty glass.

The book does have other pieces of work including free verse debating life’s problems both individually and universally. People can also bring us those same joys but sometimes we need to see around us without that emotional human tug. Nature and its colours call to us, represent safe emotions, and give us time to reflect. Sunshine yellow or the moodiness of black. and all the in-between grab our attention, make us stop and think, and that is a marvellous thing because we pass it on to those that matter.

I wrote this to remind me about the difference between nature and the human.

 The Human hand

We take a tube

and squeeze

using long thin greedy fingers.

A fisted curiosity lingers.

Rainbow colours grow by our hand

yet if we chance to step away

and just peruse the land

we see that nature has every day

shown us a better blend

to seize.

We watch

and reflect.

Where the brush had our digits curl

now slowly we choose to unfurl.

We copy what is already there,

opening our eyes wide, to see.

We comprehend our gathered fare

as nature bestows the treasured key

and kindly allows us

the grand, the very full effect.

 

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Flavours of Italy

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Tivoli Gardens, Rome

When I got side-tracked by poetry, I wondered what the heck I was doing. I went with it and it surprised me. Not so much in the first book, but certainly in the second because the choice of topic wove itself into the novel series. It felt right and then it slowly dawned on me that maybe it did make sense. The Unexpected Series was inspired by my heritage and by the time I spent travelling. I love Italy and all the wonderful places on offer. Now I was writing about it.

My first poetry book Emotions in Eruption was mostly free style but in Emotions in Evolution I allowed my passion for the haiku to flourish. It hasn’t been easy to work with. Haiku requires discipline and I lack this. It has a condensation of words. My mind struggles with that concept. Yet I know the haiku and the places my characters will visit in Unexpected Obsession Book 1, and the books to follow, fit together, at least in my head if nowhere else. The history of Italy is held lovingly in the architecture and countryside, and in the customs and traditions. Words would never be enough to describe the beauty so perhaps less is really more. It is the essence that matters, the feeling evoked that counts.I hope you like my attempts, done with love in my heart.

I have chosen a few haiku I wrote with Italy in mind and taken the scary liberty of recording them. Too many years teaching have taken a toll on my voice but it fun to try. For visuals I included my pintrest link to The Unexpected Series. My board also holds a collection of images from other countries but I thought you might enjoy the variety. If you have never been to Italy, go. If you are going, take me with you.

Roman Hills cry and whisper timeless tears
 of history

 

dark Gothic remains
Renaissance and Byzantine flavours

 

travellers return to the golden isle
Sicilian sun

Until la prossima

Barb

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Calling all poets

Chris original finish 1

The last two months have been a little more exciting for me than normal. I have revised my poetry book Emotions in Eruption with a new cover and a little tightening up in the format because with self-publishing authors have that possibility.

Chris original finish green 1 AmazonI have also been working hard to produce a poetry sibling. This is an edit breath and fervent hope away. The plan is for the new book, Emotions in Evolution, to be a birthday present to myself. No pressure except for that little bit that says this all has to happen before the end of October.

Meanwhile I am constantly being asked why this interest in poetry. Where did this obsession come from? Trust me, it is an obsession. What about, I am also asked, the second novel Unexpected Passion in The Unexpected Series? Surely playing with poetry is a distraction from the novel series? Does poetry sell? Is it a good idea to be split between two genres, three if I include the blogging? Lots of questions and they are all valid.

Poetry tends to scare a lot of people.  As a teacher I often hear moans and groans as soon as the “P” word rears its pretty head, and well before the chosen piece of work is presented to students. Without any idea of poet or topic many choose to recoil and adopt a negative attitude, and it saddens me because this beautiful form is the ideal storyteller.

I’m not here to win you over but I am going to tell you why I write poetry. A recent article featuring Liam Cross clarified the fascination I feel, the draw or pull to the medium, and the satisfaction each time one piece is completed. His philosophy is simple. He believes, and it makes perfect sense, that the “more genres and styles we write in, the more we try out and learn about, the more developed we become as writers. And sticking with this theory, I believe there’s a very distinct benefit to be had from writing poetry, in terms of your capacity to construct a beautiful and gripping novel-length piece of writing.

Poetry is so expressive, and the rules so easily broken. How can we not love it? Being creative is so much simpler and the choice of subjects endless. My first book is pretty much free style, although I try to adhere to rhyme and rhythm in some and certainly, I try to add poetic devices where I can. Why not? Similes, metaphors, alliteration and even repetition are beautiful things to work with. And then, there is irony, humour and the vivid images inspired by the five senses. Yes, of course these things are a major part of writing. However, in poetry the size is limited and so we breathe easier when choosing those pesky and incredible words we are about to manipulate into voicing what we want the world to know.

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERAIn Emotions in Evolution I gathered my courage and tried to be innovative. I mixed my styles and experimented with haiku and the cinquain. Both offer an immensely satisfying opportunity to say a lot with a little, and between researching and playing with structure, both forms also offered a lot of fun. In the future I intend to experiment further because I am addicted to story telling in this way.

I am not a quiet person. I can say too much at times and the discipline poetry affords me has given me pause to think, and then apply that thought to things before me, and in this way see them more clearly. Haiku and cinquain take all this a step further in my second book, and deal with colour, with nature and with travel to tie in my contemporary romance. I feature Sicily and Sydney, an important part of the setting in Unexpected Obsession, and I also feature many of the places my characters will travel to and enjoy.

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Will this earn me a living? Probably not. Success is measured as much in satisfaction as it can be in monetary terms. I am very happy joining the hundreds and thousands of writers out there that story-tell following their own rules, and choosing their very own topics, and not fearing to tell the story that needs to be told in as few words as they decide. However if you are game and want to try my work then follow the link below to Emotions in Eruption and don’t be afraid to comment on my covers.

 

Until next time

Barb

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Should I, should you?

I think one of the most difficult things we face these days is deciding on things.  We have too many choices, our kids have too many choices and I have to wonder if we are sacrificing quality thinking for what we think of as freedom of choice.  We are too quick to say no, or too quick to move onto something new because we think we have tried enough already, too quick too rail against the inequality of life and give up completely. Sometimes we just have to suck it up buttercup.

Decision making

Decision Making

 

I don’t want to.

Instead

I feel the urge to

rant and rave.

I know I have to.

Instead

I feel the urge to

quietly cave.

I’ve been dealt a card.

It’s far too hard.

I close my eyes

and hope

I wake up wise.

I have seen the echoed smile

reflected in, a happiness file.

I carefully remove all the shiny blades

sighing as the anger fades.

 

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Alla prossima

Barb

Addictive Patterns

As an English teacher I find poetry the hardest to teach. It is so subjective and there is never a correct answer so often students struggle with meaning and concepts.  I have the same problem with what I write.  I am never sure where the words come from.  I just know they need voicing.  Will they resonate? I don’t know but feel free to offer an opinion.  I would love it.

 

addictive patterns

Addictive Patterns

 

Desires circle in the

mind, that void of brainless

thought, never learning until

the ending is confused

and so the starting line

is never crossed.

Days cycling by like

metres and metres of environmental

sameness, never ending until

the beginning is confused

and so the finishing line

is never reached.

Fragile heart now,

Pieces of glass.

Splintered.

Shattered

and thrown in

so many directions that

the home is displaced and

both beginning and ending

have co-inhabited and

there is no place to go.

No beginning – you no longer dare.

No ending – you were never there.

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Alla prossima

Barb

Spring blossoms

pink hibiscusI have always been entranced by the changing seasons and the beauty they bring.  I grew up close to Centennial Park in Sydney and my parents would often take us there on a Sunday.  We would play  and they would spend the hours bent over, handkerchief on head and small knife in hand collecting what appeared to be weeds, at least by Aussie standards. Italians would boil, strain, chop and make omelettes to grace the sandwiches for offspring lunches.

How sad that said offspring, both of them (and their cousins), would throw the sandwich away embarrassed by the green threads hanging from sliced, home-baked bread and stare longingly at Vegemite or peanut butter on store-bought white.

Oh well, we did enjoy watching things bloom especially the hibiscus, and we did manage to find the occasional blackberries.  I hope they were blackberries and edible but I am alive to tell the tale and I have learnt to appreciate the finer cuisines in life, and thankfully my offspring have not repeated mistakes best forgotten.

Roots, more than one Pretty blossoms to be
Adored with pleasure
Drawn, pulled from the deepest
Part of the earth to grow
To prove beauty is really
From within for are not
The trunks and branch ugly in the
Winter frozen chill.
Delicate, the softest of colour
Combinations, barely there
And yet such a bold fashion
Statement to represent the coming of
A new season,
a new beginning.
I wish we could
be so
simply beautiful.

Poetry from Emotions in Eruption

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