The Calming Storm

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From my slumber
I awake—to Nature’s great melee!
Raging Hydra’s electric tendrils
Kissing Sky to Sea.
My chamber shakes; the window sash
Shoots open. Shutters bang and mirrors crash.
The wind flies in and skirts around,
Makes a cyclone of my hair and gown.
The salty splashes christen me:
Out-mad thy madness with the sea!
How I wish I could this bedlam train:
Make mincemeat of my soul and brain.
To teach it how to come again
And calm my storms as Nature can.

Fostering Creativity – Part 4

Embrace Randomness

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It worked for these hepcats

The surrealists believed in the power of randomness to invoke the muse. Automatic writing can clear the detritus built up on the brain after weeks of editing as much as a (I’m hoping) War of the Apes will. It’s also a channel to new (sometimes ancient) ideas uncomplicated by the burden of conscious thought. And it really works!

Continue reading “Fostering Creativity – Part 4”

Obsidian

 

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Volcanic dense, though lava cooled,
Carved Phoenix rising to the sky,
To penetrate a pale, blue pool,
A morning call to Night's demise.

Shine forth, ye peaked, ebony jewel,
Reveal within the sun's first rays,
A standing power's highest view
And witness to a million days.

An ancient tower, black on blue,
Erected by a thousand slaves
From distant quarries forth they drew–
Obsidian–its glassy face—the vanity of gods embrue.

As chaos, ever creeping darkness looms,
Be light and wise among the ruins.

Twitter poem #1

Creative constraints can be a good thing. Here’s my first Twitter poem (I use that term liberally here). I had one character left over. Wee!

Unfollowing you,
I let you go
To live your life
Outside my know.
I’m lighter now without your seeds
Of doubt and dour, incessant needs.

On Easter Sunday

easter

by R. Saint Claire
In our Sunday coats we stay.
A sunny day! When colored
Eggs and sweets we crave:
A visit to the family grave.

Up the thorny path we're taken
To the hill where marble crypts
And busts of men (their ranks forsaken)
Rest in shades of obelisks.

An actor who revered the Bard’s
Now dust beneath a stately stone.
He held his art in high regard.
For all his lust, his name’s unknown.

Frozen ‘neath a sheet of glass,
A child’s grave, and on display:
A bear, a boat, a horn of brass.
All wait forlornly by an urn
Through light and dark for his return.

White tulips on a verdant mound
Strewn with weathered, withered wreaths,
Push their buds through rain-soaked ground
Past tokens of a former grief.
Each year their pretty promise ends
For Death’s vain hope to rise again.

The Storm

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The Storm

by R. Saint Claire

Sheets of ocean pierced by Titans
Channeled on Leviathan's back,
Swells and lolls, crests and heightens,
Mounting Sky’s sulphuric crack.

In black, the mad widow divining
From the shore, among the wrack,
A golden sphere from her hand is shining,
Sparkling remnants of the heart she gave.
Tonight--at last her stars aligning--
She’ll lie within his watery grave.

Ode to Spring

botticelliprimavera

ODE TO SPRING
by R. Saint Claire

Wings span across the sky in flight
Green, snaking slivers stretch and lift.
From murky mounds to peaks of light
The falcon’s golden iris shifts.

From sea to seedlings turning under
Deep earth wherein the giant lolls,
Waking buds from winter slumber
Burst to life on verdant knolls.

The naked maiden in the river,
From the mud the clearing tides;
Golden goddess, faithful giver,
Gathers up the blooms that rise.

Love Sonnet #2

thejewishbride

ONE HEART
By R. Saint Claire

Loving center and corporeal home,
A fused join at two chambers meeting,
Sacred symbol of the love I own,
And emblem of my life’s completing.

The battlefield of daily strife
Can’t compromise the greater will,
That you’re my husband, I’m your wife.
What wars are lost! What blood we spill!

Silly to think it my decision,
But I’ve been tempered by the years.
In true love there is no division;
A cauterizing brand--my heart is seared.

Revered, loving heart--one blood, one breath!
To honor and cherish till my death.

Love Sonnet

 

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LOVE SONNET
by R. Saint Claire

Bright twinkle of stars and warmth of the sun,
Flotillas of clouds in Heaven’s fresh air,
Dark battles through which the brave hero becomes,
To all things amazed my lover compares.

The moon’s pale mystery, the change in the tides,
And sands in the hourglass’ turns in a day,
That cause shallow men from Love’s duty to hide,
Shall never convince my bold lover to stray.

Sweetest dwelling never leased, but owned,
His key in the lock of my chamber remains.
A palace or hovel--his love is my home.
My heart’s true passion’s my lover’s domain.

These things I swear ‘bout my love and I do:
As Heaven above him, my lover is true.

 

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