Tag: Creativity

March Morning Meditation

© RedCat

Morning dawns

Frost covering the lawns

Ten below zero

Radiating fairy glow

Cold and clear

No hint spring is near

Soon there’s a haze

Icy cold air rising

Lifted by the sun’s rays

Winter vaporising

Gentle touch on skin

Warmth starts to seep in

Giving cause

To slow down and pause

Halt the morning commute

Let deep breaths inner landscape transmute

Calms and quiets the angry anxious din

Roaring deep within

Giving peace and clarity of thought

Reducing the turmoil chaos wrought

Showing there’s no need to hesitate

Seek the benefits of taking a short moment to breathe and meditate

Changing the trajectory of morning and day

Allowing what the world throws at you to be handled in a more constructive conductive way

© RedCat

For the first time in ages I felt the drive to meditate. I’m grateful I did. Since it both started off my day in a better way, and sparked my creativity to write a short poem on my morning commute.

2

August Approaches – A Puente Poem

As August approaches,

in a golden sweltering haze

Impostor-syndrom encroaches,

trapping in this self-loathing maze

I’ve lived here for ages,

familiar with its confounding ways

Seen my dreams turn to ashes,

evaporate as hopelessness blaze

~ I’ve made new choices,

now can I the changes face ~

As August approaches,

in golden sweltering haze

Thoughts of breaking free encroaches,

I have to burn this thorny self-doubt gorse maze

Learn and evolve as I ages,

find new self-caring and nurturing ways

I will rise from the ashes,

remade by this creative blaze

©RedCat
Flowers Hermitage in Winter from Wikimedia Commons

I should be asleep, but can’t because all thoughts swirling. Realized after reading others poetry, that writing the turmoil out probably where a better way than watching tv.

So sat by candlelight, watching the moon and poured it on paper.

Written for First Line Friday over at Mindlovemisery Menagerie.

Stechginster Blaetter from Wikimedia Commons
4

As I Reap The Dreams That I Have Sown – A Harvest Song

There’s thunder in the sky,
the sickle flashes by.
As I hurry to cut down the corn.

I reap with a happy sigh,
as swift swallows fly.
The field must be done by Sunday morn.

I’ve struggled and hoped,
clinging to a frayed rope.
Until roots took hold, new futures were born.
Now I’ve got to be bold, leave behind what I’ve been told.

Forget about the lonely tears I weeped.
As I reap the dreams that I have sown.

The harvest moon glow,
when I life changes sow.
As I sing beneath the sickle moon.

I’ll rise above my woes,
when the change of seasons blows.
As I dance scy-clad to her freeing tune.

Forget about the lonely tears I weeped.
As I reap the dreams that I have sown.

I’ve sown the seeds,
that my soul will free.
Time to harvest them just like the corn.

I’ve learnt to know my needs,
to my muses feed.
Now let creativity my life adorn.

I’ve struggled and hoped,
clinging to a frayed rope.
Until roots took hold, new futures were born.
Now I’ve got to be bold, leave behind what I’ve been told.

Forget about the lonely tears I weeped.
As I reap the dreams that I have sown.

As I reap the dreams that I have sown.

©RedCat

Written for earthweal’s weekly challenge: LAMMAS. I was so inspired by the song in the prompt, a 14th century song about the death and rebirth of the barley crop (video below), that I had to write one of my own.

Of sowing and reaping, growing and weeping, of dreams becoming reality.

Steve Winwood singing “John Barleycorn must die” – a 14th century song about the death and rebirth of the barley crop

Photo credits:

Sickle moon – Photo by Mitchell Bowser on Unsplash

Corn Field – Photo by Nadine Redlich on Unsplash

5

Those Aren’t Mountains, Those Are Waves

Photo by Meriç Dağlı on Unsplash

Those aren’t mountains, those are waves.
Waves of passion and devotion.
Waves of unacknowledged emotions.

Those aren’t bruised storm clouds, those are pent up emotions.
Emotions of loneliness and sorrow.
Emotions of creativity boiling in the marrow.

Those aren’t broken bones, those are shattered dreams.
Dreams of trust and love.
Dreams of lust and desire.

Those aren’t fires, those are raging desires.
Desires of body and soul.
Desires of feeling connection and being whole.

Those aren’t shattered pieces, those are parts of a whole.
A whole containing shadows and lights.
A whole of days and nights.

©RedCat

Written for tonight’s Poetics: “Go Ahead, Make My Day” at dVerse. Where Mish gives us a bevy of movie quotes to choose from and incorporate into a poem of any style. I started more than one draft, but in the end the best one came from a movie I haven’t seen. But now I think I’ll have too. 

“Those aren’t mountains, those are waves.”

– Interstellar, 2014
Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
16

Mind Finds Soul Fearlessly Shines – April Ekphrastic Challenge

Kerfe Roig – Cave

In the recesses of my mind
Hidden deep within the folds
So that no monster will it find
Is a cave that hidden dreams hold
Where multicoloured hopes shine
Where the soul spark core personality mould

Hidden deep within my mind
The passions I learned to hide
In a cave that no one can find
The creativity that gives joy and pride
From the soul spark core eternally shine
A girl finding the Goddess sacraments all starry-eyed

The passions ruling my heart and mind
Gives intimate solace as nothing else can
The creativity through which I peace find
The only thing that abuse taught fears ban
A girl seeing the Goddess sacraments in her soul shine
Finds the goldenrod light path that’s been there since life began

©RedCat

Inspired by Kerfe Roig’s rorschach like “Cave” and three words from the Skyloverwordlist, sacrament, intimate and goldenrod.

The use of repetition here is my own “weft and warp” as I’ve previously described it, meaning it’s a form invented by me during writing. As in Moonsea a poem from the first ekphrastic challenge I participated in.

To see all art and read all poems for today go to The Wombwell Rainbow.

Photo credit: Alina Grubnyak on Unsplash

Read more about the Spanish neuroscientist, pathologist, and histologist specializing in neuroanatomy and the central nervous system Santiago Ramón y Cajal referenced in the picture on Wikipedia.

Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand Pointing, Silver Birch Press, Yellow Chair Review, The song is…, Pure Haiku, Visual Verse, The Light Ekphrastic, Scribe Base, The Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100, Incandescent Mind, Pea River Journal, Fiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/

April Ekphrastic Challenge – GloPoWriMo 2021

4

I Was Born– January Ekphrastic Challenge, January 17

Kerfe Roig – I was born (after Yayoi Kusama)

I was born
Blank slate
Touched by neither prophesy nor fate

I was born
Budding traits
Balancing on point til they meet love or hate

I was born
Curiosity great
Learned my sex should their minds prostrate

I was born
Told to wait
Stay still, be quiet, one day someone chooses you as mate

I was born
Killed as bait
Some women never get scared witless nor straight

I was reborn
To illustrate
There’s life after trauma that minds titillate

I was reborn
Myself dedicate
The right to survive and freedom to thrive reinstate

I was reborn
Souls to elate
To love and pain vividly narrate

I was reborn
Loving state
New creative and passionate adventures await

©RedCat

Read all of today’s poetry and see all art at The Wombwell Rainbow.

Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand Pointing, Silver Birch Press, Yellow Chair Review, The song is…, Pure Haiku, Visual Verse, The Light Ekphrastic, Scribe Base, The Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100, Incandescent Mind, Pea River Journal, Fiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/
1

Red Fox – A Golden Shovel Poem

Photo by Alex Andrews from Pexels

“She said if a red fox had crossed somewhere, that area was safe”

from “Surfacing” by Kathleen Jamie.

Once, I met a Fay, this is what she said.
Beware of human glamour, if a
person your klaxons clamor, with visions of blood running red
Heed the warning, be clever, cunning, quick as a fox

You already a lifetime of suffering had
Monster, upon monster has your path crossed
Get out, go away, seek another context somewhere

Where your gifts are cherished, your heart nourished, that area
Are your fountain of trust, wellspring of creative lust, deep source of love that was safe

©RedCat

Never one to back down from an intricate form, I had a go at a Golden Shovel poem, where the last words of each line in are, in order, words from a line or lines taken another poem.

The line in Poetics: travels in the wild over at dVerse that spoke the most to me was this.

Source
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