We’re almost halfway through NaPoWrimo as it is day 13. Today’s prompts are a riddle poem brought to us by NapoWrimo and a confession poem brought to us by Writer’s Digest. I combined the prompts to come up with my piece. It may be an obvious one but it may not be. I didn’t want it to be too cryptic yet I didn’t want it to be too easy.
I tend to be a (day)dreamer and often find myself detached from what’s happening before me. I’m busy thinking metaphorically or having a memory about a past experience triggered by the most of obscure reference that may show itself right before. In any event, most of what I write comes from that place, however impractical and however absent it may make me in reality.
Mastering my dreams is a quest that I’ve been on for some time. I hope to achieve that mastery without making too much of a compromise with regards to the process that helps me to write.
Any of you have some trade-offs you need to contend with?
the thread is tugged
ever so gently
the pull is not felt
the hole grows
i am where i cannot be tethered
distance has no
harness, the abyss
is pocked by stars but
my return course is not charted
i will find my way back down
origami made totem
pleat something to
pluck me from oblivion
these hands of mine are
steeped in digression
i may remember the sound of the folds
Aimé Césaire was born June 26, 1913, in Basse-Pointe, a small town on the northeast coast of Martinique in the French Caribbean. He attended the Lycée Schoelcher in Martinique, and the Parisian schools Ecole Normale Supérieure and the Lycée Louis-le-Grand.
His books of poetry include Aimé Césaire: The Collected Poetry (University of California Press, 1983); Putting in Fetters (1960); Lost Bodies (1950), with illustrations by Pablo Picasso; Decapitated Sun (1948); Miraculous Arms (1946); andNotebook of a Return to the Homeland (1939).
He is also a playwright, and has written Moi, Laminaire (1982);The Tempest (1968), based on Shakespeare’s play; A Season at Congo (1966); and The Tragedy of King Cristophe (1963).
He is also the author of Discourse on Colonialism (1950), a book of essays which has become a classic text of French political literature and helped establish the literary and ideological movement Negritude, a term Césaire defined as “the simple recognition of the fact that one is black, the acceptance of this fact and of our destiny as blacks, of our history and culture.”
cited- poets.org: Aimé Césaire
The Woman and the Flame
Aimé Césaire, 1913 – 2008
A bit of light that descends the springhead of a gaze twin shadow of the eyelash and the rainbow on a face and round about who goes there angelically ambling Woman the current weather the current weather matters little to me my life is always ahead of a hurricane you are the morning that swoops down on the lamp a night stone between its teeth you are the passage of seabirds as well you who are the wind through the salty ipomeas of consciousness insinuating yourself from another world Woman you are a dragon whose lovely color is dispersed and darkens so as to constitute the inevitable tenor of things I am used to brush fires I am used to ashen bush rats and the bronze ibis of the flame Woman binder of the foresail gorgeous ghost helmet of algae of eucalyptus dawn isn’t it and in the abandon of the ribbands very savory swimmer From Solar Throat Slashed: The Unexpurgated 1948 Edition, published by Wesleyan University Press. Copyright © 2011 by Aimé Césaire.