poemsbyninotaziz

An Experiment in Haiku and Trireme Sonnet

Bastet

scorching summer breeze
she stood gazing at the Nile
a goddess, no less

***

Bastet, she ruled in great royal chambers

A life of joy and dance permeated

Thousands of years of exquisite sublime

Sun-God Ra's bewitching lovely daughter

Above all, she held her cats most sacred

To run through temples of the most divine

Her court of cult and loyal followers

Adored her - she was both feared and revered
Her grace, aggression, seduction combined

If I could live but, a joyous hour

In those ancient times with my beloved

To walk by her side, and to make her mine

To live, and die - beheld by such power

To be loved by so tender a lover

words by ninotaziz. all rights reserved

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Once again, Samuel Peralta entices us, this time to try something not quite new - yes, a sonnet, but a structured one that promises to be an exciting experiment - what he terms as a Trireme Sonnet. I was thrilled to be introduced to the work of Heather Horton of Canada - and I admit, I am always happy to be reminded of the land I spent growing into adulthood. Her artwork "Sasha, Sun" inspired the poem above.

I think I am going to trip over iambic pentameters but I will give it a try.

Lovely introduction and prompt Samuel, over at dVerse.

And a little haiku as well. Thank you.

Ancient Patterns

Celtic Passion

Long before Romeo and Juliet
I fell in love with love
Courageous Tristan, fiery Iseult
Passion that moved the earth

Greek Legends

The curiousity of Anisedora
Released all pain, suffering and evil
But Epithemeus, despite caution, loved her
Only hope remained for the world

Chinese Loyalty

The love of the Emperor
For the little nightingale
Can be forgotten for a while
But at the end of the tale

- irreplaceable.

Words by ninotaziz. All rights reserved.
Ancient patterns belong to the world.

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For Poets United and Open Link Night

Scheherazade of Persia (a haiku, ghazal and free verse)

Hope shimmers skywards

Stars greet summer night stories

Arabian Tales

The moon and stars have come out to play, my love

As you walk in the garden tonight, my love

Pale in comparison to your loveliness

The tall trees and river can only sigh, love

You tell stories to the Sultan in chambers

The cliffhanger is here as dawn draws nigh, love

You live yet another day, as he wonders

The people do pray for you and your life, love

Day ends and once again the Queen disappears

Hope illuminates the streets until sunrise, love

Today, in books and around the lounge fires

Storytellers pay tribute to you, my love

rich walls whisper

tapestries hang

delicious folklore spills forth

behind screen of virtue

transcend time and place

horrific terror

she will bring it to end

with delicious selfless love

behind screen of truth

beauty and grace

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Inspired by beauty, I write a haiku, a ghazal and free verse in tribute to a most famous ancient Queen. Do you know who she is and the name of her city?

Thank you Kelvin at dVerse. You debut in style.

When heroes fall

silence is deafening

when heroes fall from grace

deep freeze winter

takes place

le silence est terrifiant
où les héros tomber de la grâce
l'hiver arrête le coeur

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on reflection, my heart is uncertain what to feel when seemingly immortal men prove they are very human after all.

Leonard Cohen

This is my work. Writing is my work...
...and in your work you locate your self respect

Leonard Cohen

You opened your eyes to the world

And translated that to soulful words

that touched the hearts

Like a Bird of Wire

"Like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free."

Thank you Leonard Cohen. For words.

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For dVerse. Thank you Mary.

Wind of History by Jacek Yerka

I think of the difficult times and sometimes, disappointment that Leonard Cohen went through earlier in life. From this he drew words from a place he said he knew not. Isn't this a wonderful inspiration to all writers as we write with passion and love for the written word, not knowing where they came from. Finding out in the end, it was well worth the pain, the time, the paper they were written on.

from suffering and pain
a tortured place, haunted
came the gift of words
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My tribute to Cohen continues on the Magpie Tales