#AtoZChallenge ‘K is for Keel’ #Haiku #NaPoWriMo #PoetryMonth

 
This photo was taken by Andrés, @adpascuas, my daughter’s boyfriend, while he was visiting the island of San Andrés, part of an archipelago located in the Caribbean, which belongs to Colombia.

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Keel (after Martin Carter)
Grounded Keel once saw
Ocean stained with memory
Now tourists snap shots

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The boat in the picture reminded me of Martin Carter’s poem, Fragment of Memory, from The When Time (1977), so I borrowed part of one of his last lines for my haiku.

Martin Wylde Carter (1927–1997) considered the greatest Guyanese poet, and one of the most important Caribbean poets, is best known for his poems of protest, resistance and revolution.
I love his poems because they are full of emotion and often sorrow, and yet they are not bitter or resentful. His poems acknowledge the pain but they also transmit hope in a better future.
Like Carter, I believe we should move on, but not forget. On the contrary, we need to be reminded of where we came from and past injustice to avoid a repetition of historical crimes and pay tribute to those who suffered.

More of Martin Carter’s poems here.

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This year is my fourth AtoZ Challenge. My theme this year is poetry once again. I’ll be writing a haiku a day, but I’m also adding a new hobby to the posts, photography. I will post one of my photos, or a donated photo, every day to accompany my haiku.

This April, I’ll also be sharing my poems and joining another group of poets at National Poetry Writing Month, organised since 2003 by Maureen Thorsonn. Write 30 poems in 30 days. I’m in! What about you?

 

#AtoZChallenge ‘I is for Ink’ #Haiku #NaPoWriMo #PoetryMonth

Ink
Ink trickles from pen
I exist I bleed I write
Squeezing my soul dry
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Writing a poem is slow, painful and cathartic. 

Feelings translated into syllables and words are painstakingly wrenched from the soul and poured onto a blank page.

It’s excruciating, disturbing, and always frustrating, but there’s no alternative. It’s the only option for the poet, condemned to pursue that perfect combination of phrases, sounds and emotions, she will never find…

And yet, I feel at peace when a poem is completed. I feel cleansed, untroubled, and hopeful, because the perfect poem is closer…

I wrote a piece of flash fiction Called Ink and Blood recently, which you might like to read, based on this same idea.

How do you feel while and after you’ve written a poem?

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This year is my fourth AtoZ Challenge. My theme this year is poetry once again. I’ll be writing a haiku a day, but I’m also adding a new hobby to the posts, photography. I will post one of my photos, or a donated photo, every day to accompany my haiku.

This April, I’ll also be sharing my poems and joining another group of poets at National Poetry Writing Month, organised since 2003 by Maureen Thorsonn. Write 30 poems in 30 days. I’m in! What about you?

 

#CarrotRanch #FlashFiction ‘Red Ink’

Red Ink

The poet always wrote with red ink.

A constant reminder that his blood, the blood that pulsed through the fingers that held his pen, was red, not blue like the rippling sea, or black, like a moonless night…

His blood was red, a bold, vibrant scarlet, ablaze with love or hate, sometimes sizzling with lust, others fierce with rage, but never tepid.

His blood was red like a crimson dawn, or a ruby sunset.

Black or blue was the choice of those who embraced the vulgarity of conformity.   

He lifted his pen, growled at the blank page and bled.

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T. S. Eliot’s well known quote, in which he compares writing to spilling out one’s soul, using ink instead of blood, prompted me to write this flash.

I’m sure he didn’t use red ink, or blood to write, but he wrote with fierce honesty, strength and beauty.    

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This post was written in response to Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch’s weekly #99 word Flash Fiction Challenge. This week’s prompt is ‘Ink’. Check out other entries or take part yourself!