photo: Tahunanui, an afternoon like any other except for a little magic at the Tahunanui beach
A ruffled cormorant was drying its wings
as for me, I was digging in the sand with my toes,
and you were chewing on a twig,
another one, over there, was looking for gold in the sand,
in other words, he was feeding on hope
then it started to rain
*put online in 2022
photo : a taverna (Mikonos) near the sea would be perfect on a hot day in Nelson
One should thank the night
for the waves of fresh air
sweeping across the face
reviving the spirit
I am talking about summer! and
the heat falling on the shoulders
from the start of the day
What do I have to do today?
I must not forget to thank the night
photo: une sorte d’arbre de Noël, a kind of Christmas tree
photo: in Morocco, the dark shadow exiting evokes the year that will soon be out of our (conscious) lives.
Happy poetic New Year to all visiting the blog regularly or from time to time. Since the opening of this blog, I have explored poetry in different forms, but it has always been, since the beginning, about capturing words inspired by a moment, a sentence, a word, a photo, a thought, or a mix. I wonder what has occupied my mind on that day, the nature of my reflections or my concerns, which I then translate into words and I then try to find a photo that will illustrate the words, or it is the other way around, watching a photo triggers thoughts that turn into a poem. Visitors always make me happy, whether it’s a like or a thought, a preference, an inference: thank you.
I draw my inspiration from different sources, some of which have been constant over the years, while others have dried up over time. I have preferences: generally speaking, I look for simplicity ( Basho for example), last year I added the New Zealand poet Sam Hunt and Keri Hulme to my list of readings, but I am still haunted by the beauty of Bo Carpelan’s writing , among the French, Saint-John-Perse is still there, Rimbaud, among the English, Phillip Larkin, the Welsh Dylan Thomas and Basho among the Japanese and many others. Jung, the psychoanalyst keeps nourishing my inner world. was pleasantly surprised recently to read a quote from him saying we should be grateful to our imagination, which I thought, was refreshing (I have a huge reserve of it), after growing up in an environment where such an ability was considered as a hindrance rather than a growing tool. This year, I have increasingly listened to different style of music which nourishes my thoughts in a different way. It is a terrific and privileged journey to be able to explore the nature of life and emotions in this way and I will be back at my desk (which, quite often, is an imaginary one in my head). In the meantime I am sharing the beauty of the New Zealand summer.
Poetically yours
Sylvie G
Photo: Collingwood, one of those scenes that forces you to live in the present moment.
It was this light,
grey, I suppose,
that filled all my eyes
with the present moment.
I tire in the past,
I get lost in the future,
but if I grasp it, I do not get tired of the present.
Yet I constantly escape from it.
