Mind

Grey cells (generations).

You know that feeling when when suddenly you have a vivid flashback to certain moments in your childhood? All of a sudden you find yourself surrounded by ghosts of memories and of people you loved so much. You realize how far you are from them, in distance, in time, in mortality.

This poem is for my family, as I remember from hot summer nights fifteen years ago. I loved them once. I had them once. Now I cherish the memories.

grey cells

Advertisements
Standard
Mind

As you walk away.

15847872Photograph by Keith Morris, Nov/Dec 1971

This is perhaps my favorite picture of Nick. This is the one that will be tattooed on me in some form or another one day. Yesterday was his birthday. He’d be 68. I’m having a lot of trouble believing that. It’s almost inconceivable.

Nick Drake, 68.

It sort of rhymes, doesn’t it?

Anyway, as is tradition, I wrote him a poem. As the vestiges of the day slowly disappeared, I rushed to write it. Who knows why. It’s not like I get a special fan award for remembering him 42 years since his demise. Still.I guess it’s the thought that counts (although it isn’t even good).

I also realized today that he was born right around the summer solstice. Music takes over the world every year two days after his birthday. I think that’s quite poetic.

… enough dilly-dallying, here’s the poem. It is based at the same spot where the photo was taken.

As you walk away

Standard
Mind

NaPoWriMo: Day 5

I thought a lot about the optional prompts and I’ve decided not to follow the ones for days 5 and 6. Here instead is a poem that has been in the works for a while now. I call it orgasmic.

This is a very incomplete yet sorted list of words (currently standing at 150) that I have been collecting for some time now. They are stunning and feel so incredibly good as they pass from between your lips

I’ve broken them up in the style in which I like to read them out loud. Speaking of reading out loud, please do it. Feel the words in your mouths, savor them. And if you don’t like the sound of your own voice, ask someone else to read it out to you. The power, the sensuality, the intensity… there is nothing like it.

day 5

(I hope anyone read this enjoys words as much as I do. I’ll probably post more poems in the same vein soon. Words are some of the prettiest things to exist and no matter what language you speak, I’m sure there are words/phrases/gestures/characters/intonations etc to fall in love with. Language is one of the greatest human triumphs, isn’t it?)

 

Standard
Mind

Nick.

I’m trying to put all of my poetry here, just for the ease of access.

This is an old one, written for Nick Drake, an incredible folk singer from the ’60s, whose music kept me afloat in times I didn’t want to be. I owe Nick much of my life, and while we never shared a moment of co-existence, I’m so grateful for Nicholas Rodney Drake and so, so in love with him.

nick

Standard
Mind

NaPoWriMo: Day 4

Wow.

I lasted one day.

This has to be a record even for me. I’m motivated, nonetheless. And although I’ll probably end up Arthur Shappey-ing my way through this month, as long as I have 30 (if not more) poems to show by the end of it, I’ll be happy!

I’m going to try and write 3 poems today, and day four was a great place to start since I love the prompt(write about the cruelest month). So here it is!

This particular poem comes from the fact that I will be meeting the person I was in love with (and who was my best friend) in December and I’m already anxious. I am afraid that I’ll start feeling how I used to and even more afraid that I might not.

day 4

(AND I just realized that everything seems to have jarring romantic overtones. Not that romantic overtones are bad, it’s just slightly disconcerting for me to write all this stuff in the current mental state that I am in. It’ll probably fade away in a bit. At least that’s what I’m hoping)

Standard