Cold April – A Poem

Way back when I was still at school I had a bit of a thing for iambic pentameter for a while, and sonnets.
 This isn't a sonnet, nor is it completely faithfully in iambic pentameter wither.  However, I remember well when I wrote it - another cold April, snow among other things...
snow and light detail photo
 
 
bland white moments of loneliness i ponder
a concentrated mind allowed to wander
wings its way to far, distorted scenes -
mere creations of these frightened dreams?
 
tired eyes pursue each short mortality
imagination lost and reaching for reality
the sweet snow falls, these reveries to take -
your face reflected in each transient flake
 
 
                                          © Naomi Madelin 1989
 
(1989?!?!)

Haiku Tea II – Linked Verse

I’ve had a great few weeks getting involved with a Haiku group over on Google Plus.

I watched and waited for a while, then thought “hey, I may as well plunge in and see what happens.” Well, what happened was, I wrote some haiku!  It’s been a while and this was a great way to get me thinking creatively again, paying attention to the small things and taking my time.

I was pleased to take part in the second of a now-ongoing series of linked poetry collaborations. In a given order we were each to write a haiku using the last line of the previous poem as our first.

This was the result of Haiku Tea II:

life has scattered seeds
waits for the memories to
grow into longing                                         Shashi

grow into longing
to relive past victories
to feel youth’s passion                               Bob Hartwig

to feel youth’s passion
to bring back things lost, many
many like flowers                                       Craig Volney

many like flowers
tap muddy feet, delighting
one crimson petal                                      Carolyn St Charles

one crimson petal
open wide, drink up the sun
now, tis time for fun                                   Jamer Nicolls

now, tis time for fun
and profound reflections with
tender threnodies…                                    Berteena Gaines

tender threnodies —
life’s strewn seeds yielded thorns
will hope succumb?                                   Gracy Dsouza

will hope succumb?
your freedom starts at dry grounds
take it, keep walking!                                  Anna Liniacka & http://web.ift.uib.no/~lipniack/

take it keep walking…
it is about the journey
the road less travelled                                A.M. Frasier

the road less travelle
to where it stands, Singular,
calling the Walker                                       Gabri Rigotti & http://www.greenit.org.za/green-poetry.html

calling the Walker…
waiting for the memories
to help me forget                                         Jim Williams

to help me forget
greener grasses, purple haze
colour yesterday                                          John Belchamber & http://JRBHaiku.wordpress.com

colour yesterday
thoughts so haunting
travelling through the air                            Tammy Wright

travelling through the air
my soul searches for love, peace
savouring the view                                      Steve Yagyagan

savouring the view
I pretend the clouds are hills
on the horizon                                              Jessica Baehr

on the horizon
dawn births the egg of fire
to sear the sky pink                                     Joe Nicholas & http://joecrowpoe.wordpress.com/

to sear the sky pink
with reflections of tall birds
flaming with bright love                              Francis JA

flaming with bright love –
gazing at strangers
in this familiar photograph                        Naomi Madelin

in this familiar photograph
memories lap at your feet :
a forever flow of holy green                      Omuhuvah Otido & http://www.omukuvah.org/literature/poetry



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The Mr Chompy Incident

If you’re looking for the name for a band, you could do worse than “Mr Chompy”, or “The Mr Chompy Incident” if you fancy.

So I’ve run a lovely bubbly bath for the two little Miss Madelins, and Miss 5 has stripped off and I’m about to help her in when she throws a completely unexpected and totally genuine fit because, apparently, Mr Chompy – the invisible chomping monster, is in there. It’s true, she says, because she dreamt it. Seriously – this is a child who is not known for her tantrums. In fact, in Helensville, New Zealand, where she was born, she was famous for NOT throwing tantrums. (Oh boy, were my friends smug when number two came along – the chubby loud one!) Eventually, after many Mr Chompy checks in which my hand WAS NOT EATEN OFF. Including one check in which I pretented that Mr Chompy had got me and was trying to pull my arm down the plug hole (did NOT go down well – sense of humour failure on the part of my usually-humourful daughter), I persuaded Miss 5 into her bath.

Now for Miss 3. OH HO! She will throw a tantrum at the best of times, but with the introduction of MR CHOMPY (thanks a lot, Miss 5) she was going to throw a doozy.

In short, I got very wet. The bathroom got very wet. Miss 3 got very swiftly washed and hauled out of her bath, un-chomped, and Miss 5 gloomily ‘enjoyed’ having the tub to herself for five minutes. Naturally having taken ten minutes to get into the bath, she then did not wish to leave and it was, allegedly, “NOT FAIR” that I wouldn’t pretend that she was a dolphin…

Never a dull day.

So – it’s me on vocals, who’s on keyboard?

Aligator

(c) Naomi Madelin