kohaku | (no subject)

dutch_eowyn was surprised to hear that I write. Now, I haven't posted anything in ages, because I haven't written anything (fandom related) in ages.

To be absolutely honest, I'm scared shitless by the talent that many writers have, right here, in this fandom, in lj. I'm amazed by the creativity and versatility. You people are amazing. I read touching stories that really made something stir inside of me, saw beautiful art, be it icons or manips or collages or whatever. I read witty essays, laughed at the silliness of some of you, enjoyed the things you had to share.

But, alas, scared shitless because of it. I pondered about what

kaydeefalls wrote in her last entry. Poetry really should be a part of you. A part you want to share. I still fidget everytime I let somebody read it, for different reasons, depending on the poem. Poetry always pulls some private insights into the lime light. So, here are some glimpses of me. Unfiltered. Skip or comment as you like.

Nan

I want to do something drastic
With my hair
Cut it all off, maybe
Shave it.

The shock it would give my mother.

My hands on the scissors
I remember my grandmother
Her silvery threads of hair
Being shorn off at hospital,
Like sheep's wool.

She had been able to sit on hers, but
It never grew back.
Short spikes instead of
Mercury waves accompanied her
In her coffin.

My own short hair grew
Slowly, steadily
Ever since I realised
She could not grow hers anymore.

____________________________

Kelvingrove

"There is a certain affinity between painters and poets; a painting is indeed nothing other than a wordless poem."
~ Mc Lellan Galleries

Three years to refurbish Kelvingrove
Their relocated treasures now at McLellan
I look at wordless poems
Which can say more with just
A paintstroke
Than I can with
Larynx, lips, teeth, tongue
The pen my only hope.

____________________________________

Long Distance

Your voice sounds metallic
There are clicks and clinks in it.
I wonder if you are speaking
Through a can, a pretended phone
Like a child.
The ocean that separates us
Somehow crept into the line.
I can hear the waves breaking and
My love buzzes.
Can you decipher my words?
Longing knows no language.
You do not need to
Reassemble my fractured speech.
I hang up, angry
At the cost and sad
Because your voice didn't sound
like your voice at all.

_____________________________

Lady Edinburgh

Edinburgh itself is not mad
She is patient.
She takes everyone that wants to see her,
Bids them in
Here's the parlour, the lounge is over there
Make yourself comfortable.
And they do.

Tourists never fail to ring her bell
Showing up on her doorstep,
Tired, dirty
Expecting glory of past times now
All wrapped up in tartan, aran wool
and pipes.

And Edinburgh, trying to be a lady,
Does all that.

Posted mainly for

dutch_eowyn. I know it's not fandom related. But I thought you might be interested.