The exercise:
I know I mentioned yesterday that I'd share what I got for Christmas but I'm feeling an urge to write some poetry. So I'll just list one thing today and get to more over the course of the week.
Kat got me this tripodand so far I absolutely love it. I've wanted a tripod ever since I started taking pictures and I've already taken lots of shots with it. I'm thrilled with the ability to take low lighting shots without a flash that don't blur. I'll be sure to post a few here.
But for now, here's your prompt for today: tribal rhythms.
Mine:
Bare feet pounding on cooling sand
As the sun melts into the hills;
Making music since time began,
Which now seems to be standing still.
Hands thrust toward the starry sky,
Sway back and forth in unison,
Before slapping down on thick thighs
Louder than the sound of ten guns.
This dance will not stop until dawn
But I must rest my weary head;
I know that when I rise they'll be gone,
Their bodies leaving naught unsaid.
Tap,tap on the drum.
ReplyDeleteThe beat connects to my soul.
My soul connects to its home:
The earth.
Tap, tap on the drum.
That's a very nice tripod by the looks of things, and the reviews seem pretty positive too. The only issue I've ever found with a tripod is that for casual photography they're a bit of a nuisance to carry around, but I guess that's the trade off you make -- a little inconvenience for better pictures!
ReplyDeleteI'd forgotten about the upcoming poetry tournament, I've still got another week haven't I? I'm expecting to follow in the established tradition though, and will spend this weekend working on a vituperative poem to post when I lose in the first round (and will change my username to Bitter_Hartzia in protest).
That's a great poem from you today, wherever the inspiration came from for that, it was a good place! The second verse is probably my favourite as it seems to snapshot a moment of the dance really well.
Tribal rhythms
The tent is sewn from animal skins,
Soft, pliable leather,
Taken when- and wherever,
Suspended from a framework of sticks,
And housing a girl, a priestess:
She who must be heard,
Keeper of the sacred word,
Who is watching me right now.
Weird piping ululates and people sway,
Holding knives of obsidian
And mimicking things ophidian,
Their music comes straight from the tribal soul.
She speaks a word, my ancient name;
Somewhere a drum begins to pound,
Small tremors rock the ground,
A collective sigh stirs the air
Like the hot southern wind that isn't there,
And she stands abruptly,
Tall, elegant before me,
And all the spirit of the tribe is embodied there,
Gathered up and held within her.
She says my name
Twice, and then again,
And I am pinned, controlled,
By tribal rhythms. I must behold
As she passes judgment on my recent acts,
Lists and sifts the relevant facts,
And reaches a final decision.
I leave the tent and walk away,
Unsteadily,
On feet that may not touch this ground again.
Makes me want to visit Tahiti.
ReplyDeleteYou've inspired me to start a new blog just for writing practice.
So you know my attempts at poetry are pretty lame, to say the most for them, but I gave it a shot.
ReplyDeleteThe soft, constanst sound,
the foot, pounding the dirt,
thump, thump, thump,
pounding out it's own tribabl rhythm.
The heart beating in time,
thum-thump, thum-thump,
adding to the beat.
The breath, coming more labored now,
inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale,
loudly, it is dominating now.
The sound of blood pumping,
rush inside my head,
swoosh, swoosh, swoosh,
it's become it's own song.
There in the distance,
the finish line,
the tribal rhythms of my body,
have carried me through the run.
By the way....thanks for always being here when I find the time to get back to writing!! I depend on you!
Alright, first off - you are all awesome. It's so great to come home to responses like these! So: thank you.
ReplyDeleteBunny - good to see you around here again :)
I really like yours, the use of repetition is nicely done and it has a nice, soothing quality to it.
Greg - it is a bit of a pain, but I've found it well worth it so far. Plus it's not too heavy.
The name change would be brilliant, but I suspect it won't be needed ;) I believe sign ups are cut off on the 31st and then Rachel will have something for us on the 7th, once she's sorted out the format.
Thanks for the kind words on my poem. Drumming on a djembe can bring out some good stuff :) Yours is fantastic and I'd point out my favorite bit but this comment is approaching novel length already.
Lilibeth - that is awesome! Please come back and post a link once you have it setup :)
Tam - great to see you back too!
Bad mouth your poetry all you like, but I think you're definitely improving with practice. I quite liked this one!
And you're welcome and thank you for such a wonderful comment :)
Phew. I need a nap after all that! :P