555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Thursday, 5 September 2013

"Dream's Diatribe - Waking's Praise" (Entry 424)

I woke up crying. 

From a dream, 
in which you were... 

lost. 

Not 'un'found. 
Lost to me - no longer around. 
(Prepared for ground.)
Can't say - nor scribe - the words. 
Though you know
My meaning
Of this keening. 

They wept and wailed. 
I watched them wail and weep. 
I stood before gathered crowd. 
You - I'm proud, but not of them. 
I bit and clawed and chewed them out. 
Told them all, without a doubt,
Of each mistake and disservice recorded,
With each word, it's you, 
It's you, I applauded. 
In the end, an audience shocked, knowing their woes from wrongs. 
A lament of venom. Poisoned songs.  

I woke up crying.
Devastated. 
(In seeing you, my fears abated.) 
Though I reel and break apart,
The scene unbidden which broke my heart. 
For in that nightmare, at the root,
Held many bitter bitten-tongued truth. 
I wish there was strength in my being,
To call them out (on your behalf) with words so freeing. 
Instead emotion stays locked inside,
In subconscious, these diatribes hide. 

I woke up crying,
from dream cruel and strange,
Knowing that there was one way, 
I could act on and change. 
I promise I'll be here you for always. 
I may have woken with tears,
But I'll mop away your sadness. 
Bring warmth and laughter to replace fears. 
I promise, with daring desire,
a passion's extol. 
I'll tell you, I LOVE YOU!
Each day,
With body, heart, mind and soul.

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