Arietta Bryant's Blog, page 3
October 11, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 7
Day 7
Free Bird
I see my life flashing byBut always forward must I flyI am a bird upon the breezeThe path of least resistance please!To be a bird would be quite a thrillWith feathered wing and chirping billI take flight now to ride the windsBut now I know on each dice spinI can be the master of my lifeI am more than mum and wifeI am the wise owl of the nightI can choose which way I fly
Free Bird
I see my life flashing byBut always forward must I flyI am a bird upon the breezeThe path of least resistance please!To be a bird would be quite a thrillWith feathered wing and chirping billI take flight now to ride the windsBut now I know on each dice spinI can be the master of my lifeI am more than mum and wifeI am the wise owl of the nightI can choose which way I fly
October 7, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 6
"Write!" she said...
"Write the words and they will heal you","Tell your story" she says, "And they will hear you"."Go to the dark place and I'll be your light"."I will be there for you in sorrow filled nights"
But what if the door to that place can't be closedWhat If I'm lost there with memories of oldI don't want to open the door in the darkTo remember the days of a horror that's passed
I just want to be light and joy filled and happyThere are things best left hidden and wrapped up in plasticI don't want to go to the dark place I screamTyping so hard that my fingers might bleed
If I just keep typing and think cheerful thoughtsShe won't make me go there and open that doorBut for all my protesting I feel I am movingGetting a bit closer, but unsure what I am doing
There is a door up ahead it's bolted and lockedIt's covered in cobwebs and rusted up shutBut just underneath it I think I see lightPerhaps I might open it up... tonight
"Write the words and they will heal you","Tell your story" she says, "And they will hear you"."Go to the dark place and I'll be your light"."I will be there for you in sorrow filled nights"
But what if the door to that place can't be closedWhat If I'm lost there with memories of oldI don't want to open the door in the darkTo remember the days of a horror that's passed
I just want to be light and joy filled and happyThere are things best left hidden and wrapped up in plasticI don't want to go to the dark place I screamTyping so hard that my fingers might bleed
If I just keep typing and think cheerful thoughtsShe won't make me go there and open that doorBut for all my protesting I feel I am movingGetting a bit closer, but unsure what I am doing
There is a door up ahead it's bolted and lockedIt's covered in cobwebs and rusted up shutBut just underneath it I think I see lightPerhaps I might open it up... tonight
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 5
Behind the Curtain
Standing in the dark behind the curtainI wait...Feeling the energy risingI breathe...Adrenalin coursingI close my eyes...Heart pounding In my chestI am ready...But in the back of my head, that nagging doubtWhy do I do this to myself?For all that I fear it,In these moments of quiet panic, before the lights come upI live for the rush, the thrillTo live my artIn body, soul and heart
Standing in the dark behind the curtainI wait...Feeling the energy risingI breathe...Adrenalin coursingI close my eyes...Heart pounding In my chestI am ready...But in the back of my head, that nagging doubtWhy do I do this to myself?For all that I fear it,In these moments of quiet panic, before the lights come upI live for the rush, the thrillTo live my artIn body, soul and heart
October Poetry Month - Day 5
Behind the Curtain
Standing in the dark behind the curtainI wait...Feeling the energy risingI breathe...Adrenalin coursingI close my eyes...Heart pounding In my chestI am ready...But in the back of my head, that nagging doubtWhy do I do this to myself?For all that I fear it,In these moments of quiet panic, before the lights come upI live for the rush, the thrillTo live my artIn body, soul and heart
Standing in the dark behind the curtainI wait...Feeling the energy risingI breathe...Adrenalin coursingI close my eyes...Heart pounding In my chestI am ready...But in the back of my head, that nagging doubtWhy do I do this to myself?For all that I fear it,In these moments of quiet panic, before the lights come upI live for the rush, the thrillTo live my artIn body, soul and heart
October 5, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 4
Lonely in the crowdEach day the journey is the sameTravelling with strangers with no namesHeads bent low they read their phonesEach in a bubble all aloneWe don't speak or chat to othersHead phones in signals "please don't bother"We are a nation of social networkersEach in trapped a spidery web of isolating connectionsAlone in the hustle and bustle of the worldCrowded streets where no one sees anyone
October 3, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 3
3rd October
Dancing with Words
When I write poetryI like to watch the words as they fall onto the pageThey seem to dance like stardust,Slowly they settle into their right placeThey squeeze themselves into pentameter and stanzaInto sentence and into rhymeThey yearn for me to use themEach and every oneGolden nuggets brought forthFrom beneath chewed pencils and smudgy pensThey leap and jump at my command(And sometimes of their own free will) We - The Words and I -Carve out our dance floor together.
Arietta Bryant (c) 03/10/14
Dancing with Words
When I write poetryI like to watch the words as they fall onto the pageThey seem to dance like stardust,Slowly they settle into their right placeThey squeeze themselves into pentameter and stanzaInto sentence and into rhymeThey yearn for me to use themEach and every oneGolden nuggets brought forthFrom beneath chewed pencils and smudgy pensThey leap and jump at my command(And sometimes of their own free will) We - The Words and I -Carve out our dance floor together.
Arietta Bryant (c) 03/10/14
October 1, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 2
2nd October - In the UK today is National Poetry Day and the theme is "Remember"
Remember!
Waking from dream sleepFractured memories I keepThey flit and fly, like darting bugsGlowing dots in darkening fogA metronomic tap, tap, tapThe nagging sense of almost knowingAlmost rememberingAlmost forgettingI blink and clear the sleepy hazeAnd with each blink so die the wavesOf hidden images and scenesThe things I see within my dreams
(C) Arietta Bryant
#octpowrimo#thinkofapoem#npdlive
September 30, 2014
October Poetry Writing Month - Day 1
1st October...
Just past midnight the clock is chimingI am still awake, my cogs are not unwindingSo tightly wound by a busy dayI feel they will never be the same
I close my eyes, I lie in bedBut cannot quiet my chatting headJust as I think I'm beginning to quietWhen once again I sit up, too wired
So out and down the stairs I creepPast my children, fast asleepI tip toe softly down the hallInto the garden where moonlight calls
I stand with bare feet on chilly stoneFeeling connected, no longer aloneI breathe, my pulse begins to slowThoughts come to my mind, but I just let them go
I offer a prayer to my moonlit GodsI turn from the garden and back to the house I plodSleep is now stalking me, close at my heelsI climb into bed and I feel no more ills
(C) Arietta Bryant 2014
#OCTPOWRIMO
Just past midnight the clock is chimingI am still awake, my cogs are not unwindingSo tightly wound by a busy dayI feel they will never be the same
I close my eyes, I lie in bedBut cannot quiet my chatting headJust as I think I'm beginning to quietWhen once again I sit up, too wired
So out and down the stairs I creepPast my children, fast asleepI tip toe softly down the hallInto the garden where moonlight calls
I stand with bare feet on chilly stoneFeeling connected, no longer aloneI breathe, my pulse begins to slowThoughts come to my mind, but I just let them go
I offer a prayer to my moonlit GodsI turn from the garden and back to the house I plodSleep is now stalking me, close at my heelsI climb into bed and I feel no more ills
(C) Arietta Bryant 2014
#OCTPOWRIMO
October Poetry Writing Month
1st October...
Just past midnight the clock is chimingI am still awake, my cogs are not unwindingSo tightly wound by a busy dayI feel they will never be the same
I close my eyes, I lie in bedBut cannot quiet my chatting headJust as I think I'm beginning to quietWhen once again I sit up, too wired
So out and down the stairs I creepPast my children, fast asleepI tip toe softly down the hallInto the garden where moonlight calls
I stand with bare feet on chilly stoneFeeling connected, no longer aloneI breathe, my pulse begins to slowThoughts come to my mind, but I just let them go
I offer a prayer to my moonlit GodsI turn from the garden and back to the house I plodSleep is now stalking me, close at my heelsI climb into bed and I feel no more ills
(C) Arietta Bryant 2014
#OCTPOWRIMO
Just past midnight the clock is chimingI am still awake, my cogs are not unwindingSo tightly wound by a busy dayI feel they will never be the same
I close my eyes, I lie in bedBut cannot quiet my chatting headJust as I think I'm beginning to quietWhen once again I sit up, too wired
So out and down the stairs I creepPast my children, fast asleepI tip toe softly down the hallInto the garden where moonlight calls
I stand with bare feet on chilly stoneFeeling connected, no longer aloneI breathe, my pulse begins to slowThoughts come to my mind, but I just let them go
I offer a prayer to my moonlit GodsI turn from the garden and back to the house I plodSleep is now stalking me, close at my heelsI climb into bed and I feel no more ills
(C) Arietta Bryant 2014
#OCTPOWRIMO
February 3, 2014
Approaching Epona
Alongside my personal projects (finding a suitable illustrator for "Little Lizzy Witch", finishing the first draft of "A Magickal Scrapbook" and constantly refining the "Tarot of the Yellow Brick Road") I have been busy with several small collaborative writing projects.
One of the most exciting and challenging of these has been the Naming the Goddess Project.
Organised by Trevor Greenfield for Moon Books (an imprint of John Hunt Publishing) the project invited authors to submit essays on various Goddesses and I was selected to write about Epona.
Epona has been a part of my life for more about 10 years now but my personal relationship with her has always been more instinctual than intellectual and so the challenge for me, with this project, was to bring more history to the article and less personal, emotional, stuff. This was hard to do especially when I think about the first time I "saw" her...
I attend a twice annual Pagan camp and part of this camps tradition is to perform a ritual to Epona, at dawn, on the Saturday. Now I am not known for my early rising and so had not really expected to be awake at 4 in the morning to take part, but as it happens I didn't need to be…
Around 4 am I was laying in my sleeping-bag, asleep but I became aware of a distant drumming and although I remained in my tent I saw in my minds eye, a rolling fog coming towards my tent, across the field, and in this fog were the images of pale coloured ponies. The drumming became louder and I realised that it was the sound of galloping hooves. Suddenly they were surrounding me and I seemed to be outside with them. A woman, made of the same grey mist as the horses, held her arms open to me in a welcoming gesture, she seemed to be waiting for me to say something but as I went to speak the vision cleared, I was back in my tent, in my sleeping bag and I could hear the ritualists finishing up outside and chatting as they moved back to their own tents to make breakfastor grab a few more hours sleep.
You can read more about Epona and other Goddess in "Naming The Goddess" coming 2014
https://www.facebook.com/NamingTheGod...
'Naming the Goddess' is a new community book from Moon Books featuring contributions from over 75 writers. Part 1 features a series of critical essays discussing contemporary Goddess issues. Part 2 is a Spiritual Gazetteer of over 60 popular Goddesses. 'Naming the Goddess' will be published in 2014.
