April is for fools - and poets
Redundant truths
In case you didn’t know April is National Poetry (Writing) Month and since we live in the era where everything of meaning is only real if it brings social media fame, this month comes with its own hashtags: #napowrimo, #NationalPoetryMonth, #napomo !
But since it’s as worthy a cause as any, I’m trying to fulfill this promise to myself and to poetry’s true purpose (i.e., free the poet — ask me about that another time) by writing more…well…poetry.
Here’s a simple poem on my insane attraction to color. It came to me and goes with a previous post Springing Color, where I shared my photos:
Color
Red. I think of color, I think of red
and blue, yellow and green…
These persistent attention magnets!
My eyes eager mirrors, electric channels
of transport for nature’s primary palette
*
I make a terrible walking companion
compelled to stop at every color sight
Sometimes tidepools with anemone huddles
more often a mere reflection of
fallen leaves in streetside puddles
*
Clearer minds have indeed enquired
why I don’t favor a simpler display?
like classic beauty of black and white?
Yet even in gray I’ll notice the blues,
a hint of dogged purple, varied violet hues
*
I had a thought to capture what I see with paint
I tried it once but the colors emerged faint
Couldn’t reimagine what I saw alive
As if in arriving rebirthed on canvas
somehow some life escaped
*
Then the camera came into service
Fomented its own kind of discontent
Where each photo stared back duller
insipid tints taunting this eye, forcing
a digital brush to augment color
*
Wonder if my eyes carry a mutation
that reflect deeper, brighter veins
or this brain over processes all inputs
unveiling, uncovering hidden hues
like covert truths, I’m not supposed to
*
Keeping me perpetually questioning
in wonderment, perhaps that’s my road
Noticing, noting, never missing every red,
blue, or interspersed tint
seizing snapshots on life’s technicolor film
*
-Reena
PS. On my last poem, A gaggle of boys I failed to add the voiceover audio before the emails went out. It’s on the post now, in case you prefer listening.
As a bonus, here’s a lovely interview with a poet that’ll make you smile…
Extra!
An illuminating essay about the power of prayer and it’s disruptive mechanism in calming the mind. I know what you may be thinking: isn’t she an atheist? I am, and remain unable to believe in concepts like god, but what’s on offer here is different. Yes, who knew?!
No matter your inclination or philosophical framework, this essay will make you think about why prayer works. While radical atheists may reject this outright - and I was no different in my youth (long story for another time) - there’s incontrovertible evidence that people find peace and a cure for their existential anxieties in all forms of spiritual practice: meditation, yogic breathing/ humming, chanting, religious singing, prayer, etc. There are deep psychological roots for the positive effects observed. And the essay offers a unique way of understanding why and how it works… Make of it what you must. Meanwhile, stay open, stay truthful, stay calm.
“ I tried it once but the colors emerged faint
Couldn’t reimagine what I saw alive
As if in arriving rebirthed on canvas
somehow some life escaped” - I know that feeling. Lovely poem!
"Nature's primary palette" has a Emily Dickinson ring to it!