Tree change in Murch.: April 2016

Saturday, 30 April 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016

April came, April is gone

Each day a prompt was challenging us

To push us to unknown places

Exploring light and dark corners of our mind

Mapping new lanes, new circuits

Meeting new names, new friends

Greeting old ones

Leaving messages, tags

Crying, laughing, giggling together

Reading a glut of poems

Writing a trickle of them

It was a swell month

We had a marvellous time

In this creative tank that is TSL

Amazing by its freedom and support

The excuse was NaPoWriMo

May is coming, but I won't forget

Thank you to all,

So proud of you, I love you.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWriMo 2016

Wednesday, 27 April 2016

Nursery rhyme

One, two, three

I play with thee

Four, five, six

There's nothing to fix

Seven, eight, nine

Just be genuine

Ten, eleven, twelve

Are you afraid to delve ?

What is more innocuous

Than a nursery rhyme

To help a child to count?

So tell me why

You're sobbing on my shoulder

All of a sudden?

One, two, three

I had to flee

Four, five, six

Check the appendix

Seven, eight, nine

It's time to dine

Ten, eleven, twelve

Here is the axe helve.

Lucette C. Bailliet

TSL , NaPoWriMo 2016

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Those words

Those words engraved

On your heart

Call to my soul

I do not hear them

Broken free I have

From the hurtful yoke

You imposed on me

For so long

Your lies I accepted

I laughed at your betrayals

I didn't understand

The reason why

We never connected

I was your excuse

To torment them

Now you are old and anxious

Your lovers are gone

The ones you betrayed

Those you lied to

You pretend I'll come back

Keep hoping by all means

Lie to yourself if you need

Wear your mask on ,

Let Death be the one to remove it

Truth or lie do not weigh to her

As long as she gets her man

You may trust her

To wait upon you in that hour.

Lucette C. Bailliet

Sunday, 24 April 2016

Attic

There in a corner of the attic opened to air

Stood old battered suitcases with lots of labels

The birds had been there and left their mark

The rusty locks were difficult to open.

Old books with brittle pages

And photo albums filled them

Black and white pictures of strangers

Stared back at me in old fashion clothes.

Whose are they ? I asked

A bankrupt friend who lost everything

Return from prison was his dream

Obviously, those were his most precious memories

Sadly, he passed away, he committed suicide

Even these were not enough.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWriMo 2016

TSL, roseate sonnet

By the bay

Spring low tide

Children did not hide

It is extremely dangerous to venture alone into the bay

Their pleasurable fun

Fishing in the sun

It is extremely dangerous to venture alone into the bay

Mum was watching

Safety in the making

It is extremely dangerous to venture alone into the bay

The tide turned, speed of a galloping mare

Overtook the group

The mum drowned

The children too disappeared

It is extremely dangerous to venture alone into the bay

For it makes a sad day

The misleading sign!

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL

Tideling

Friday, 22 April 2016

Lying mirror

Alice, Alice

Did you fall thru the mirror?

At what precise moment

Did you realise it was lying?

The world inside was different

From the world outside

It was physically an impossibility

It couldn't be all there

The reflected wood seemed

Somehow so different

Deeper somewhat darker

More tortuous heavier clouds

Rolled in from nowhere

The mirror image was distorted

Don't forget about the Elves' scrying mirror

It is untruthful to the human

Was that mirror magical then?

It is so easy to believe so

I'm afraid the truth is more mundane

From the three dimensional frame

We are living in,

The mirror catches everything in a plane

Depth is missing to the mirror

Now imagine further reduction

To the line it would be pretty busy.

If we go in the other direction

We may imagine that with the gain

Of another direction the image

Would be more spacious

Even going to emptiness

So you were right Alice

The mirror is lying

Not by design simply

By lack of dimension.

Lucette. C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL

Thursday, 21 April 2016

Tag

poetry still

poetry when written

from recipe? Counted words

not syllables constraint and limit the

poetic flow . Only a genius such

as Hugo can soar and escape these

traced fetters in a playful model adding twist

to twist to render the challenge more daunting to

anyone else foolish enough to enter this daft foolhardy scheme

without losing plot or rhythm in order not to bore you

soulful reader to the end of the original script for that is

undeniably the ultimate goal to reach. So reader, time to make

your mind for you are the judge, don't be shy,

what is your verdict ? are we guilty or not

guilty of the unmentionable crime? you should by

now have a good idea on how

to answer either in the positive

or the negative the question

first asked in the

beginning of this

strange odd

poem.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Banter

I am a classy lady

Would you like to play with me?

I will be the huntress

You will be the prey.

The twinkle in your eyes

That just alighted

Better be of fear

Pleasure, of I have not spoken.

You are confused

I do not play straight

Those are my rules.

You hesitate

You are unsure?

You are right,

It might be a roller coaster

You are free to reject the offer.

Regrets you may have

It won't concern me

It's up to you

To play with me or not.

Are you ready?

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL

Glass doors

It was such lovely trip

Everyone involved

Had such a great time

Space, time escaped

The month disappeared

Once again I'm alone

Separated from them

By distance , culture

I still can see them

Through the glass door

Softly ensconced in the golden bubble

That is their internet hangout

Talented, feisty , vibrant

Flirting, playing, poetising madly

The glass door closed behind them

Back home I feel lost

There's nobody

To relate the mad rush

Of limericks fever reached

Each one trying to outrun the other

Just for fun's sake

The glass door is frosted over now

The world has returned

To it's cold and grey tones

I will remember fondly

Thirty days of total madness

NaPoWrimo 2016, TSL.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

30/30 , TSL

Monday, 18 April 2016

Rara Avis

Crawling on their knees

Keeping to the downwind

They keep waiting

With their large cameras

Ready to roll at the first glimpse

Of the fabulous Rara Avis

The mikes switched on

Making sure they won't miss

The mating song

Of the mythical Rara Avis

Devoured by hordes of mossies

They do no dare to swat them

Utter silence is to be observed

If they want to sight

The elusive Rara Avis

They are dreaming

Of the winning fame

Which will claim

Their successful return

Bigger than The Lock Ness

The Rara Avis will bring them

The sun is setting behind the hills

Another day without sighting

Better luck tomorrow

It will be the day for sure.

Lucette C. Bailliet

TSL! 29/30

NaPoWrimo 2016

Sunday, 17 April 2016

The floating iceberg of death

Floating on the iceberg of death

At last I understand life!

When an infant the world is large

Growing up it shrinks all round us

For the simple reason it melts.

During the passing years

New levels are revealed

As we have new experiences

We're too involved to notice

The rapidly disappearing iceberg

Surrounding us

Until we realise

We are running out

Of space and time

We have to answer it's call

And it's time to sink with it

Too late to have any regrets.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

26/30, TSL

Ad infinitum

Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum

Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Ad infinitum Etc.....

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL, 27/30

Saturday, 16 April 2016

Palindrome remix

Pull up! pull up!

Aibohphobia, Anna, avid Diva

Lived on Decaf; faced no devil

I prefer Pi

No lemon, no melon

Did I, I did

"Rum...rum...., ", I murmur

Otto sees ottoman

Madam , dammit I' m mad

Ew! Eat a ewe!

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016,

Palindrome acrostic

TSL, 26/30

Tanka

It rains on the pond

As it rains down your face

But wait they are tears

Fall came he left you behind

Spring will bring him back to you.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWriMo 2016

TSL, Tanka, 25

Friday, 15 April 2016

Walls of sorrow

These walls are built to separate

Divide, keep apart, tear asunder

They are popping up everywhere

Be they in bricks, concrete or wire

They are patrolled day and night

By armed military guards

Not afraid to shoot on sight

And their faithful dogs to attack

"They shall not pass" is their motto

"The enemy is barbaric "

"They're bend on our destruction "

"See the horde of them", they say.

And the borders are closing

And the walls are rising

And the people are still coming

Are still hoping against all odds

That somehow they'll escape

The madness left behind

The walls of sorrow are

Our walls of shame.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016,

TSL, 23/30

Purr, purr

From a nightmare I awake

Full panic, speedy heartbeat

Short, shallow hacked breath

A soft purr, purr

Answers my anxiety attack

All is well, calm down

Purr, purr

Have a few sips of water

It will ease you now

Purr, purr

The knot in my stomach

Unrolls itself

Breath in, breath out

Follow my purrs

Purr, purr

Slowly, so slowly

My breathing slows down

Gets some depths

Purr, purr

So do my heart beats

There you are

It was but a dream

Purr, purr

I will leave you now

Sleep tight.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016, TSL, 24/30

Thursday, 14 April 2016

Joie de Vivre

In the bush

I find myself , talking, singing, laughing

Talking to the sky,

Singing to the sky,

Laughing to the sky,

Talking to the clouds,

Singing to the clouds,

Laughing to the clouds,

Talking to the paddocks,

Singing to the paddocks,

Laughing to the paddocks,

Talking to the dam,

Singing to the dam,

Laughing to the dam,

Talking to the trees,

Singing to the trees,

Laughing to the trees,

Talking to the Roos,

Singing to the Roos,

Laughing to the Roos,

Talking to life,

Singing to life,

Laughing to life,

Talking to nature,

Singing to nature,

Laughing to nature,

Talking to the earth,

Singing to the earth,

Laughing to the earth.

It does not matter

It has no meaning

But I keep vocalising

Making no sense

Nobody hears me

I'm just talking,

I'm just singing,

I'm just laughing.

Ignore me.

Lucette C. Bailliet

TSL, NaPoWriMo 2016, 22/30

The man in Murch.

There was once a man from Murch.

Who was the post master in town

He played a game with the patrons

Of who am I?

For his twin would never leave him in a lurch.

Lucette C. Bailliet

TSL! NaPoWrimo 2016

21/30

Tuesday, 12 April 2016

Saudade

Her voice was rising with the smoke

Of the restaurant patrons

Slowly dispersed by the ceiling fan

In the old district of Lisbon

Paved cobble street,

Grey covered lichen walls

Her lament was unintelligible to me

Though it took me away

From this sad cellar

To the fortress built

A long time ago in Evovra

Built by a knight order

Fighting a lost crusade

In some far away countries

Cell after empty cell

In this endless corridor

Resonated with the vacuum of vigil prayers

Said in the middle of the night

For brothers soldiers souls

Hoping to reach heaven

When the doors of hell

Stood wide open

For killing they had done

In the name of their faith

Forgetting that the slained

Were but brothers too

Praying didn't wash them

From that crime

The low hum of past prayers

Raised slowly in the cold air

Of the ruined chapel

In the glorification

Of a never to be kingdom

It could have been so different.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016,

TSL, 20/30

Paper dolls

Cheap dreams

For a little girl

Cheap dreams

Of dresses aplenty

Cheap dreams

Of easy beauty

Cheap dreams

Of orderly life

Cheap dreams

Of idyllic families

Cheap dreams

Of treasure galore

Cheap dreams

Of exotic adventures

Cheap dreams

Of love stories

That crumbled too easily

A tear here and there

And the dream ended

The girl grew up

The paper dolls

And their glossy lies

Were forgotten.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

19/30, TSL

Of flirtation

It all starts by

An Idle conversation

To spend an instant

Witty and amusing

Is the best of it

Amour, allure and coquetry

Are good ingredients to add

Give it time to let romance

And intrigue develop

With gallantries and invitations

Accompanied by gifts bountiful and generous

Then courting will be pressing to enter

The waltz of a teasing dalliance

Soon followed by secretive outings,

Dates and why not an elopement

To get married at Gretna Green

A cheap way to a wedding

So beware of a few idle words

To spend an instant!

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL, 18/30

Monday, 11 April 2016

Petrichor

I don't know about the smell

Of the rain on the rocks

After a long drought

But imagine the aroma

Of a scanty rain on a paddock

After a relentless Australian summer

Full of roo scats

When the meagre drops barely

Make it to the parched ground

Before evaporating

Filling the air

With a strong musky scent

Conjuring the image of large

Wilder animals prowling on the hunt

Ready to pounce on any prey

Passing by! Luckily for us

In Oz these are kept in Zoos

Behind secure enclosures

We just have to pray

For a heavy downpour to wash

These away and leave

The smell of the eucalyptus

To clear the air and refresh our heads.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016,

17/30 , TSL

Passion fruit

What are the passion fruits

But a sinful bite of heaven?

From the first indecency

Of their sexual display

Immoral that's what they are!

They are a such a provocation

To social manners.

True blue Brits

Won't touch them,

Too exotic for them

Not as bland as good porridge

And don't forget the stink

Nothing honest in that pong

Good enough for the Aussies

Anything goes there

But they'll never cross our shores.

If you, reader, thinks

I'm making this up

Well I'm not

The Brits have rules

For everything including

How to butter a toast!

Back to our heavenly fruit

It's tough luck for the pommies.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo , TSL

15/30

Et tu Brute!

The cry of " et tu Brute"

Still resonates strongly

In the corridors of history

As well as in the party rooms

Of any living democracy

Treason is rampant

Open to any corrupting argument

Loyalty they may claim

To the divine leader

The party had ever had

Together they plunge

Their sharp blades

To save themselves from oblivion

At the next election

The Leader is dead,

Long live the Leader!

The voters are idiots

They just need a new head

Let's them vote for it

Demagogy and democracy

Are two words a world apart.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016,

TSL, 14/30

Private property, keep out

Today the shades of MIALLU were polluted

By the visit of not one , but two lots

Of followers of a False God

The Jehovah's Witnesses

Not only they trespassed on the property

But they lied concerning

The sign clearly visible on the gate

That states "private property, keep out"

They maintained that it didn't apply

To rural properties! Wow!

I don't want to see you,

I deny you the right to pester me.

Not only did you trespass

Could you tell me why

You creeped so slowly

That neither the electronic warning signal

Nor the dog heard you coming

Nice tactic, you are so creepy

We don't want your proselytising muck

Don't we have everyday the proof

That religion leads to violence?

So take note that you are not welcome here

To give us a sermon on how to live

According to your psycho-megalomaniac deity.

Lucette C. Bailliet

13/30 TSL

No prompt

NaPoWrimo 2016

Saturday, 9 April 2016

Albatross

I would spread my wings

Like the Albatross of old

And fly away above the oceans

Leaving behind the continents

I would soar in the storms

Without any respite nor repose

For amusement I would follow

Playing frisky dolphin pods

And disappear on the high horizon

From the deep blue of the South Pacific

To the green waters of the China sea

I would criss cross the milky sky

Listening to the haunting song

Of the humpback whales

Searching for their mates

Once tired I would fold my wings

And rest , rocked gently to sleep

By the swelling waves.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL, 12/30

Prompt : where would you fly?

Fable

Oi, children sit and listen

To the fable of the cul-de-sac.

Once upon a time,

In a far, far away country

War was raging,

The enemy was coming

To kill, destroy and steal.

So the father, the mother

Their three children

Took to the road on foot,

Petrol was rationed

But it didn't matter

For they didn't have a car.

With them they took

Chickens, pigeons and rabbits,

What a normal backyard in suburbia

Would hold at that time,

Stuffed them in big burlap sacs

All alive of course, for once

On the roads of exile ,

Fridges are hard to come by ,

Do you know, children?

It was hard, the children tired easily

The sacs were heavy

Each night, one of the animals

Was served for tucker.

The family was lucky

For the farmers refused to help

The horde of refugees

Descending on them.

The family started to keep guard

During the nights around the sacks,

Hunger is not bound by friendliness.

It was summer, a hot summer

The temperature kept climbing.

One day disaster struck

At the lunchtime rest

All the animals had died

By lack of fresh air

In the big burlap sacs.

All, but one rabbit

A large giant Flanders

It had survived by munching

A hole in the cul-de-sac.

The children named it Fifi

Refused to kill it in order to eat

It was the one that had survived.

They could see people around

Nudging each other looking at Fifi

But the family stood by it day and night.

At each rest Fifi was let out

Of its big burlap sac

And left to jump here and there

It took it no time to find water

It was clever like that .

The planes came

Bombed the bridges in front of them

They had to turn back.

They made it back home

And so did Fifi.

In fact it survived the war.

Why this story, do you ask?

Well, to show you

That if you find yourself in a cul-de-sac

Don't despair and dig a hole.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

10/30 TSL

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Déjà Vus

Week in, week out

The scene repeated itself

Grand-dad was in his cups

Charging with his drawn swords

And throwing empty bottles

Déjà vu

Week in, week out

The scene repeated itself

Dad, venting a frustrating

Day at work, lashing me

With his belt

Déjà vu

Day in, day out

The scene repeated itself

Mental verbal abuse

Of a grown-up bully

Out of control

Pushing buttons

Déjà vu

Day in, day out

The scene repeated itself

Fearing to go home

Where safety was unknown

Trembling to open the door

Déjà vu

Still wondering

If we deserve

The Déjà Vus

To us served.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

9/30 TSL

Murkiness

The night was grey.

The day was grey

Paris had gone grey

Life , too, had turned grey

Murk was all around

You had gone

You had passed away

Lights were subdued

Didn't dare to twinkle

In the wet branches

Nor did the sun

Everything was blanketed

In a rising fog

My heart was bleeding

Into an ever empty bucket

Food didn't make it

To my bloodless lips

Even my sleep was colourless

My drained brain too tired

To care winter was here

The ashes spread on the snow

Melted the footprints into dirty puddles.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL, 8/30

Wednesday, 6 April 2016

Erasure poem

Original text: a practical guide to the teaching of French, Wilga M. Rivers, Oxford university press, 1975, London, p. 44-45

The crossing from bridge to shore, however, will not necessarily late place without encouragement . Many students will remain on the bridge, rather than face the unprotected autonomy of real communication, unless they are given opportunities very early to develop confidence and self reliance through frequent, pleasant incursions into autonomous territory.

" the more daring, he is in linguistic , the more rapidly he progresses." This means that priority must be given to the development of an adventurous spirit in trying to convey one's meaning in the foreign language. How can we develop this necessary confidence and self-reliance? Such activities link listening and speaking , since without ability to comprehend the speech of others communication becomes an uninteresting and frustrating one way street. In some approaches , activities such as those described in this section are the chief preoccupation. Even where this is not so, they must be given time, and place if students are to communicate in uninhibited freedom.

The crossing from bridge to shore,

Many remain on the bridge

Rather than face the unprotected territory.

The more daring, of an adventurous spirit,

Convey confidence, self-reliance

Link without communication

One way-street, time and place

To uninhibited freedom.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

7/30, TSL

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

On the comet tail

They were kissing in the sunset

I only saw skulls shattering to dust

In the eternal explosion of their love

Their kiss turned to ashes

In a blink of an eye

Dispersed by inter sidereal wind

A new comet was born

From their brief union

To carry the news of their passing

Alighting the dark sky behind

The vacuum of their presence

Left our world poorer and greyer

But no one saw it

We had been extinct

By a billion years.

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

7/30

Crunch time

And this was it

Crunch time!

Had to go thru with it

Once the medic

Inserted the epidural needle

The crunching of the spinal bones

The loss of blood pressure

It was too late to recant

She was rolled in the operating theatre

To have an elective Caesarian

No way back , this was crunch time

She had made her mind

Signed the non liability forms of the hospital.

Despite the team of experts

Despite the presence of her beloved

She had given control to others

For better or worse

She was alone

It was crunch time!

Lucette C. Bailliet

NaPoWrimo 2016

5/2016

TSL

Monday, 4 April 2016

Library adventures

NaPoWrimo 2016

Library

Winter night, the wind swirling

Over the town, black clouds

Rolling in, loaded with snow

The library windows alight

A lighthouse in the coming storm

Warm refuge in the torment

The Jungle Book, India calling,

Don Quixote in La Mancha

Fighting the windmills of illusion

La Mandragola in Firenze ,

Stretching limits of old farce

Arthur and his knights

On unsung adventures in Broceliande forest

Or maybe a run with the King's musketeers

After the felon malicious Milady.

But maybe, maybe lose yourself

Follow your heartstrings

Lead you by less travelled lanes

And discover the ancient

Journeys of the Odyssey ,

Eneid, La chanson de Roland,

All epics songs of travelling bards.

Such treasures ,

So many adventures to share

Are to be found on the shelves

Of this temple of words .

Lucette C. Bailliet

5/30 NaPoWrimo 2016

TSL

Saturday, 2 April 2016

Favourite colour?

Ask a blind person

To describe the world around

She might use the sweetness of the orange

Or the sourness of the lemon

The heat of the fire

The cold of the ice

The dry wetness of the snow

The smell of cut grass

The steam of the kettle

To express her perceptions

So asking me my favourite colour

I suddenly become aware

Of my owns limitations

Of the complete spectrum

How many hues, taints, tones

Are invisible to me

Or you for that matter?

Even stretching our senses

We are all still walking

In a dull world of dim light

For we are all blind.

Lucette C. Bailliet

4/30 TSL

NaPoWrimo 2016

Childhood memories

Children playing tag in the street

Laughing,screaming

Running wild after a dog

Fighting the next street kids

How happy they looked

How rough they were

How worldly they seemed

How alive they sounded

To the silent girl

Peeping though the dark foliage

Hidden inside the fragrant hedge

Of blooming lilac at the bottom of the garden

A book in her lap

Her dog crouching at her feet

The garden gate locking them in

Outside life excluded her

Inside was the dreaming world

She created anew everyday

Welcoming her, calling to her

Resonating to her desires,

Once Immersed in it

Only the call to "lunch is ready"

Would bring her back to reality.

Lucette C. Bailliet

3/30 NaPoWrimo 2016, TSL

Autumn 2016

Grapes and figs

For breakfast

Mean only one thing

Autumn is there

With its bounty

Fresh mornings

And cool evenings

Are to look forward to

Already the sky

Has donned

Its baroque robe

The sun has taken

To set in its winter residence

The chimney is ready

To receive its first

Dry wood loads to burn

Stews and spicy soups

Reappear on the menu

Walking shoes are out

Of the cupboard

And exploration is looking

Good for Sundays after lunch

No more prolonged

Afternoon siestas

One is busy to get through

One's tasks to fit in the shorter days

Autumn is there

No doubt about it!

NaPoWrimo . 2/30. TSL

Lucette C. Bailliet