Treasuring Poetry – Meet poet and author Harmony Kent and my review
Posted: September 18, 2021 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Interview, Poetry, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: Author Interview, Book Review, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Robbie Cheadle, Writing to be Read 95 Comments
Today, I am delighted to feature poet and author Harmony Kent as my guest for Treasuring Poetry. I have read one of Harmony’s fictional books and her non-fiction book, Creative Solutions for the Modern Writer: Inspirational Tools to Fire Your Imagination, and they are both excellent. I have read and reviewed her poetry book, Slices of Soul: A Collection of Contemporary Poetry.
Welcome Harmony!
Which of your own poems is your favourite?
VOYAGE
Into the unknown we go
riding the ocean breeze
tacking this way and that
not too concerned with the far horizon
At peace, keeping an eye on the waves
that toss us about now and then
sailing through bright day
and deep dark night
It matters not
what tempest may come
we will weather the storms together
while we wend our way
We’ve lain our course
taken our soundings
and with love at the helm
we’ll keep a steady pace
Call it what you will
scow, skiff, sloop, hulk, schooner, bucket
so long as we caulk the boards and set the stays
we shall not founder
There’s no glory like it
in the heavens or on the Earth
than sailing free into the fire
of the sun as it sets into the glistening sea
What inspired you to write this particular poem?
When I met the love of my life, right away, we both went through some tough personal times. Those hardships brought us closer, and we’ve now been married for two years.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy writing the most and why?
Some form of Haiku, because it forces me write with brevity and choose my words with utmost care.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy reading the most?
As with my writing, my reading is eclectic. I enjoy a broad range of styles and genres.
What is your favourite poem?
Auguries of Innocence by William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
A Dove house filled with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell through all its regions
A dog starved at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State
A Horse misused upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Skylark wounded in the wing
A Cherubim does cease to sing
The Game Cock clipped & armed for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
The wild deer, wandering here & there
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Lamb misused breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be beloved by Men
He who the Ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by Woman loved
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
The Caterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy’s Foot
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth that’s told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent
It is right it should be so
Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Through the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
The Babe is more than swaddling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
This is caught by Females bright
And returned to its own delight
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Soldier armed with Sword & Gun
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Man’s Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mocked in Age & Death
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death
The Childs Toys & the Old Man’s Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
The Questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to Reply
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er Believe do what you Please
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
They’d immediately Go out
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
But no Good if a Passion is in you
The Whore & Gambler by the State
Licenced build that Nations Fate
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England’s winding Sheet
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Dance before dead England’s Hearse
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43650/auguries-of-innocence
Slices of Soul: A Collection of Contemporary Poetry
What Amazon says
Slices of Soul is a collection of contemporary poetry from author Harmony Kent that will both delight and call for deeper reflection. ‘Phantoms’ gives a gritty account of pain that you can never catch. ‘Enough’ expresses the contentment of Zen. ‘Diamonds’ shows the beauty to be found on a drab and rainy day. While ‘The Alchemist’ shows you how a guitar can turn lead into gold. This wonderful arrangement of fifty poems takes you from the abstract of Zen to the melody of music, and will reach into your mind, your heart, and your soul.
My review
Slices of Soul is a compelling and unusual collection of poetry which certainly does give the reader glimpses into the complex soul and unusual life of the poet.
I think it is important to note that the poet spent 13 years living in a Zen Buddhist Temple and that the poems featured in this book were written, during and after this period in her life. I believe that her spiritualism and surroundings had a bearing on the thoughts and ideas expressed through the poems in this book.
The poems are divided into sections: Shaved Head, written during her time at the Zen Buddhist Temple, Short Hair, written during the transitional period of her changing life circumstances, and Long Hair which effectively covers all the remaining sections in the book and were written after she’d adjusted to her new life.
I felt the tone of the poems changed over the course of the book from intense reflections on life, to studies of nature, to fierce expressions of emotion, to gentler articulations of love and contentment.
The two poems that impacted me the most in this collection are from the first two sections of the book, Shaved Hair and Short Hair:
The Path
The ten directions all merge into one
this winding road leads nowhere
and goes straight there
Lost and Found
Deep dark depths
I got lost on purpose
this desolate place
the only way
to get my bearings
Poetry lovers who like poems that make you think about things and see them differently will appreciate this book.
Purchase Slices of Soul
Amazon Author Page Harmony Kent
About Harmony Kent
Harmony Kent is an award winning multi-genre author. Her publications include:
The Battle for Brisingamen (Fantasy Fiction) AIA approved
The Glade (Mystery/Thriller) AIA Approved/BRAG Medallion Honouree/New Apple Literary Awards Official Selection Honours 2015
Polish Your Prose: Essential Editing Tips for Authors (Writing/Editing) New Apple Literary Awards Top Medallist Honours 2015
Finding Katie (Women’s Fiction)
Slices of Soul (Contemporary Poetry)
Interludes 1 & Interludes 2 (Erotic Short Stories)
Moments (Short Stories and Poetry)
Jewel in the Mud (Zen Musings)
Backstage (Erotic Romance)
FALLOUT (Apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic Dystopia) BRAG Medallion Honouree
The Vanished Boy (Psychological Thriller)
As well as being an avid reader and writer, Harmony also offers reviews and supports her fellow authors. Harmony works hard to promote and protect high standards within the publishing arena. She is always on the look out for talent and excellence, and will freely promote any authors or books who she feels have these attributes. Harmony lives in Cornwall, England.
twitter: @harmony_kent
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/HarmonyK
About Robbie Cheadle
Robbie Cheadle is a South African children’s author and poet with 9 children’s books and 1 poetry book.
The 7 Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie has also published 2 books for older children which incorporate recipes that are relevant to the storylines.
Robbie has 2 adult novels in the paranormal historical and supernatural fantasy genres published under the name Roberta Eaton Cheadle. She also has short stories in the horror and paranormal genre and poems included in several anthologies.
Robbie writes a monthly series for https://writingtoberead.com called Growing Bookworms. This series discusses different topics relating to the benefits of reading to children.
Robbie has a blog, https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/ where she shares book reviews, recipes, author interviews, and poetry.
Find Robbie Cheadle
Blog: https://www.robbiecheadle.co.za/
Blog: robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com
Twitter: BakeandWrite
Instagram: Robbie Cheadle – Instagram
Facebook: Sir Chocolate Books
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September Blues
Posted: September 15, 2021 Filed under: Poetry | Tags: Grief. Poetry, Kaye Lynne Booth, Michael Daniel Lee Booth, Poetry, Writing to be Read 8 Comments
September is always a difficult time of year for me. My son, Michael, died in September, two weeks after his nineteenth birthday, so the entire month is filled with thoughts of him, making it not a very happy month for me. I think about the times we had, and the ones we didn’t get to have. I imagine the man he never had the chance to grow into. It has been twelve years since he’s been gone and I’d like to share a poem that I wrote to him back then, a poem that still holds true today. I still miss him so much.
Just One More Time
Just one more time to hug you close.
Just one more time to see your smile.
Just one more time to touch your face.
Just one more time to feel your style.
Just one more time to breathe the scent of your cologne,
Even though it always made me sneeze.
Just one more chance to beg you
To stay and never leave me, please.
Just one more time to hear your voice.
Just one more time to know you’re there.
Just one more time to share a song.
Just one more time to tousle your curly hair.
Just one more time to say, “I love you”
And look into your eyes.
Just one more chance to say how much you mean.
Just one chance to say good-bye.
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The Many Faces of Poetry – Poems In The Afterlife
Posted: September 10, 2021 Filed under: Poetry, The Many Faces of Poetry | Tags: Arthur Rosch, Poetry, The Many Faces of Poetry, Writing to be Read 2 Comments
Everything that happens to me is pure bonus because I took such risks with my life that I shouldn’t be here and be as well as I am. Poems are a way of giving back so much that has been bestowed upon me.
There is a flea that alights on me;
former citizen of dog land
it got lost and is attracted
to my hairy arms.
My first instinct is to crush it
but some fleas are crush resistant and
it is futile to try, so just brush
don’t crush and allow the flea
its tiny attempts at life. Some creatures
are matters of indifference to me
unless they irritate or distract
and that is the flea
whose brotherhood is apparently immortal.
The host, too, is immortal so
there is no way to be rid
of fleas.
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Arthur Rosch is a novelist, musician, photographer and poet. His works are funny, memorable and often compelling. One reviewer said “He’s wicked and feisty, but when he gets you by the guts, he never lets go.” Listeners to his music have compared him to Frank Zappa, Tom Waits, Randy Newman or Mose Allison. These comparisons are flattering but deceptive. Rosch is a stylist, a complete original. His material ranges from sly wit to gripping political commentary.
Arthur was born in the heart of Illinois and grew up in the western suburbs of St. Louis. In his teens he discovered his creative potential while hoping to please a girl. Though she left the scene, Arthur’s creativity stayed behind. In his early twenties he moved to San Francisco and took part in the thriving arts scene. His first literary sale was to Playboy Magazine. The piece went on to receive Playboy’s “Best Story of the Year” award. Arthur also has writing credits in Exquisite Corpse, Shutterbug, eDigital, and Cat Fancy Magazine. He has written five novels, a memoir and a large collection of poetry. His autobiographical novel, Confessions Of An Honest Man won the Honorable Mention award from Writer’s Digest in 2016.
More of his work can be found at www.artrosch.com
Photos at https://500px.com/p/artsdigiphoto?view=photos
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Welcome to the WordCrafter “After the Fires of Day” Book Blog Tour
Posted: September 6, 2021 Filed under: Blog Tour, book marketing, Book Promotion, Book Review, Books, Poetry | Tags: After the Fires of Day, Alphonse de Lamartine, Cendrine Marrouat, Haiku, Kahlil Gibran, Poetry, Poetry Collection, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours 10 Comments
To start off the WordCrafter After the Fires of Day Book Blog Tour, we’ve got an interview with poet and author Cendrine Marrouat and a review of her wonderful poetry collection and tribute to the inspiring poets, After the Fires of Day: Haiku Inspired by Kahlil Gibran & Alphonse de Lamartine. I hope you will all follow the tour this week and visit each of the tour stops to learn more about this inspired this inspired poet who is herself inspiring.
Cendrine Marrouat is a French-born Canadian photographer, poet, and the multi-genre author of more than 30 books. In 2019, she founded the PoArtMo Collective and co-founded Auroras & Blossoms with David Ellis. A year later, they launched PoArtMo (Positive Art Month and Positive Art Moves) and created the Kindku and Pareiku, two forms of poetry.
Cendrine is also the creator of the Sixku, the Flashku, and the Reminigram. Cendrine writes both in French and English and has worked in many different fields in her 17-year career, including translation, language instruction, journalism, art reviews, and social media.
My Interview with author and poet, Cendrine Marrouat
Kaye: What inspired you to create After the Fires of Day: Haiku Inspired by Kahlil Gibran & Alphonse de Lamartine?
Cendrine: My love for the haiku and my passion for the beautiful words of Kahlil Gibran and Alphonse de Lamartine.
I had always wanted to release something similar to After the Fires of Day. I had many ideas. However, a project like this, which pays homage to two literary giants, was tricky and required a thoughtful approach.
At the beginning of my career, I tried to emulate Gibran’s style—to no avail. But it was not a useless pursuit. It taught me important lessons about my own style and how to incorporate emotions in my work.
Emotions is actually the keyword here. In the late 2010s, I had this idea: An author always leaves a part of themselves, their “energy”, in their works. So why not “borrow” that and go from there?
It’s what I did for After the Fires of Day.
Kaye: Why do you think the haiku is such a powerful poetry form?
Cendrine: Many people limit the haiku to its syllable count. Words are treated like an afterthought, when they are actually the most important element of the poem. In North America, the haiku is misunderstood by the general public.
The haiku freezes a scene in time while implicitly revealing its author’s innermost feelings at that precise moment. It is an intimate, albeit complex form of poetry that speaks to the human experience in more ways than one.
To write a memorable haiku, you need to understand: the importance of conciseness and simple language; and how to leverage the seasonal reference (‘kigo’) and “cutting word” (‘kireji’) to evoke a specific mood.
Kaye: What made you choose Kahlil Gibran and Alphonse de Lamartine as sources of inspiration for After the Fires of Day? And for the people who have never read them, is there a specific book or piece of writing you would recommend?
Cendrine: I chose them because everything in their bodies of work inspires me. Their styles and the flow of their words tug at my creative heartstrings and make me want to write.
The Prophet is the best introduction to Gibran’s work. As far as Lamartine is concerned, you should start with his most famous poem, The Lake.
For the people interested in learning more about Gibran and Lamartine, they can visit my blog. I recently ran a mini-series of posts on each writer.
My Review
After the Fires of Day: Haiku Inspired by Kahlil Gibran and Alphonse de Lamartine is both a tribute of admiration to two wonderful poets and a collection of Haikus by Cendrine Marrouat, the expressions of her own unique voice and style of Haiku, in which their inspirations can be seen.
I was familiar with Kahlil Gibran’s work, but Alphonse de Lamartine was new to me. I am thankful to Cendrine Marrouat for the introduction to this poet. The poetic words of Marrouat’s beautiful Haikus bring me back to when I was introduced to the Haiku poetry, in the fourth grade. At that time, I felt that the sheer simplicity of the Haiku was lovely, although my fourth-grade mind didn’t yet understand that it was the ability of the words to capture and conjure a moment in nature so exquisitely that sent so much awe flowing through me.
I’ve included my favorite poem from this collection below. I think this Haiku speaks to me because my son, Michael, was born and died in September and since his death, September has always been a hard month for me to face. Marrouat’s Haiku allows me to look at the month of September with more positivity. The vivid imagery reminds me of what it is like to wait in anticipation of cooler days and fall colors.
Valley sits in gold,
Reflections in water
Welcome September.
While reading the Haiku poetry of Cendrine Marrouat, I couldn’t help but smile as her words summoned vivid images in my mind, which is exactly what a quality haiku should do. I give After the Fires of Day: Haiku Inspired by Kahlil Gibran and Alphonse de Lamartine five quills.
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Day 5 of the WordCrafter “Behind Closed Doors” Book Blog Tour
Posted: August 27, 2021 Filed under: Blog Tour, book marketing, Book Promotion, Book Review, Books, Guest Post, Poetry, Review, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours | Tags: Behind Closed Doors, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Robbie Cheadle, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours Leave a comment
We’re wrapping up the WordCrafter Behind Closed Doors Book Blog Tour over at Zigler’s News with a guest post by poet and author Robbie Cheadle and a review by Victoria Zigler. Please join us to learn a bit more about the author and her book.
http://ziglernews.blogspot.com/2021/08/behind-closed-doors-collection-of.html
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The Many Faces of Poetry – Rust/Untitled/Image
Posted: August 27, 2021 Filed under: Poetry, The Many Faces of Poetry | Tags: Poetry, The Many Faces of Poetry, Writing to be Read 2 Comments
Sometimes I think I’m finished, that the last word has been written, the last kiss has been kissed. Then I tell myself
“Don’t be ridiculous!”. I’m here until I’m not here. Then I’ll be somewhere else, I’m sure of it.
These are recent poems, so recent they’re not even written, or half written.
Rust
How can the world be killed?
Melt the ice caps;
Beauties that we’ve known and loved
will die.
Polar bears will swim to exhaustion,
their cubs will starve.
A beautiful creature is dying,
but is the world dead?
Poach ivory from elephants until
there are no more elephants.
A great and profound beauty is dying.
I feel its death throes in my body, but still
the world can’t die.
There is no end to the world. Perhaps
when a small piece of our planet is murdered,
it diminishes those of us who live in this time,
for we are accomplice to the crime.
I don’t see myself as a world killer.
I see myself as a world maker.
But I can’t stop the tides that are rising,
the beaches that are drowning,
the storms that are raging.
We killed our world for comfort. I did.
You did. I bought into the con
until I saw the contempt in the con.
When I saw the con, I stomped on it like a poisoned artifact.
Earth killer! Murderer! Earth hater!
Is the world dead? It can’t be.
The desolate tide flats where bones show in the mud,
where mangled soldiers lie, where steel and gunpowder
show their leavings. That’s what I see, but that isn’t all
there is to see. Earth still lives.
Untitled
Aug 18 2021
There’s a part of my heart that I’ve never given
because it didn’t exist
until now.
It lives because of you, it was called forth
from my soul’s interior,
a place that yearns to be rid
of the burden of unloved Love.
It is the love that is shaped like you
a burnt silhouette
outlined by my vision
of your love for me.
I want my love for you
to be full like the orange moon
behind smoky clouds
to be full like a dark sky of stars
to be full like only a starving spirit
can ever know to be full.
Image
August 19 2021
Image: woman weeps over body of loved one.
On her knees, she rocks back and forth, hands clasped
The film is silent, black and white
but I can hear
grief, agony of heart and flesh.
Image: child running down a road in terror
fleeing the bombs, the thunder and flames running.
Image: men holding onto the fence
of their prison, drained of life and hope.
Image: mass graves filling as soldiers
toss bodies, casual
as farmers disposing of chaff.
Image: as camps are liberated
prisoners barely able to walk
to their freedom.
Image: filmed from bombers, napalm cannisters
topple end over end
incinerating jungle canopy and all beneath.
Image: B17 over Germany loses its wing
tumbling. No parachutes.
Image: There is nothing
I’ve seen the images
thousands of times
I rock in my chair before the screen
Image image image image
My eyes have become two people
each one has a mind
Their minds are pasted in surrounding spheres
of image.
I choose to sit here
and partake of the images
I choose, I’m just a modern person
I live my life on the ordinary street
safe for now from everything
but image.
before everyone knew
Image would wrap the world
Engulf and change our history,
turn it from experience into Image,
leaving us to feel
just a bit hollow
even though we are filled beyond satiation
with Image..
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Day 4 – WordCrafter “Behind Closed Doors” Book Blog Tour
Posted: August 26, 2021 Filed under: Blog Tour, Book Covers, book marketing, Book Promotion, Book Review, Books, Guest Post, Poetry, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours | Tags: Behind Closed Doors, Book Review, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Robbie Cheadle, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours 1 CommentDay 4 of the WordCrafter Behind Closed Doors Book Blog Tour finds us over at Miriam Hurdle’s Showers of Blessings blog site with a guest post by author and poet Robbie Cheadle and a lovely review of Robbie’s latest book, Behind Closed Doors, a collection of unusual poetry. Drop in and learn more about this fascinating poetry collection and its author.
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Day 3- WordCrafter “Behind Closed Doors” Book Blog Tour
Posted: August 25, 2021 Filed under: book marketing, Book Promotion, Books, Guest Post, Poetry, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours | Tags: Behind Closed Doors, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Robbie Cheadle, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours 2 CommentsFor Day 3 of the WordCrafter Behind Closed Doors Book Blog Tour we’re over at This is My Truth Now with James Cudney and a guest post from author and poet, Robbie Cheadle and a wonderful review of Behind Closed Doors. Please join us to learn more about this author and her wonderful poetry collection.
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Day 2 – WordCrafter “Behind Closed Doors” Book Blog Tour
Posted: August 24, 2021 Filed under: Blog Tour, book marketing, Book Promotion, Book Review, Books, Guest Post, Poetry, Review, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours | Tags: Behind Closed Doors, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Robbie Cheadle, WordCrafter Book Blog Tours 12 CommentsDay 2 of the WordCrafter Behind Closed Doors Book Blog Tour brings us another wonderful guest post by author and poet Robbie Cheadle and a review by DL Mullen. After you enjoy the guest post below, please pop on over to DL Mullen’s Undawnted blog site to check out her review:
http://www.undawnted.com/2021/08/wordcrafter-blog-tour-robbie-cheadles.html
Behind Closed Doors, a collection of unusual poems blog tour – Day 2
Do you want it enough? is a freestyle poem I wrote while contemplating why it is that some people and/or poets are prolific and manage to get a number of books, short stories and/or poems published while others don’t. It is not a question of talent generally, as many writers and poets who don’t publish their work are incredibly talented.
So what holds some writers and poets back?
This poem captured my ultimate view that it depends on the determination, resilience, and drive of the person in question. Publishing a book or any other work is a massive effort and requires numerous re-writes and edits. Once that process is complete, there is still the typesetting and final proofing phase to undergo before you can hit the publish button.
I also believe that there must be an acceptance that a piece of work will never be completely perfect. I have realised that I must accept a 96% perfection level in order to get a book finalised for printing and publishing. No matter how hard I try or how many times I read my work and get other people to read it and edit it for me, I always find a few typos and punctuations after the book has gone live. That is that nature of writing and is almost impossible to avoid. The fact that I detect typos and errors in traditionally published books gives me some comfort in this respect.
These ideas of mine resulted in the following poem.
Do you want it enough?
You tell me you want
Your time in the sun
To dance in the light
That reflects off your fame
Do you really want it?
Do you want it enough?
To give up the good things
Like relaxation and rest
Sleeping late in your bed
Toasty and warm
Are you sufficiently mesmerised
By the task to hand
To trade pleasure for work?
And sit in your office,
Juggling ideas and possibilities,
While your friends watch movies,
Eat out, drink, and socialise
Spending their weekends
Having a jolly good time
Can you be disciplined and sit
At a computer for hours
Tapping out words
While creating worlds
Actions and events
That form themselves into stories?
Will you watch
The world passing by
Through the glass of your window?
While you pursue the fantasy
You hope to achieve,
Knowing there are no guarantees
Few things in this life
Come without paying a price
And the tag accompanying fame
And its bedfellow fortune
Is always high
Taxing time and good health
With no assured return
Are you ready to exchange
Your freedom and pleasure
For the discipline required
To chase that elusive light?
If you prefer to listen to me reading this poem, you can find it on my Youtube Channel here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEXJnzzMYZo
What are your thoughts on perfection in publishing and the road to publication? Let me know in the comments.
Book blurb
What goes on behind closed doors: in the boardroom, after death, in the home, during lockdown, and in nature? This collection of poems, ranging from rhyming verse to twisted nursery rhymes, captures the emotions and thoughts people hide behind the masks they present to the world.
What thoughts are hidden
Behind her immobile face
Quite expressionless
Eyes cold and indifferent
Scrutinising me – hawk like
This book includes some of Robbie Cheadle’s spectacular fondant art and cakes.
Robbie Cheadle author bio
Robbie Cheadle is a South African children’s author and poet with 9 children’s books and 1 poetry book.
The 7 Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie has also published 2 books for older children which incorporate recipes that are relevant to the storylines.
Robbie has 2 adult novels in the paranormal historical and supernatural fantasy genres published under the name Roberta Eaton Cheadle. She also has short stories in the horror and paranormal genre and poems included in several anthologies.
Robbie writes a monthly series for https://writingtoberead.com called Growing Bookworms. This series discusses different topics relating to the benefits of reading to children.
Robbie has a blog, https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/ where she shares book reviews, recipes, author interviews, and poetry.
Social Media Robbie Cheadle
Robbie Cheadle
Website
https://www.robbiecheadle.co.za/
Blog
https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
TSL Books Author Page
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15584446.Robbie_Cheadle
Purchase links
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09BBR94NC
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Behind-Closed-Doors-Robbie-Cheadle/dp/B099C8R3T4
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Treasuring Poetry – Meet poet Leon Stevens and book review
Posted: August 21, 2021 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Humor, Poetry, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: Book Review, Leon Stevens, Lines by Leon, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read 27 Comments
Today, I am delighted to host artist, poet and author, Leon Stevens.
Which of your own poems is your favourite?
Wow. Starting off with the hardest question…I have written about many aspects of my existence, but I think some of the poems about ego and human nature are my attempt at understanding why people act the way they do. I still don’t get why some people are jerks.
Ego (Part II)
An ego is a big cat
That needs to be stroked
By you or someone else
Smaller cats are easy to please
And the bigger the cat
The more dangerous it is
To rub the wrong way
What inspired you to write this particular poem?
I wrote a series of poems about ego after spending some time observing how people interact with each other as individuals jockey for position within a group. While they do that, they seek affirmation to justify their perception of themselves. There are positives to egos, but if an ego is too aggressive, it can leave you rolling your eyes and shaking your head.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy writing the most and why?
I don’t set out to write any particular form of poetry. Usually, as the words come to me, they will dictate how the poem will manifest itself. This leads to some erratic rhyming and rhythmic patterns, but often I find that a well-placed, unexpected rhyme can have a powerful effect.
My poems tend to be short—no more than a page—often 4-6 lines. They are like a snapshot of a moment or experience rather than a slideshow or movie.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy reading the most?
I honestly do not read a lot of poetry. Maybe it is a way not to be influenced, which I hope makes my own poetry unique. I do follow many blogs that feature poetry, so most of what I do read comes from those sites.
I grew up with my father reading the poems of Robert Service. The Cremation of Sam McGee Is one that has always stuck with me (Dad had it memorized along with many others). It is a tale set during the Klondike gold rush which has a humorous, macabre twist.
The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursèd cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ’tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Poem credit: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45081/the-cremation-of-sam-mcgee
Book review: Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures
My review
Every now and then you discover a book of poetry which has you nodding your head in agreement and identifying with the views of the poet. For me, this was one of those books. Leon Stevens has an unerring way of aiming a poetic arrow straight at the heart of a difficult issue and exposing it for exactly what it is. This exposure is done with great dry wit, but it is nevertheless, brutally honest and truthful.
The poems in this book cover an array of topics including, inter alia, the poets personal viewpoints on specific matters, environmental experiences, the human conditions and how we relate with others, people and places, and ponderance and muse. There is a sprinkling of the poet’s own sketches throughout the book, and these, complement the humour and the simple, straightforward messages woven into these compelling poems.
This poem, called The Tendency to Cluster, was my personal favourite in this collection and demonstrates the points I’ve mentioned above:
People like orbs
Drawn by gravity
Unable to exist alone
Each dependent on the orbits of others
The only thing that keeps them
From being flung away
Needing others to define them
Needing to know
The quantum state of others
There are people
Content with singularity
In the colder outer regions
Emptiness brings strength, warmth, life
Occasional objects pass
Piquing curiosity
Worthy to share space (for a while)
Mostly continuing alone
Comfortable that orbits won’t decay
If you enjoy poems that speak clearly and simply about important matters, then you will enjoy this collection. Even if you don’t share the poet’s viewpoint, these poems will still make you think deeply.
Purchase Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures
About Leon Stevens
Leon Stevens is a writer, composer, guitarist, songwriter, and an artist, with a Bachelor of Music and Education. He became a writer out of necessity. Along with song writing, poetry has allowed him to make sense and accept events and situations in his life. He published his first book of poetry: Lines by Leon – Poems, Prose, and Pictures in January 2020, a book of original classical guitar compositions, and a collection of science fiction short stories called The Knot at the End of the Rope and other Short Stories. Visit www.linesbyleon.com for free sample eBooks.
