Not Otter Nonsense

Good day to all! (It's actually nearly 1 am here, but oh well.) I was doodling a lot yesterday, trying to get the perfect drawing (still haven't found it!) and finally felt comfortable enough to use my watercolours. This is an otter!  And it represents me! Isn't that just adorable? Unless you hate otters, in which case.. Sorry? I'm not really an otter, if that helps? (Do you like tigers?)

Uh, but Kerridwen!! I hear you exclaim. Your blog is called The Tiger's Sterne! Explain please?

Yes, yes I shall. You see, I have quite an unusual name. This name has a rather long meaning behind it,  it's all Welsh legends and stories - often with the name being spelt 'Ceridwen'. Well, in pretty much all version of the stories,  Ceridwen gets a bit annoyed with someone and chases him, at one point turning herself into an otter. Voila.

Here's the wiki entry on Ceridwen if you want a better explanation.

My kingdom for a horse..?

I hope to update the blog in the upcoming week. In the meantime, here's a horse, playing what I hope looks like a banjo. Enjoy!

Poetry For The Homesick

So it's already a week since I wrote my last NaPoWriMo poem, and I'm already relapsing back into, well.. nothing! I will try working on my poems but I do need a bit of time to read them with a fresh mind. I do not, however, want to let this blog become silent again! So tonight I have a poem for you. Not a poetry challenge one, just a regular poem.

Poetry For The Homesick

Love Song of a City I Hate

Ireland was a welcome breath

After months of stifled air all around.

The river was my water and the

Irish sun stretched my roots.

The dark side to this growth

Was a previously unknown side effect.

Not advertised on the mountains.

After three days of life

The return was unavoidable.

Then the problems start - allergies.

A side effect of Wicklow, 

the river Liffey and Irish air.

I was allergic to you.

My love, my life.

We've had our problems, I've

Loved and hated you,

But I can't see me living without

You.

And now, now I cannot stand this

This staleness, this asphyxiation.

You never let me grow, you

Never let me live freely.

With you here I am chained to the past.

You bring up past mistakes and

Never let me move forward.

I thought we were happy together

I thought you'd help me become

A better version of myself.

But now it all feels like lies.

You bombard me with gifts

Dinners and love songs.

Until you tear me apart over

Last year's fight.

I don't want to leave you -

I've loved you so long.

But I need my space and

I need a future.

You play me sweet sounds by the river

Melodies of my past melancholies.

Even your music is in the past.

I want to follow the river and see

New things, feel new emotions

But you keep dragging me back

Drowning me.

Please, can we put the past behind

And keep it behind?

I miss your sunny laughter and

Song birds.

Now you're all noise and dust

Crowding and 

I

Can't

Breathe.

It can all be alright

I still hope and believe.

But you must let me breathe.

Lead me to your mountains

So I can fall in love again.

#24 - Sleep Pyramid

My attempt at an ethere.. Sleep eludes me mostly because I don't go to bed at regular times.. oops..

--

Sleep

Eludes me

More, these days.

My dreams last longer

When the morning arrives, fast.

Suddenly I am comfortable and cosy,

Now I really could sleep for hours!

Alas! My alarm clock simply does not agree.

I moan and sigh and toss and turn, groggily.

"I should go to bed earlier!" I promise and fail.

#23 - Blue Mountains (A Triolet)

Attempt at a triolet, a form which I find difficult but want to be better at. Prompt here.

The mountains stretch across the land

The river's mouth amongst the clouds

I wish that I could understand

The mountains. Stretch across the land,

Blue mountains upon where you stand,

Safe from the problems and the crowds.

The mountains stretch. Across the land,

The river's mouth, amongst the clouds.

#22 - Difference

Used this prompt again. I love languages, so this prompt appeals to me!

違い

Auttakaa minua!

I cannot travel

This road alone.

Regarde le ciel.

Grey like the eyes

Of your long-lost friend.

Så sorgligt.

Vieni con me

To the land of secrets

Behind the sléibhte.

There, I know,

Hides your truth.

Perhaps even the door of

حب

#21 - Erasure

For this poem I used the 'erasure' prompt from NaPo. Can you guess which poem I used? 

Erasure

Breeding lilacs, mixing

Memory with spring rain.

Covering life with

A shower of sunlight

And coffee.

Children out on a sled, frightened

In the mountains.

You cannot say where the sun beats the dry stone.

There is something different from

Your shadow at morning

Or at evening, rising in a handful of dust.   

       

Hyacinths

Speak, and knew nothing. 

Light, silence.  

 

Cold pearls I do not find  

Under the fog 

In your garden.

Poem used: 'The Wasteland' by T.S. Eliot. 

#20 - I Wandered Lonely As A Pillow

A silly poem inspired by Absolute Radio's task of the night: Replace a word of a song with 'pillow'. I did it with a poem.. 

I Wandered Lonely As A Pillow

I wandered lonely as a pillow

That floats upon the bouncy sheets,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of soft and squishy cushions.

Beside the bed, against the wall

A pile of them, a pile so tall.

I wandered lonely as a pillow

Amongst a crowd and pile of cushions.

#19 - The Secret of The Blue Mountains

Attempt at a prose poem. Ireland, again..

Blue mountains spread in the distance,

a place where the keys are hiding. Silently

I watch them. They stretch under the sun and

under rolling clouds, puffed with pride. There

I feel your presence would be felt, and I wish

I could travel the earthy paths too, smelling the

Fresh grassy air and touching skies. I'd pick a

wildflower and examine it in my palm.

I'd let the wind tangle my hair. I couldn't go, though,

and it remains a mystery to me, much information

waiting to be uncovered. I couldn't fix it, yet.

#18 - Ireland Arrival

Today I came back from my weekend in Ireland. I hope to get a few more poems from that experience, but here is one for now.

Éire, we're here, breathing 

Cobalt breeze. The mountains

Stretch under the sun.

Sléibhte Chill Mhantáin.

Sun in our eyes as we

Drive to our temporary homes.

The streets are quiet -

Sound of wind. 

Wicklow peeking behind rows

Of tidy silent houses.