For ‘The POET By Day ~ Jamie Dedes ~ Wednesday Writing Prompt ~ There is Someone…

writers desk

Share with us the poet in non-ordinary reality, the doorways that lead from the physical to the spiritual. 

There is someone who talks to me
And keeps me waiting-
If only I could see The Spirit
Which I feel close by, yet so far

A bar on thoughts and actions,
I cannot think because my mind is quiet
And not moving or stirring
Lest the sweet words of The Spirit
May not find their way in-
And I may crush the tender layer thin

In between which keeps us bound,

I cannot let go the joy
I have found in my heart
at hearing the mellifluous melody
of the affectionate aura around,

which seeps into my soul to make peace
and washes smoothly away the tears
and the fears so deep,
I can now sleep with ease

For I cannot speak of the
Good Night Prayer

That descends in time so rare
my soul, to repair

And I cannot say that if I wake
Life may be like a snow flake
White and pure and sure, as
The Angels will come to Heaven, take.


For The Poet By Day ~ Wednesday Writing Prompt ~ MAY 23, 2018 ~ JAMIE DEDES ~ It Comes From The Unseen Source ~

Tell us how you receive and experience your own poetry as an unexpected visitor, a surprise perspective or observation, a gift, or as a mystical thing … perhaps even as an occasional inconvenience.


Words and thoughts  felt in transparency, unknown, unseen,
senses benumbed, as vision scans nature’s  changing vapors
against a canvas, bordered by shivering trembling green leaves
of stretching, bound, firmly rooted growth, shaping into one
strong trunk…strange is the form yet studded with beauty …

as feather like as water drops, soft, in feeling, a medium,
which passes through, touching the body soul and spirit
breaking the trance to discover, an idea ‘arranging deepening’
in the mind, revealing a song’ or a story’ or poetic drama’
so ‘poetry should be naturally expressed’ though along the way-

‘there are places that beckon us to stop or warn that these lines
are true,these thoughts good, let the words flow’, in early drafts
don’t try to control the poem’, feel free to alter the facts’,yes,it is
easy then, but it is work, hard work, the idea comes from the unseen
it is then from ‘me ‘ to something real outside ‘ in order, to craft’

sometimes it is Light’ spreading gold in the sky on hills and land
cutting darkness to glory divine’ when green goes dark looks grand
mind stirs wonders eyes gather images and thoughts seek words
to amalgamate colors, beauty serene, majestic mystical  hills of sand
who made them? how much more beauty must be in His Domain !

2014-03-06 17.23.11
a poem can be, just be, it comes in moments, in time, at night
sometimes nothing descends for days, nothing inspires, a lone
still, lifeless object, may strike the soul, yet it all is formed only
when the mind in its richness of  language receives the ‘order’
‘a divine gift ‘it is as poets have revealed in the past across ‘border’

Mirza Ghalib wrote’

Aate HaiN Ghaib Se Yeh MazameeN Khayal MeiN
Ghalib Sarir-e Khamah Nava-e Sarosh Hai

 When mysteriously topics or subjects come in ones thoughts,
Then the sound made by the pen, resonates like the voice or sound of angles.

and so it is for me…

NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 19 ~ Remember The Adventures ?

Today we challenge you to write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even gives directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem.


river bank

Paragraph Prompt 
Remember the famous adventures where sitting by the river bank with her older sister, finding her sister’s book has no pictures or conversation and thus holds no interest for her,suddenly a white rabbit…oh no there are white birds, some flying some perched on the bending trees by the bank…from time to time the birds cause ripples in the lazily flowing river, patches of green look like green square pastries bordered with brown cream and icing.


Remember the adventures
by the river bank,when the
book we were trying to read
fell in the water and sank.

I wonder what interest my 
sister had,with no pictures
or dialogues the book was
dull boring and so blank…

restless were the birds white
they would rather enjoy the 
flight, low over the water or
high by the tree, in  sunlight

I too slipped behind the white
screen in a dream I was a pencil
writing a poem and eating cake
with green sponge icing and cream

I in a world of words and rhymes
could hear the poetic rhythms and
chimes, thirty in all I have to make
would I be able to with tea n cake?



NAPOWRIMO 2018~Day 9 ~ When I killed a Bee …

We challenge you today to write a poem in which something big and something small come together. Happy writing!

Image result for buzzing bee

Nothing is either big or small but by comparison
so wrote Jonathan Swift, about dwarfs ‘n giants

ants met the grasshopper the lion met the mouse
Swift became a giant only when he left his house

I was feeling quite alright till I heard n saw the bee
I felt afraid n so small, she looked bigger than me

she buzzed so loud and buzzed around the bulb
I stared and stared n prayed n took a fearful gulp’

O Allahji  please hear n help, You know I am all alone
What if she dived, bit and stung me deep in the bone ?

Allah Most Gracious Most Merciful as Always, Hears’
sincerely  pray, ten times He Helps n removes all fears

my gaze fixed my soul in prayer upright I sat upon the bed
seconds later the bee fell ‘zzzzzzz’thup’,on the floor, dead.

I sat and thought about my fears and strengths,
as the night slowly drifted away to its dark ends.







Image Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

NAPOWRIMO 2018 ~ Day 8 ~ Ode To The Haunting Image’ ~

Let’s take a leaf from Shelley’s book, and write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Your poem could take the form of a spell, for example, or simply describe an event that can’t be understood literally. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange. Poetry is like that ….



O’ Thou Mystic Celestial Skull, suspended in the vast boundless mysterious canvas, white and blue –
Death seems to follow thee with fears haunting
Or pallor grips you for painful loss of lover true-

what treasures awoke thy spirit up high,what coffins
broke to release thy head, the body buried in Earthly
pyramid  tombs, never engaged in secret battles nor
‘ever caused a rattle, nor rain skeletal scorpions,

Suspended in the boundless unknown dome
filled or empty or left open as  the deserted path
I wait and wonder, what engages your sockets?
invisible to me you see what voices you hear?

Tell Me is war visible ? clouds of murky dust rising,
children bleeding crying running, bodyless like you
silently succumbing to shot and shrapnel, carried –
what trophies may win the killer’s bullets surprising.

the ground looks green and trees appear tall
and rivers flow flooded and fields full harvests
grow mountains rise strong tops shine with snow
people are happy and not lying as homeless pests?

No but you will not say for I know what’s there
here and everywhere, that is what robbed you
of health and heart and body too, and now your
spirit roams soulless aimless helpless with despair

and I a mourning  poet with words n verses weak,
peace love courage forbearance patience seek
may fiery dragons come flying in, unicorns rush to
waste wilderness clear, with weeping flowers sweep.

NAPOWRIMO ~ 2018 ~ Day 11 ~ Mind In Itself Is An Unseen Thing…

Write a poem that addresses the future, answering the questions “What does  y(our) future provide? What is your future state of mind? If you are a citizen of the “union” that is your body, what is your future “state of the union” address?”  Happy writing!



What can the future give? who can see, who has ever seen?
mind in itself is an unseen thing, caged, alive,coiling grey
not green, green is the thing or blue, like a rainbow rare,
who can see the Earth where mankind resides with care

careless,  fearlessly eats beats cheats, competes, defeats
seeks power, animal like, makes weapons guns and war
hungry angry loud, I have not seen a mind uncoiled  soft
in speech body and thought, what future mind may bar?

what state of fate may occur in deceit rampant,hatred
profound, killing continuous no reason given,lawless
stabbing firing bombing raping shooting kidnapping
what present love is like ? is work for peace, all dead? 

I may dream of colors bright, in future pure delight
mind in meditation, grace in knowledge drenched light
Truth is the Yellow Brick Road,reality the experience
Future is sacred, revered with hope, of eternal  peace.

Wait O’ not so innocent rebel,’ thy own mind is Future
isolate not but participate for it is the true ‘future feast’
spirit will be free when sacred becomes the human body
honor the pearl in a shell, King of Oceans like Poseidon be.




For ~ The POET by DAY ~ ‘the republic of innocence, a poem’ . . . Wednesday Writing Prompt ~ A Speck of Dust ~


The Republic of Innocence




I am nothing
I am but a speck of dust
My life my soul my spirit
Is not mine
I am but a form
Me, my shape my self
Is not mine;
I am but a sound
My music my note my tune
Is for the celestial round
I am but a smile
my face, eyes, looks
are are for a while,
I am but a thought
my idea  vision, purpose,
Is for the Heaven
The Pure The Holy The Forever
I am, but Love
Love that is pure and just
I am but a speck of dust.


Gone are the Days of Peaceful sojourning

Image result for the golden age of athens

when flutes blew notes of tunes so sweet

when words were words of love and treat

when horses trotted on the cobbled street

a lone policeman was right on the beat

innocent laughter filled the backseat

there was no winning losing or defeat,

Who is the Master of the Feat

Who are we trying to cheat ?

Forgotten Achilles’ vulnerability?

proud Odysseus’s Ordeals Cold Death

or Killing Heat? There is, but a Terror

Filled , Uncertain, grave deceit.

Who is ready to face,horrible Afreet?

Yet, all to fall, is, Destiny

I bleed in spirit, Necromancy spelled

a virtual heart pinned obsolete;

Insincerity hatred blatantly rampant

Celestial spheres restless, Poseidon fears

As Grecian Venture sets a new Fleet

My Quest moves on, by the Oracles

Will find the Golden Fleece

I have sacrificed and prayed to

the Heavens, for Victory and peace

I know by Obedience and service I

Will kill the Minotaur and succeed

to complete The Sacred Justified

Brave, Ordained Odyssey!