Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 76th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week I'm pretty busy with work and repairing computers from friends and friends of friends, so not a lot of time to do anything else…       

This week's poem is called "Ain't no grave" that was inspired by a song from Johnny Cash with the same name. The guest poem is called "Reach for the top" that was inspired by a kid's view of the world, from http://AShatteredOne.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Ain't no grave

I'm 6 feet under,

I've been buried,

I'm done with life,

I'm certainly not done with death,

I'm in the land of the unknown,

I'm waiting for the angels to come,

I'm waiting to meet Jesus,

I'm waiting to meet my parents,

I'm waiting to meet everyone I loved,

Gabriel! 

Mr Angel! 

I'm waiting for you! 

Cause,

There's no grave,

Can hold my body down.

So this poem is 100% inspired by the song of Johnny Cash with the same name and you should really listen to it if you want to better understand how this whole poem came together. 

So no need to tell you that this song and this poem is talking about death, but what I like about it it's that it's not talking about death as an end but as a new beginning, which makes the optimistic side of me happy. So because it's talking about death I had to take all the clichés about death and put them into the poem, that's how I started it to put everyone in the mood.

For example, I'm 6 feet under, that's certainly one of the most common expression to describe someone who's dead, then I just added a little more description, saying that I've been buried, and that I'm done with life. Here this last sentence is very important because it has a double meaning. It says I'm done with life, it doesn't say I'm done with death, and that's where the heart of this poem is.

I just say it in the second paragraph just in case you would not have caught the subtlety in the last sentence, I like to leave clues and double meanings in my poems, but at the same time I don't want to leave people in the dark forever, so after they've tried it on their own I give the solution.

I'm in the land of the unknown, that's pretty self explanatory, because nobody could know what is beyond death and come back to tell it, the trip is unknown. 

In the song they talk about angels and because I love them too, I had to include them and it gives the poem a nice touch too, apart from being relevant. 

Some people think that when you die you go meet Jesus and because in the song it's also mentioned, I had to include it. It goes with the fact that some other people think that you might be with your family for all eternity, as well as everyone you ever liked or loved, which you can consider a pretty good place to be. 

Let's bring some fun into this gloomy subject, let's call for Mr. Angel Gabriel! Even though the dead guy has all eternity, even dead it's a pain to wait so he's eagerly waiting for him. 

For what reason? Well because there's no grave that can hold his body down. Here I on purpose didn't put the "that" because in the song it's not, and we can still very much understand the meaning. 

The guest poem for this week is called Reach for the top, and I chose it because it shows very well what kid's dreams can be made of and how to achieve them. 

They don't understand,

They never will

When you're a kid,

You have crazy dreams,

Some may be almost impossible,

But we dream big,

Because we know what they don't know

We know that for you to get anywhere near your dreams,

You need to create the biggest goal for yourself

If you shoot for the top,

You may not make it there,

But you will make it somewhere awesome

Well I don't need to tell you that being a kid is very different from being an adult, and that's why being a kid is so awesome because it lasts for so little, when adulthood you could consider lasts for the rest of your life. 

A kid's view is very different from a grown up one, and that's why they often don't understand each other, and it even might look like the kid is in another world, or even a world of his own, because it might very well be true. I really like the start to be like that as it poses the foundations for everything else that's going to come.

When you're a kid you have crazy dreams, that nobody can deny, because you're not blocked by the view of the world, and things that can't be done, that's also why I think some companies nowadays try to make their creative people regress so that they can be well, more creative. 

Some may be almost impossible, but we dream big. Most geniuses of this century became famous because they tried to do something that everyone else was telling them was impossible, but they did it anyway, so the best way to solve a problem is not to think how difficult or impossible it is, but how can I solve it? The poem really makes me think of someone building a house, the natural progression that it's taking, is just perfect, starting from the ground and going up bit by bit, by explaining each part very simply and effectively. 

Because we know what they don't, that's a powerful sentence, that makes me think that we don't necessarily forget what we where before, but we just evolve, and everything that was past is buried in some corner of our brain waiting for it to go up again. 

We know that for you to get anywhere near your dreams you need to create the biggest goal for yourself. That's just like when you're negotiating, you will give a very high price so that when the other party wants to bargain and brings it down, it's still higher than if you had started with a lower price. That's again something everyone can understand and to make people understand your message you need to make it understandable. I really believe in this, some poems might be very nicely done, but after reading it you don't really know what the author wanted to say, or what it was all about, and that for me is a failed poem. 

If you shoot for the top you might make it there, so it just emphasize the previous two sentences. They're very important, I would even say at the core of the poem. Because it's important to have a dream, but it's even more important to make it a reality. The last sentence, brings everything in perspective and bring the poem to a beautiful end, meaning that even if you don't achieve your dream, you might still achieve something beautiful. 

So that's the end of my poems podcast, where I read poems talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. This week it's all about being positive, so look at the bright side of death, and try to reach for the top, even if you're an adult now, you might get to a beautiful place. Have a great week everyone, see ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep76.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 3:00 PM
Comments[0]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 75th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week I bought some new TV shows and HD movies on itunes, so I'm currently watching those.       

This week's poem is called "Stars in the eyes" that was inspired by myself and people around me. The guest poem is called "A thousand whales" that was inspired by a dream, from http://brucedreamer.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Stars in the eyes

Everyone is born,

With stars in the eyes,

Millions,

Then thousands,

Then only a few,

Then nothing.

Everyone is born,

Without knowing anything of the world,

These million wonders,

These thousand horrors,

Who shed,

These few tears,

Then nothing.

Everyone is born,

Different,

But on the same star,

Million others surround us,

But not in space,

But in the eyes of the observer which,

Thousands of thoughts later,

Are only some white spots without interest,

Then nothing.

Let's save the stars,

In the eyes of people,

So that nothing,

Bad comes,

So that from a few,

We go to thousands,

Then to millions,

Then with the re,

Birth of the dream,

That keeps us awake,

That allows us to advance,

To find another end.

Here I really wanted to tell a story, and to do that let's start by the start. 

Everyone is born with stars in the eyes. Just like the "everyone is created equal" saying, this one shows that when you're born you have that kind of glint in your eyes that makes you innocent, curious, wanting to discover the world and learn from it. 

Now the next three lines are an accelerated view of birth, adulthood, and death. First you have millions of stars, then you have only thousands as life's hardship start to get to you, then you have a few, as you get old and embittered, and finally you have none as you die.

I wanted to start with the same sentence, because I wanted to tell the story 3 times over, and 3 times differently. Just because each people has a different life, I wanted to show at least 3 different views on it. 

So everyone is born without knowing anything of the world. Well that's obvious that when you're born you don't know anything, and you start to learn to walk, to talk, and so on and so forth. He or she will also discover the million wonders of the world, but also the thousand horrors. I'm an optimistic guy so I said that there was more wonders than horrors in the world, which makes me feel better about it. I also finished the paragraph with the same sentence, to emphasize even more the start and end of everything. 

Everyone is born different, which is exactly what I've said before, it was just more subtly done, here I really wanted to make it clear. But on the same star, as saying planet would have been too common. Million others surround us, which is true, you could even say billion others. Now to be completely honest with you, I cannot remember what I really wanted to say with those next sentences, it's been a while since I've written this poem. What I think it means it's that the beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but even more than that, after some time (a thousand thoughts later), people are not interested in the others anymore, but only on themselves. 

So the last paragraph is more a call for help, but also of course the end of the story. So let's save the stars in the eyes of the people, so that nothing bad comes. So that we reverse the tendency and we go from a few to thousands and then millions! Then the humanity will be reborn from a dream, a beautiful one non the less! But it's a dream that's keeping us awake to allow us to advance and find another end, than the one which is currently planned by every prophet! 

So this week's guest poem is called a thousand whales, and I found the title really original, and the poem really sweet and well done, so let's get to it.

Oh my old love!

abandoned,

A thousand whales rushing to you.

My hand stretched to the air.

Quiet storm, indifferent face.

An injured whale can be seen ashore,

So my love can be found at your feet.

A tear drowned in the vast sea,

so my love disappeared with the wind.

Another grain added to the beach.

To start, it certainly starts strong, with something like an ode to his old love.

A thousand whales rushing to you, that certainly can be a scary sight, or a beautiful one, depending on how you see things. My hand stretched to the air. Here I would imagine that he's in a boat and that by doing that he's trying to find out from where the wind is coming. A quiet storm, that's certainly some kind of contradiction, but that's what's making it all the more interesting and intriguing. Indifferent face, well just like the storm, it's quiet but indifferent. An injured whale can be seen ashore. Stranded and being unable to go back into the water by itself, as well as injured, that's a bad turn of events for this animal, but for us the reader, it's great because it makes the poem all the more interesting, as we're starting to wonder what is going to happen to this whale. 

So my love can be found at your feet, that's a great image that can be interpreted with the meaning that this guy is kneeling at the feet of the girl, just the way you'll do when you're in love with someone. A tear drowned in the vast see, that's certainly a powerful comparison that shows that no matter how much he cried it wouldn't make any difference. So my love disappeared with the wind, it's another comparison I like, as I can totally see the wind coming and taking all the love from you and carrying away. Another grain added to the beach, same comparison as the tear with the ocean, it's nothing special, it's just another grain added to the beach. 

So that's all for today good folks for this week's episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. So I hope you still have some stars sparkling in your eyes, if you don't then you need to go and find them again. I also hope your love is not like this whale stranded on the shore, but more like a balloon flying high. 

I wish you all a very good week, and lots of nice things, see ya!  

Direct download: My_poems_ep75.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 2:54 PM
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Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 74th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week nothing much happened… There was a huge gym fair for the whole week so it was kind of hard to take the public transports as suddenly you have 20'000 more people, but well I survived.       

This week's poem is called "Sleeping Moe" that was inspired by a drawing made by the very talented liuxiaoyu. The guest poem is called "How come" that was inspired by something he's done to someone else, from http://zenzero541.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Sleeping Moe,

I'm a sleeping moe,

When I start to read,

It's like dreaming,

To imagine myself in another world,

I don't need to have my eyes open,

I just need to read the first sentence,

Then I just continue for myself,

There I can be anyone,

Do anything I like,

Some people find me cute,

I suppose it's because,

When I sleep, I'm happy.

When I had a look at the picture this poem is based on, I knew I had to write something about it, it was just too cute not to. Also it made something resonate in me, and that's always a sign that I have to write something about it. 

Well as always, don't try to make something harder when you have the solution just in front of you. For the title it was obvious that it was going to be the title of the drawing. 

So first the presentation, hello, hi, I'm a sleeping moe, and here is my story. When I start to read it's like dreaming. Well she has a book in her hands and she's asleep, so let's put those two together and make 2 sentences with it. 

Now, what does reading feel like? Or put in another way, what does reading bring you? Well for me at least, it makes me go deep into the world created by the author, and live the story just as if I was part of it. My imagination is crazy active, so I kind of described myself here, that to imagine myself in another world, I just need to read the first sentence, and the rest I can imagine it for myself, and I do that better with my eyes closed, when I'm the most relaxed. 

Well the next paragraph is pretty self explanatory. Just like I said before, I just need the first line to kickstart my imagination. The best part about imagination and dreams, it's that you can imagine being anyone and doing everything you want, isn't that awesome? 

I had to put the cute word somewhere, just because the girl in the picture is just too cute not to mention it. But I thought that she might be a bit shy, so I turned the sentence in a way that showed it. Some people find her cute when she's sleeping like that, just because when she sleep she's happy in her own little world! 

So I chose this guest poem because it seems to have a very big meaning and be very important for his writer, so here it is: 

Why did you leave me all alone 

Why did you leave me to die in this hole

This hole of depression 

Before i sink too far, hear out my confession

I may have defiled your trust 

But I cant see the big fuss

All i did was trick you 

But what do you expect me to do

I needed to know

So please stop your silly show

All I want is one explanation

Before you throw out your condemnation

So is this too much too ask

Is this too hard of a task

        So i ask again

Why did you leave me all alone 

Why did you leave me to die in this hole

This hole of depression 

Now that you have heard my confession

My first impression on this poem was, that it was more like a confession, or something you would like to tell someone, not really a poem.

So it starts with a few simple questions: Why did you leave me alone? Well that one cannot be more classic, that's what every lover is asking himself. Then you have, why did you leave me to die in this hole? Which is a good way to emphasize the first one, and make it much more dramatic. This hole of depression, well I'm not sure if we really needed to have that kind of detail, but it goes to show that sometimes you want to be really clear and detailed on what you're talking about. Before I sink too far hear out my confession, and here I think starts the more story like part where the poemy part fades into the background. 

I might have defiled your trust, well first of all the use of the word defiled, is a very good choice! It's elaborate and understandable by most people at the same time.  But I can't see the big fuss, all I did was trick you. Here the writer gives a question and the answer at the same time, what's the big fuss? Well you tricked her. Then comes the time for the apology, But what do you expect me to do, I needed to know, so please stop your silly show. Asking the person you're talking about how to make things better is a good way to engage with the audience as makes the poem more alive, then obviously the writer wants an honest answer, not a silly one. 

All I want is one explanation, this just repeats what was said in the earlier paragraph, and he wants this explanation before he's condemn for what he did, which is fair. Is this too much to ask, or is it too much of a task, those two sentence really emphasize the will to have an answer so much that it's like shooting it to the stars, it's just that high! 

So after all these explanations, and confessions, he wants to ask again the big question, which is also fair. 

Here taking the same paragraph than the first one, is a good way to clearly show the beginning and end of the poem, just like 2 book stop would do in a library. At the end we really want to know what the girl for which this poem is meant said, and what was her answer, which is good, as it leaves the reader involved. 

This is the end of this episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. Today, look at a book and dream, and when in doubt in a love affair just ask for the answer. Have a great week everyone, see ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep74.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 2:52 PM
Comments[0]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 73rd episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: I've just done a new tattoo this week and I'm absolutely loving it, it represents the archangel Raphael in a kind of abstract form. For those of you watching me on deviantart I've just posted a picture of it, so tell me what you think.      

This week's poem is called "Little miracles" that was inspired by a drawing made by the very talented Natsuki-3. The guest poem is called "Slowly Falling" that was inspired by a combination of song, life and time of writing, from http://unforgetablesoul.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Little miracles

They happen every day,

In every part of the world,

Thought you don't need,

To be a saint to make it happen.

Just watching someone,

And getting the same,

Interconnectedness,

Is just wonderful.

It makes you have wings,

It makes you forget everyone else,

But this special person,

You're looking at her,

She's looking at you,

There's a connexion between you,

And when you make it in a funny way,

That's a little miracle!

Ok the title for this one was the easy part because the drawing on which it's based has that same title, sometimes the simplest things are the best. 

To fully understand the poem, you need to have a good visualization of what the picture it's based on looks like, so I'm going to describe it to you now. A girl is laying on her back while a guy is watching her face from above as he has his arms stretched out, and there's a little bubble with a heart inside. 

I wanted to tell the story of the two people in the picture, and I started with an abstract fact, and that is not to talk about them just yet, but talk about miracles. We all have our views on miracles, but here the miracle is love, and it happens every day, in every part of the world, and you don't need to be a saint to make it happen. Really I don't have anything else to add here, it's crystal clear! Sometimes I amaze myself on how well I describe things… 

In the picture both people are watching each other, they're not doing anything else at all but exclusively that, and as I have a pretty good experience of this kind of love staring I thought I'll just describe what I felt when I was doing it. In connection with the subject of miracles, just watching someone and getting the same love sight from the other part is just wonderful. I don't think I could use a better word to describe it. Talking about words, the word interconnectedness came to me from a song that talks about it, which means that to be inspired and find the right words you need to have a very broad range of likings. Listen to all sorts of music, read all sorts of books, talk to all sorts of people, and so on and so forth.

Now it's certainly no longer a secret that I love angels, and each time I can make someone in my poems have wings I jump on the occasion! This one is no exception. It makes you have wings, forget everything and want to fly. This comparison takes two things into account, and that is that when I lived it I actually felt that way, and the second I already said it, and it's my passion for angels. 

To finish I wanted something simple, yet powerful and romantic, but not cheesy, I wanted something fun! So he's looking at her, she's looking back, and there's obviously a connection between these two. To even increase the meaning and effect of this, you can make a funny face, and it's nearly guaranteed that the person on the other side is going to smile and even laugh, isn't that the best? I call that a little miracle in my world, so what's it called on yours? 

Here goes the guest poem for this week, that shows well what happens when you think about life too much. 

Don't know what to do anymore...

Whether to ignore the whole world or cry listening.

I'll never understand it, 

No matter how hard I try. 

I can't stand it...

I just want to run away. 

Why can't we pretend things aren't the way they are?

It isn't easy...

Coming to a place most people would call "home"...

But in my world it's only a roof with four walls. 

I can't take the screaming anymore...

Can't take the pain that eats down to the bottom of my soul...

Whether I cry or smile doesn't matter...

Because deep down under my skin...

Within this loving heart...

Is a young women who has been dying inside for a long, long time.

There's a saying in French that says something like "Happy the simple minded people", which means that if you don't ask yourself too many question, and don't try to understand everything then you'll be happy. I think that it's not as definitive as that, and that as all things in life it's a question of balance. It's good practice to ask yourself a few questions, but if you start being obsessed it's not good and it can eat you alive. Now to the poem: 

Here it's asking a question, what should she do? Well poems are a great way to share things without actually talking to anyone, you're just talking to the paper so to speak, and that can be of great help to people, and it has been a lot for me. 

The second question is whether to keep listening and asking yourself questions or become deaf and denying everything that's happening. As said before I think a good middle should be found, but it starts the poem with two very important questions, and that's good because it makes us want to read more to know the answer. 

I'll never understand it no matter how hard I try, that's a bold statement, but it's also a question in disguise, meaning I still want to try but I don't know how? 

I can't stand it, I just want to run away. Well that's one of the solutions, but running away from a burning house doesn't help extinguish the fire, that's what I think of when I read that line. 

So another bunch of questions, why can't we pretend all is nice and dandy when it's not? Here I would answer with a relatively bold statement, meaning because it's not. It's just like putting a plaster on a wound, you might hide it but it won't cure. It's not easy, well life is not easy and it's because it's life, I tend to think that if it was easy it wouldn't be life, and it wouldn't be fun. I say fun because I'm an optimistic.

Here the rhyme is specially well done, saying that's she's going home, but her home is just a roof with for walls. The description is just perfect, and it makes you ask yourself the good question, which is why is it? Is there nobody home? 

She can't take the screaming anymore, another good way to engage and retain the reader attention, as to the reason of the screaming, because you have to find it yourself. 

I often say that keeping things inside that should be said is just like a venom or a bomb and the more you accumulate things like that the more probability that it's going to kill you or blow up. To make it more realistic, I often say that there's a snake inside you, that's eating you alive, and that you have to spit it out. 

Another good question, why doesn't it matter anymore if she cries or smile? Well the answer in the next following lines. Because under her skin, and on her loving heart, she feels like she's dying everyday a bit more. This all comes back to everything I've said before on pilling of bad stuff inside you, it's just like a tower, just add blocks and more blocks and sometime when you had one more it's going to tumble and fall. Just the dramatic finish that's needed for a poem like this. 

That's the end of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them and try to demystify the art of poems writing. So this week, don't forget that you can make little miracles come true, and be happy with it. Also take everything you have hanging on your chest and inside of you out, so that you can keep going in life. Come to me if you want I'll be most happy to help. So see you guys and girls next time, for another episode of my poems podcast!

Direct download: My_poems_ep73.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 3:00 PM
Comments[8]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 72nd episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: I'm coming back from Japan expo as you're listening to this, as I'm writing this in advance I cannot tell you yet how it was, but I can only imagine great!      

This week's poem is called "The time" that was inspired by my life. The guest poem is called "Dark and Light" that was inspired by the world, from http://demonsimpulse.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

It goes,

It comes,

Like the road and the ways,

It is lived.

One second equals a broken heart,

Or,

A beautiful love story,

Who's not affected by time or seasons,

Who takes all his time to hatch into a beautiful butterfly,

Flying on winds,

Tumultuous,

Violent,

Soft,

Taking him towards its distant horizon,

Of multitudes,

For all to join the angels,

Or,

Of loneliness,

To only be an angel.

I wanted to do a poem about time, because it's something that we live with everyday. Disclaimer, this poem is a translation of the original French poem.

It goes and it comes, it comes and it goes, you can put it anyway you want, it tells the same story. This sentence is especially true for time, because  you can see things happening right now, or physically coming at you, and then once they go pass you, they're gone. One thing I really like about time is also the fact that the present is the only time period that we're continually living in, and I find that fascinating. 

Like the road and the ways, again it's a really good example of what you can compare time to. Just like the first example, when you're in a road, it most often has something that is behind you and something that is in front of you, and a point where you're currently at. Ways, is a more subtle one, I wanted to show that when you're in a road, you can choose many ways, but the fact that there is road ahead and road behind as well as that you're currently in a given point of the road stays true. 

It's lived, well that part doesn't need much explanation. Now I didn't want to do a simple poem about time, I wanted it to represent something more, something dear to me, and that was love. It's been a while since I've written this, but I think that it was while I was in a relationship or just going out of it, and blending the two subjects together seemed like a good idea. So one second equals a broken heart, it's a strong statement that I wanted to make here, to show the number of break downs in relationships around the world. 

Or a beautiful story, well you cannot be only pessimist, so there is not only the broken hearts but also the wonderful stories of love. Love is also something weird, just like time, it's certainly not affected by seasons as you can fall in love at any time or season. Some seasons are of course better for finding someone, but love stories happen all the time. 

Love takes time, unless you're looking for a one night stand, in which case it cannot really called love, it's only physical attraction. What best way to describe it than to compare it to the birth cycle of the butterfly. At first it's insignificant and as time pass it grows and at the very end goes out of its cocoon and spring its beautiful wings. 

Well the butterfly obviously flies, and on what does it fly? On the wind of course! Sometimes it's the most obvious things that have the greatest impact, and convey what you wanted to show. Now how is the wind? It can be either, tumultuous, violent, or soft, all these sorts of winds are taking him towards its destination, to make it more epic, you can say it's destiny, but in this case I chose to say the horizon, as you can easily imagine a butterfly flying in the horizon. 

How many butterflies is there? A multitude! That's a nice word to avoid saying many, which is too common, also multitude sounds better. And if they all fly toward the horizon together, they will all encounter the angels, and become a part of them. Or if the butterfly is alone, he will himself become an angel. 

The guest poem for this week is called Dark and Light and I specially like it, because it talks about a subject dear to my heart, and that is the right to be different.

How would the world be like 

If we were all the same?

What would be different?

What would be the differences

Between right

And wrong?

What is the point in

Having an opposite?

See who has the burden

Or who gets the glory?

Which side is dark or

Which is light?

Who is to say

Who I am

And what I am

Supposed to be?

Because society

Caused my death.

Now who is to blame?

So let's dive directly into the subject with the big question: What would the world look like if we were all the same? I really like to ask myself this question because people always tell me that I'm weird, and in fact I like that, because I don't want to be normal, normal is boring! What would be the difference? Well think about this for a minute, inside we're all the same, we have the same organs, and our body works in the same way, but in the outside we're all different, isn't that awesome? That fact never ceases to amaze me! Another big question, how can you know the difference between right and wrong, sometimes you do something that you feel is right, but that others feel that it's wrong, let's just say it's an endless argument that I won't go deep into now. This first paragraph is really very strong, it really shows what the whole poem is about in a single blow. It makes you think quite a lot too, and ask you the right questions, very well done! 

What is the point in having an opposite? That's another very good question! Well if we were all the same we wouldn't be able to learn from each other as everyone would have the same life, and the same of everything. See who has the burden and the glory, well here it's a clear example of comparing two opposites that define the society by itself. How can you see if someone if bothered or is not feeling well? With the same expression how can you feel relieved and enjoy someone who's smiling and is happy to be living if everyone would be the same, have the same face, and so on… Again repeating the good versus evil stand point, with the light and dark analogy, this is just a hidden reminder to keep thinking about it, and not forget it after the first paragraph. 

Who's to say who I am? Well that's another big question, if everyone is the same, who decides what the mold should be? That certainly is a great responsibility. And what I am supposed to be, the look doesn't do everything, but what you're suppose to be doing, and how you should act, and so on, makes a good part of who you are, so who should decide that too? Because society caused my death. Yeah well the message is pretty clear, and actually answers the question asked above, so who should decide? Society will! 

But if society caused the death of difference, who exactly should we blame? There is no single person that we can target, and with this little innocent last sentence, it closes the poem beautifully. 

That's the end of this week's episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. Try to remember people to love as much as you can, because time is running just like a fast car on a highway, and be proud of your differences, as it's the best thing about you. 

Have a good week-end everyone, see you next week for other incredible adventures!  

Direct download: My_poems_ep72.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 3:00 PM
Comments[0]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 71th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week not much happened, I just went shopping for clothes and shoes, as well I bought a new season of mythbusters, I love these guys!      

This week's poem is called "Happiness" that was inspired by my life. The guest poem is called "I love Zombies" that was inspired by well, zombies, from http://captainsara2.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Happiness:

Is rare,

Is invaluable,

Is very simple.

Like a head laid on a shoulder,

Like closing your eyes and thinking of loving,

Like a glance.

And yet,

It's what's most valuable in this world.

Everyone seeks it,

But few people find it.

It's not bought,

It's not sold,

It's acquired.

It leaves,

It comes,

We always run after it,

We only want to keep it to ourselves.

But happiness never comes alone,

When it's shared.

Happiness is something very strange and I wanted to do something about it. 

At first let's describe it the best I can. It's rare, indeed it is, and it's getting even more scarce as the time flies by. It's invaluable, again it's something that is so precious that you cannot put any price on it. It's very simple, simple joys are often the best ones, making you happy with such silly things, it's just the best. 

Obviously here, I was not going to describe happiness in detail because everyone knows what it is. Instead I describe what I thought was the most explanatory possible, in only 3 words. I encourage you, as a little game to choose anything and try to describe it with only 3 words, I tell you that can be hard. 

One of the times I was most happy was when I was in love, and that's why I compared it to laying your head on the shoulder of your loving companion, closing your eyes and thinking of loving, you might even do both things at the same time. Like a glance, this one is certainly the one that has the more meaning to me, as I had my first kiss after a beautiful glance. 

After this little introduction with your head in the stars and your eyes sparkling, let's go back to earth. It's very simple but it's something that has an invaluable value, as said previously. It's notoriously hard to find, because you cannot drill a hole and there it goes, you cannot excavate a mountain, and find it in rocks. That's what I wanted to show with this second description. So it's not bought nor sold, that's goes without saying, but it's acquired, and here the really interesting thing is that those three words a very similar, but buying and acquiring something has a subtle difference in them, as the second can be for free, when the first one is not. It leaves and it comes, again truth itself! Using two opposite words like that goes a long way in explaining and putting forward what you want to communicate to the reader. 

In these few last sentences, I wanted to show, really our lust for it, how we really crave it, and would do anything for it, because that's really what happens in the real world. We run after it, even though it's in the figurative sense, it can in some occasions also be in the real sense, where for example we could run after someone we love because he or she is running away. I also wanted to show that we're self-centered people and that most of the time what interests us most is our own happiness, and don't worry about others. To compensate for this, I finished by saying that it never comes alone when you're two, because then both of the couple are happy together. 

The guess poem for this week is pretty funny and well written that's why I wanted to feature it. Enjoy! 

Tooth decay and a missing eye

Tattered clothes on rotting skin

This is my kind of guy

Necrophilia is my only sin

For loving you my dear

Some girls want a vampire

Zombies are what I desire

Some girls crave a demon

I just want my brains eaten

You may not have the prettiest face

And you will never sleep

A zombie like you, I want to embrace

For this I may be a black sheep

But I love zombies

Everybody is entitled to like/love what they want or who they want, and in this spirit, I think that loving a zombie was first, a very funny one, and something original. 

So the title of the poem speaks for itself, I love zombies. At first you could think that this author loves zombie movies, or something like that, and that's where you're wrong, because it's talking literally. 

Let's start the description, shall we? Tooth decay and a missing eye, that's just the perfect portrait of what a zombie should look like. Tattered clothes and rotting skin, makes a perfect mix of nicely chosen word but yet easy to understand, so that we can get this image in our minds. This is my kind of guy, well good for you! That's where the poem really becomes epic! This is certainly an unexpected turn of events, something that surprises and makes the reader laugh. Necrophilia is my only sin, well I didn't know it was a sin until you mentioned it. But can it really be considered necrophilia, if it's only half dead? That is the question. For loving you my dear, that just confirms what was said before, it's really an uncommon love. Strange and bizarre things, are most interesting, specially because they're rare, if it would happen every day it wouldn't be as interesting to read. 

Some girls want a vampire, well that's obviously true, because I know at least one of them. Justification, trying to convince you, the reader, that even though it's an uncommon love, it's not the only one. Zombies are what I desire, just repeating the core subject and idea of the poem, over and over again with different words, and associating with different things, it's a very good way to make your point across. Some girls crave a demon, well you have to find something in the same register as zombies, and vampires, and I think that a demon goes very well with it. I just want my brains eaten, that sentence just killed me! It rhymes and goes so well with the whole poem, it's really a struck of genius there! If you've seen any zombie movie, or played any zombie game, you know they're aways looking for your brains.

You may not have the prettiest face, well that's for sure, and the final description is pretty important, now that we know all the facts, the big finally must bring everything together in a coherent manner. And you will never sleep, this is well done, as it talks about the half dead nature of the creature, but without saying it, genius! A zombie like you I want to embrace, well make sure you don't brake him in two… For this I might be a black sheep, that also is true, and gives a clear and simple representation of what is happening. But I love zombies, we noticed, the end is clear, simple, and resumes in a few words the whole plot of the poem, really nicely done. 

This is the end of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. So people remember this week, to be happy, alone, or with your significant other. And if you love zombies or have any special relationship with any half living creature, give me a call and I'll arrange things, don't forget to be happy too. 

See you next week for another episode and some more interesting stories, see ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep71.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 3:00 PM
Comments[1]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 70th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week, because I was working during the night, I spent most of the morning sleeping, and also did spend some time on a B&B to be closer to work, and not have to do like 25km on bike at 1h30 in the morning.     

This week's poem is called "The mix" that was inspired by a roommate I had. The guest poem is called "Hell girl" that was inspired by an anime, from http://ColdAmuChan.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

You are a sweet mix,

A little humor,

A hint of irony,

A bit of kindness,

A small pinch of romanticism,

As well as a tear of craziness,

It's all that composes you,

You the scientist.

You know how to mix everything to perfection,

So that reaction happens,

So that earthquake occurs,

So that all illuminates.

And that you finally see at the end of the tunnel,

Your dreams come true.

So for the little story, the girl I was living with was doing chemistry studies. I came to like her a lot, and I thought that to suit her I had to write something about her, but also about her work, so that's what I came up with.

The image I had in my head when doing this poem is that I wanted it to be just like an experiment. So you're a sweet mix, just because I wanted to seduce this girl, and you don't attract flies with vinegar we say in my country, so telling a girl she's sweet is a good start. 

A little list goes a long way, it's short, clear and gets the point across very easily. Now in this case, she mainly has a good sense of humor, she's kind and caring, has just a small bit of romanticism and even a little bit of craziness. 

Using measure units that are not commonly used is a good way to make your description stand out from the crowd. Here for example, I'm using: a little, a hint, a bit, a small pinch, and a tear. It's all that composes her, and she's now whole, which is good, you don't want to leave such descriptions endless. 

She's studying, but still saying that one day when she finishes she will be a scientist, is not far from the truth, embellishing things without saying lies is a good way to encourage and promote someone.

What do chemists do? They mix several things together and try to get something else out of it. She is one, and so she knows exactly how to mix things, so that a reaction happens. Now here, science can be done for good or evil, and even though I loved this girl, I didn't want to let that influence my judgement, so I added just this little tiny bit of caution on the poem saying that she could very well create an earthquake too. The thing I would like her to do more than anything else, is to illuminate everything and everyone. This sentence has two ways to interpret it and that was the purpose of it.

The light we've talked before goes well with a tunnel where you see the light at the end of it. It summarize very well the whole poem in a nutshell and contains every sense you can imagine. To finish on a note of hope, in the end of the tunnel there are the dreams that come true, the end of the studies, and the start of active life. 

The guess poem for this week is called "Hell girl" because not only can men be evil, and this show well that a girl can certainly be as evil as anybody else. 

I can see the grievance of these pitiful souls

Doomed to wander the roads of hell all alone

Cursed with the mark of eternal damnation

All that they could see was life's obliteration

I can see them for it is I who picks them up

They do their dirty deeds and they damage enough

I am a child who sends everyone to their fate

When they scream it is already too late.

I boat them away on the sea of fire

All the traitors, thieves and liars

For their name was sent to me on a site

Whoever sent it, I will avenge tonight.

The background on this poem is quite clear from the beginning, we're talking about hell, and about a girl. That's all we need to know for now, and as the story unfolds before our eyes, we will start to know more about what she's doing there.

First the contemplation. She's looking at the souls around and seeing the grievance in them, such imaginative and wonderful sight to start a journey in hell. Hell is not really a place where you'll find or make a lot of friends, so that's normal to wander in there alone. We've seen in countless movies evil people being marked with red steel, and making references about popular culture like that is a genius way to raise the easiness of understanding of a poem. All that they could see was life's obliteration? Well that sentence sounds really nice to me, it goes well with the flow and shows well what life in hell could be. 

Well I must admit here that, this first sentence is not of the greatest  construction. The content of the sentence in itself is good, but I think that you should say it in this way: I can see them (pause) for it is I (pause) who picks them (forget the up). When you're in hell, you take it for granted that people who do good, will not be there. You finish in hell because you've done dirty deeds and damaged something or someone with your acts. The fact here that she precise that she's a child, makes a huge different on how the sentence is perceived. It emphasizes the fact that they're grown ups, and that she's little but more responsible than them, even if not less evil. Not less evil I say because, when they scream it doesn't seem to bother her, and anyone with common sense would be affected if someone yelled like that, and that you were the cause of it. 

A little suggestion here, I would say "a sea of fire" and not "the sea of fire", it sounds better when I read it. Again here everyone can relate to the description of boating someone away on a sea, the fact that it's on fire fits perfectly in the context. Here you could choose 3 of anything you want, she chose thieves, traitors and liars. She could have very well chosen, bankers, lawyers, or crazy doctors… Their name was sent to her, now she's an executioner… Interesting… And the end of the poem is more about doing the right thing and avenge the people who have been deceived or hurt, than simple revenge, which is a good message.

That concludes this episode of my poems podcast where I read poems, talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 70 episodes is a lot, and I'm always having the same pleasure on writing and recording each episode, so I hope you do too by listening to them. 

Don't forget to leave a nice and sweet note for the people you love, and try not to do evil deeds, because you'll finish in hell and meet the girl who rides the boat. Have a great week everyone, see ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep70.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 9:06 PM
Comments[0]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 69th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: So little free time! That's the main feeling I've been having this week. I've watched lots of videos that's true, with apple's developer conference, and staying up to date with new game launches at E3, it's been a busy week. So To compensate for this craziness I'm offering you a little bit of sweetness today.     

This week's poem is called "Sweetness and ingenuousness" that was inspired by love. The guest poem is called "The prayer of a transgender" that was inspired by LGBT movement, from http://werewolf-hero.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

You're sweet,

You're beautiful,

You're nice.

He's sweet,

He's passionate,

He's attentive.

You two are bound,

By the love of a queen and king,

By the desire to reign as Masters on yourselves,

You'll tell me I'm insane, 

Yes! I'll answer,

But insane of love,

But insane of you,

But insane of life,

But insane of joy,

But insane of everything.

Let's go straight to some poem action and skip the background part. This is obviously one of the most straight forward example of a comparison themed poem. You take something or someone, and compare it to something or someone else. The way you do it is the critical part of course, so let's dive deep into it. 

I like the number 3, it's my favorite number, and being so I thought it would only be natural to have a 3 sentences paragraph for each individual I want to describe. 

Ok I must agree here, the description is a bit common, but I think it describes each time another part of the person. You're sweet for example, is very very close to being nice, but sweet has a subtle but crucial twist that makes it more love related, at least in my opinion. So if she's nice, sweet and beautiful, that means that she's nice as a friend, sweet as a lover, and beautiful on the outside too. 

He's sweet, now same thing as before. He's passionate, that would be me in fact. Sometimes I like to talk about myself in the 3rd person as if I didn't want the whole spotlight on me, but just a tad. He's attentive, because to satisfy a girl you need to be. 

I wanted something big. I wanted something enormous. I wanted something absolutely oversized! What did I found to fill the need? Well the love of a king and queen of course! It's the biggest and brightest, but also most magical way to show to someone you like them, or simply to have a good simple representations of what the other means for you. 

The interesting thing here is that, you want to be bound, but you don't want to be restrained. Being free in a relationship is the key to success I think. I haven't had much success in relationships I must admit, but I think that it has more to do with the fact that I'm a geek, and geeks don't really know how to do this sort of things ^^ 

Looking for that perfect person that will bring you the thing you're missing, is really some kind of utopia, but I don't despair, that's not my thing, but some people might think I'm crazy or just out of my mind, I wanted to reassure them by saying that they're certainly right, and that I don't care. On a side note here, if someone tells you you're crazy or something similar, just tell them they're right, so that the arguing cannot continue as you both agree, and that cuts the conversation short, and any fight between you that might have occurred. 

I can even add that I'm not only insane about this particular point, but about lots of other things. Love is one of them, you the other person, is another one, life, yeah this one is pretty high in my insane list, joy is certainly at the very top, and finally well everything I might do could be considered as insanity by someone else, and I'm ok with that you arguers! 

So the guest poem today is written by werewolf-hero and is I think on a subject I specially like to support. So in short, respect other people, I've again recently read an article that interviewed a mom who said that if her son was gay she would stab him to death, and that really made me sad, so be tolerant people, the world's better with diversity. 

God in heaven

Give me the courage to come out

My family the power to understand

To see that their daughter

is trapped in the body of a man

God in heaven

I know you love me

I need the wisdom to become

the woman I feel I should be

Amen.

Why god as the first word of the first sentence? It's not a poem about religion you would say, but I think that in this case it's because he's the only one that's all merciful, understanding and compassionate. And those things are certainly required to understand and accept someone that is different from you. 

When you need something that nobody can give you, then you ask god, and that shows how much courage someone needs to come out of the closet and tell the people that most count for him, what he really has inside. This sentence really gives a strong message and shows well what the situation is. 

Depending on your family relations and what you've heard directly on a given subject, or what you might have over heard, your reaction and your decision to reveal something as important as this will vary dramatically. Concerning the sentence it itself, it's short, strong and straight to the point, which is exactly what the writer needs to be able to pass his message along. 

The words to explain the things that someone has to live to understand, is really hard. Being trapped inside the body of a man, gives a really nice idea and feel for what the writer is currently living and goes a long way to explain something very complicated, with delicacy and tact. 

Going out of the closet and trying to explain everything is one solution, the other one is trying to deny it and go backwards to try to become "normal" again. These last few sentences are I feel the strongest of all, as they describe the absolute need for people to have opinions and comments, to make an informed decision. Here the decision is about a conflict of gender, which makes it all the more critical to have outside critical views that don't judge but help get an outside opinion. Because more times than not, you don't find such person, you have to go back to the almighty for answers, and pray you'll get the good ones. Amen, end of prayer. 

So that's all for today good folks. It's been the 69th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. So this week, remember to love, and to love in an inconsiderate and crazy manner, but to do it. Love is one thing, but respect is another, and both cannot be separated, so respect the LGBT people who's views and belief you maybe do not share, and let them be happy with that they are. That's my prayer for them, Amen. 

As always you can find me on Facebook, twitter, and email, I read everything and reply to everyone so don't be shy, contact me! Have a great week everyone, see ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep69.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 3:00 PM
Comments[1]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 68th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: I've started my work this week and I'm quite happy about it, though I'm often going to finish 1 am and that's the bad side.   

This week's poem is called "The beaujolais" that was simply inspired by wine. The guest poem is called "Planting" that was inspired by nature, from http://stardestroyr.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

Shining and sparkling cup,

You prepare to accommodate,

The liquid of the land.

The one which,

Gathered in good season,

Carefully triturated,

You will release,

A dress,

A scent,

A color.

You'll border the lips,

You'll go inside this body,

You're going to exhilarate .

Like the one which,

Attracted by the girl in beauty,

Will border her lips,

Then roll up her dress,

Smell her flower,

Appreciate her color,

To finish in her body,

To finally,

Make her head turn.

The background of this poem is quite interesting. I was invited to a place to read some poems and receive a free exemplar of a book where two of my poems where printed on. At the end of the show, I sat down with other poets, and there was wine to be drank among other things. I took a bit of wine and I started talking with the others, and it quickly went into the subject of wine, and they told me that I couldn't write something about wine, and like most people, I don't like when people tell me what I cannot do, so I did it. I wrote the poem in like 5 minutes on the bench I was siting on, and it went well. 

The best thing when you want to create a poem, where you have the actually "thing" you want to create the poem on in your hands, is to just look at it and describe it. 

I had a wine glass in my hand and what I usually do with descriptions is that I start from the top and finish at the bottom. In this case, the top was shining and sparkling, as there was quite a bit of light where I was. 

The description must not only be of what it is actually but also of how it got there. That's why I said that when you take an empty wine glass, the glass itself is preparing to receive the wine. 

As with all poems, you need to make people dream, and to do that, you don't have to use too common words. If I said that there was a cup and that I poured wine into it, it doesn't have anything mystical or magical about it, and is devoided of all interest. Instead if you say that it's preparing eagerly to receive the liquid of the land, the sentence has much more force and meaning.

So where does this liquid come from? Everyone knows it but that's also the job of the writer to make people interested and entertained by things that they already know. Actually I don't say exactly where it comes from because everyone knows it, but I describe the process to turn it into wine. The process is to collect it, to crush it, and put it in the bottle. 

Once you've done that you can leave the wine do its dance! Wear its dress, release its scent and show its color. And again what do you do when you have a glass full of wine? Well you drink it of course! A more sensual way to say it is to bring it to your lips. It then goes inside your body and it's the achievement of his life! What do you do when you've achieve the purpose of your life, well you celebrate it and you're exhilarated! 

Enough about the wine, let's make a parallel here, and talk a bit about girls. 

You might say, but Rafael, what does a girl have to do with wine? Well they certainly do have things in common, I would answer. They do have dresses, scents and colors for a start. Again, what do you do when you see a beautiful girl? You want to kiss her of course, and here it was important to try to use the same sentences as the ones I've used before for the wine, as it makes the comparison appear easier. 

Once you've kissed her, you're going further, and you're rolling up her dress to smell her flower, please note her the total absence of profanity or bad words to describe the act of love. Then you appreciate the color of her flower, as "real" flowers can have a lot of different colors and scents, so can a girl's flower. At the end of all that you're finishing inside her body, and just like when you've had too much wine, you're making her head turn, which is a good common thing that can be found in love and wine at the same time. 

The guest poem is calling Planting and is a really nice one, please tell me what you think of it in the comments.

When we fed you that tree

we expected the boughs 

to burst out of your mouth

But you marched out 

herds of cattle into your

belly like Noah's ark. 

They pruned and stripped

and there was nothing left

to grow proud and tall. 

And the roots curled

up around your liver

and your intestines.

And you became round

like a mother with child.

But you bore us nothing.

Except some acorns

coughed up occasionally

during intense conversation.

I really liked this poem, because as I have two nieces, I often say to them to convince them not to swallow the core of a fruit, that if they do a tree is going to grow inside their belly… 

Now I never actually thought of what could happen if a tree really grew inside someone's belly, and that's the tale of this poem. 

The first paragraph doesn't do anything lightly. It goes straight to the point and does it strongly. Here it skipped all the parts about growing and so on, to go directly to the end of the tree being big and having lots of branches. 

The contrast here is riveting! Having herds of cattle marching all over and trampling everything in their way, is not really what I would call the first thing I think of when I want to stop a tree from growing. It's a very interesting one though, and well though of. 

I sure can imagine the tree wanting to be proud and tall, but it being ridiculed by the pruning and stripping that it has to endure, and instead of my vision of it being, a big giant tree full of leaves on a carpet of tall grass, my vision is of a desert field with just a single tree not higher than a man and with only a few branches. 

Well the roots have to go somewhere, and because it's inside your stomach so to speak, it must be something that is under and around that. It makes sense then to talk about the liver and the intestines, as they're long and are easy to be curled upon. 

Another strong image here. The person had the same belly as a mother, but inside it was not a baby, meaning a new life, but nothing of interest. 

Except some acorns, something I could refer to as some kind of venom, if we were talking about a snake. The fact that is says, during intense conversations, comforts me in my belief, that this person's words are evil and that it's up to no good. 

So that concludes this week's episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. So people, remember to drink and enjoy wine, just as you kiss and make love to your significant other. But don't forget to be nice and to let the tree inside of you bloom and be proud, don't cough acorns, but flowers.

This is the first episode published from the new platform, and at the new time too. From now on all episodes will be delivered to you, at 5pm GMT+1 sharp! So that all european people can have a nice afternoon listening to it, and the people from other continents can have it waiting for them when they wake up. 

Have a great week everyone! See ya! 

Direct download: My_poems_ep68.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 5:00 PM
Comments[879]

Hello everyone I'm Rafael and welcome to the 67th episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them, and try to demystify the art of poem writing. 

News bit: This week I've been working on the new distribution system for the podcast, and the new website that will accompany it. I'm confident that you'll like it, and that you'll enjoy listening to it even more. 

This week's poem is called "At the research of the truth" that was inspired by my own life. The guest poem is called "The raven" that talks about this well known bird, from http://pingXgeertje.deviantart.com. Now I'm going to read my poem then the guest poem, I'll talk a bit about both, how I made mine, and a few tips and tricks for those of you who would like to start writing poems but find that too scary or mystical to even dare to try.

At the research of the truth

You seek but don't find it,

Or partially,

You chose a way that few understand,

You're in it body and soul,

There is nothing else but you and your thoughts,

Don't drown inside it,

Stay lucid,

Don't let yourself be blinded by truth,

And peacefully walk,

Of a decided step towards your destiny,

Who is not to save the world,

But to make it prettier,

Smile and the life will smile back at you,

Forgive those who doubted your choice,

Continue on this way,

And the truth will come to you.

You know what? I'm a curious guy! And what does a curious guy like me do? Well he thinks and he asks himself questions. 

One of the questions I'm asking myself constantly is wether what I'm doing is the right thing to do. I'm sure you've asked yourself this question a million times too. After some living time, I've come to the conclusion that, whatever you decide, if it feels right for you, then go and do it! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. 

As I said in the introduction, we're all at the research of truth, but too few actually find it, and those who find it might find only a portion of it, that's what I wanted the reader to feel when reading those few first lines. 

Then I go into more complicated and subtle territory. What do you do once you've found this piece of truth? Well because so few people find it, what you might make of it, certainly will astonish or concern most people in your entourage. 

But you know in your guts that what you're doing is the right thing to do, so you go ahead and ignore all those naysayers who're nagging you. Because you're ignoring them, only you and your thoughts remain.

But be careful because that's not because you're ignoring them, that it's the right thing to do, as other people's advice might prove invaluable. Some might understand your point of view and would like to help you, so don't ignore those.

Stay lucid, don't let the ignorance of a few blind you to the wisdom of others. 

Once you've made your mind and are supported by a selected few that have put their trust in you, start walking towards your goal. 

Start walking towards your destiny, well I must admit here, I've exaggerated a bit, just to make the poem a bit more epic.

But what is my destiny would you ask me? Well I would answer you that your destiny is to make the world a better place, and not to use this overly used sentence, I just said that it must be made prettier. 

I'm a big fan of the following saying: What you do, comes back to you. So if you're smiling, the world will smile back at you, but if you're angry, and disruptive, then the world will seem to treat you the same way. I also follow a simple rule in my life, that says "As you harm none, do as you wish", and it has served me well so far and I encourage you to start to use it too. 

A grudge cannot be held against someone forever, so once you've proved them wrong, and that what they doubted you couldn't do or what they thought was the right thing to do, then you've already exerted revenge on them, so the grudge doesn't have any reason to stay and you have to let it go. As you do it, the truth will come to you, as forgiveness and tolerance amongst other feelings will make you a happier person.

As a personal note here, if you believe in what I just said, go sign the charter for compassion at http://charterforcompassion.org/ and join the thousands that already sign it, me included. 

The guest poem for this week is called "The raven" and describes specially well this very common animal, who is still mysterious. 

The raven flies

Beats its dark wings

Open beak, calls and cries

A raven never sings

The raven lies

Hides his own pain

Tries to close his black eyes

A raven goes through rain

The raven dies

His wings don't beat

Spirit flies to the skies

The raven is complete

So let's talk about the raven will you? I really like birds, and the raven is no exception, I've chosen this poem because it describes it very well, and I didn't yet see a poem talking about it. 

Let's start with the obvious here, a raven flies! It beats its dark wings opens his beak, calls and cries. This is a fantastic description, I can totally see it in my head, the raven going from one house to the other or from a tree to the other, the image is as clear as crystal in my head, and that pleases me. Now the raven never sings, that's an interesting and intriguing sentence. Maybe because his voice is too rough, or maybe because he has often been used in horror movies, and that makes it sound horrible.

As all animals the raven should feel pain, and I like to think that he's intelligent enough to try and hide it. That's an interesting twist in the story. Now the reason he's closing his black eyes is because just like we do, we want to forget, and the best way to do that, is to not stare anymore at this cruel world. Now he goes through rain, it doesn't really match the other sentences, but I think it still adds something to the poem, something gloomy, something mystical. 

The raven dies! That's certainly a good cliffhanger for a poem, people or animal dying is certainly a dramatical end to any poem. So what happens when you die, of course your wings don't beat anymore, also relating to the first paragraph, your spirit flies to the skies, that's a really nice mystical touch to the poem, the raven is complete, and so is the poem. 

That's the end of this week's episode of my poems podcast, where I read poems, talk about them and try to demystify the art of poem writing. This week remember that you have to trust yourself to make the right decision, and stick to it. As well as loving all animals, including ravens. 

On a side note, the progression of the shift to the new podcast platform is well underway and should be operational at the end of the week, so the next episode will be on sunday as all others, and from the new delivery platform too. Have a great week everyone, see ya!

Direct download: My_poems_ep67.mp3
Category:general -- posted at: 4:00 AM
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