Free to Scream – a poem

What does this day mean to you?
Do you think of the red white and blue?

People we know died for us to exist.
Some lost their lives never being kissed.

I think of how it must have been.
But all I know is what they did back then.

Some scream there is no American Dreams.
I guess we’re lucky that we are free to scream.

Do you ever think about how other countries in far lands,
punish resistance and stealing candy by chopping off hands?

No, this country may not be the best,
but I would choose it over all the rest.

No matter the color of my skin
This country is where all have a chance to win.

 

fife and drum painting.

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Nonsense and Such: The Animal Minded or None-A Poem?

Lost Man in Chair

Nonsense and Such: The Animal Minded or None

by: Ronovan

I never saw the flight of a turtle dove,

its shell must weigh so much.

But when the howler monkey screeches

why does he choose to say it such?

 

And how much tross could an albatross tross

if an albatross could tross tross?

The truth of the matter is so simple.

You determine it by a coin toss.

 

Where does the rilla go

when he must be somewhere?

Wherever it must be,

he will go in his suit of hair

 

What does the snake wear with its rattle,

when it attends a formal function?

Whatever it is, it must be secure,

lest there be a wardrobe malfunction.

 

And how will the old coot bandi about,

when the season does change?

Most likely find another place,

but still in down under range.

 

Some may wonder what has happened,

to the mind of this odd man

I will explain to you someday,

when I can catch it with my hand.

 

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Words they do… – a poem

Word, the most violent and deadly of devices.

Some cause hurt will some bring sacrifices.

This singular blade of patronization

may bring hope or one’s death causation.

My breath is shallow    get off of me,

those are words below a bended knee.

They are screamed, shouted     cried in mass,

no wonder the chants have turned to “You can kiss my ass.”

Young man, lying cuffed     down on the ground,

pleas of “sorry”, “I’m good”, authorities stand around.

He’s sick and vomiting from fear    confused,

all the man asked is, “What drugs have you used?”

One word can turn belief from one to the other.

The right takedown   then a lineal belief of a brother.

Words, they do good    they do harm    they kill    they agree.

What does the future hold for this land of the free?

 
 
 
 
“One cannot change history, but can create the future.” – Ronovan Hester
 

Standard Poetry Image for Friday

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

 

Hammers have no Power – a poem

One cannot erase the least of the past,
the memories remain, now, even more, held fast.
It can’t be torn down with a hundred thousand blows.
But unity, voice, and pen have power to transpose.
Not having lost the what, where and were,
one has the knowledge to create the future.
 
 
“One cannot change history, but can create the future.”
 

Ronovan's Image for Thursday Poems

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

 

Amaze Me – A Poem

How you amaze me
Every day
I think of ways
You give me life and meaning

 

No one who
Could be like you
And not change me

 

How you amaze me
How you amaze me
How  you amaze me

 

I travel through
a black blue sea
until I can be
just one of your days

 

Finding words
Like pulling nerves
Too many and all painful
Just let me be pain free
Once in my life

 

How you amaze me
How you amaze me
How you amaze me

 

Just once in my life
Make me pain free.

 

 

I used to call these my lyrical poems. I suppose all poems are lyrical…with the right accompaniment. What you see is what came out as it came out.

Standard Poetry Image for Friday

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

TO SOAR – a poem

I miss the beauty while in the pain.

I forget the truth while fighting the lies.

I lose confidence while filthy in self-pity.

I

I

I

jailed in the mind-itching madness of insanity

the heart atrophies one beat at a time.

for the lack of…

what

of

of one touch

one touch

is that it

is that all it takes

all it takes for the heart to burst

from my chest and to soar

to soar across the lands

to soar across seas

to soar

to

to soar to… sweet… whispers

to… healing

or is it to soar to beat faster

and faster

and faster…

with each touch of lips and fingertips

is that mending

or is that sweet beauty

is that sweet pain

sweet insanity

sweet madness

the madness of a love so strong it defies the world

defines what love is what love has never been

oh that day

that day is going down in the works of historians

is going down in the songs of mankind

is going down

and all the pain, the tragedy,

the endless seconds passing in a hell of denial

will be soothed and released by the whispers

of…

by…

 

Ronovan writes standard poetry image

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

‘The Future’ a Haibun

I am looking to the future and am staying positive we will be a better place. There are many outcomes, but with a continued and determined effort the goal is in reach and the winning score is taken. Continued effort. Continued education of the masses, and not only for the Whites. Continued inspection of all contributions to racism and the influences ever how nuanced they are. I stay not hopeful, but positive that it will happen.

the future is bright

after the dark times have past

we all overcome

 

This is related Haibun to the NEXT Décima Poem Challenge that will Be out tomorrow.

HERE is some of my recent poetry related to Black Lives Matter to scroll through.

Tuesday Poetry. Standard Image.

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

 

‘Torch Memory’ a Poem

It was a dark night back in that early May.

Orange light lit up the windows bright like the day.

Peeking through the curtains late that night,

there before my eyes was a truly evil sight.

My kin and his friend tied to the massive schoolyard tree.

I did not know then who these masked men might be.

White hoods and robes, with burning torches, glowed.

They slashed them both until arms heavy slowed.

No more energy did they have for more blows.

Both white and Black bloodied skin and clothes.

Released from the ropes, they both fell to earth.

White robes kicking what they thought of their worth.

The kin stayed hidden for weeks till fine.

Then he and his Black friend hung out by the schoolyard sign.

Being friends with another color back in 75,

was not the best idea if you wanted to stay alive.

As a teen in the South, you live your own mind.

And to most, there’s only one kind.

 

Tuesday Poetry. Standard Image.

An autobiographical poem. I don’t mean to take on the Black Lives Matter as if it were something that has happened to me. This experience is what imprinted me what hatred and evil does and how wrong it is to look at or treat anyone different than another person. That’s why I shared this.

HERE is some of my recent poetry related to Black Lives Matter to scroll through.

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

 

The darker the skin…

The darker the skin,
the darker the chance.

The darker the chance,
the darker the future.

The darker the future,
the darker the life.

The darker the life,
the darker the death.

 

the darker image

HERE is some of my recent poetry related to Black Lives Matter to scroll through.

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Payback: a Décima Poem.

My entry for this weeks Décima Poetry Challenge No.4 ITCH. (A New Challenge here on ronovanwrites.com)

I like to do these with the, what I call art, images I do, but this week I had to do a Book Review for my LitWorldInterviews site and I just got too tired. Thus, we have only the text.

 

Payback

You took time, with a deadeye aim,

because you saw me scratch an itch,

this wound to my head needs a stitch.

Feel so bad, don’t know my own name.

Not hiding, because there’s no shame.

Get ready for when I get healed,

for your ending will be revealed.

It’s too late when you hear the crack.

That’s when it’s time for some payback.

Then I’ll be carried far afield.

 

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Mad Delight, a Décima Poem.

My entry for this weeks Décima Poetry Challenge No.3 MAD. (A New Challenge here on ronovanwrites.com)

 

Mad Delight

Never attempt a style this mad,
you’ll undoubtedly go insane.
Then you split wide open a vein,
making so sad, your new comrade.

I’d surely be labeled a cad,
not to mention the sheer delight,
of enjoying the chance to write,
a new form of aged expression,
to let out some dark confession.
Now, imaginations…take flight!

Mad Delight Poem Image mad hatter

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

ADDLED-BRAINED CAT LOVER: A Thank you Haiku Poem to a Feline.

ADDLED-BRAINED CAT LOVER

 

Felled by voiding blows,

I stumbled through life numbing days,

‘Til saved by a cat.

 

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Sweet Dreams a Décima Poem.

My entry for this weeks Décima Poetry Challenge No.1 Lake. (A New Challenge here on ronovanwrites.com)

 

Sweet Dreams

To sink into a fiery lake.
Once felt, would not be named a sin.
If it were, I’d do it again.
Our fire couldn’t be a mistake.

Their fear of the snake, such a fake.
Hide in the dark with their wet dreams,
fearing their truth’s not what it seems.
I know what I want, there’s no catch,
Cause there’ll never be another match.
I can’t help but scream in my dreams.

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Love in the Air.

Love in the Air

On soft breeze a divine bouquet
her invitation is discrete,
to imbibe in her gifts so sweet,
and my heart with joy must obey.
Eternal beasts come into play.

Distance is an icy lover,
these shivers I cannot cover.
Time will tell the battles end.
I’ll travel along that soft wind,
to love to rediscover.

How to write an Espinela or Décima poem.

How to write an Espinela/Décima poem.

The Traditional Décima Poem

Décima poetry is a 10 line stanza with 8 syllables per line. The rhyming pattern is abbaaccddc. Using the 10 lines there are generally two ways to organize: The 10 lines, or breaking the 10 lines into two stanzas using abba/accddc.

The abba/accddc requires either a period or semicolon after the fourth line break.

Topics are as varied as your imagination.  With the Décima the subject matter tends to be more socially conscience than some poems. Philosophical, political, dogma, and religious ideas are among the topics.  Although, it can also be in the form of satire, criticism, and insulting to an enemy/opponent in a situation.

Just imagine if the candidates for a public office decided to write Décima challenges. First, one candidate would write a 10 line stanza and have a decimista/decimero read it aloud at the opponents next TV appearance. The opponent then responds with another 10 line stanza and a decimista/decimero would return the favor. This would go on for ever how long it will, and sometimes ends up as a song of challenge.

Back in the day, the poems were written anonymously, thus the reason for a decimero. I imagine it was always known who the writer was, at least in matters of romance…maybe.

The reason this form of poetry is also called Espinela is because of Vicente Espinel who was a Spanish writer, musician, soldier, prisoner of pirates, and finally a priest. He is sometimes noted as the founder of the décima or the one to popularize it once again.

Tools I use in my Haiku Challenges each week will definitely be even more useful here. First there is RhymeZone.com, Thesaurus.com, and finally HowManySyllables.com. Look for the new Espinela Poetry Challenge beginning 4/17/2020.

An example of an abba/accddc décima:

On soft breeze a divine bouquet
her invitation is discrete,
to imbibe in her gifts so sweet,
and my heart with joy must obey.

Eternal beasts come into play.
Distance is an icy lover,
these shivers I cannot cover.
Time will tell the battles end.
I’ll travel along that soft wind,
to love to rediscover.

If you like, there is a Décima Challenge here each Wednesday.

Here is the quick and perhaps easier description of a Décima Poem:

I’ve had a much valued part of my poetry family let me know that my description might not be clear enough, so I’ve come up with this. There are 10 lines (stanza) of poetry, but unlike other poetry that rhymes there is a strict set rhyming pattern we must stick to.
In addition each line must only have 8 syllables.
The rhyme pattern is;
a
b
b
a
a
c
c
d
d
c

But remember, if you want to be a slight bit different, you can do the four lines of abba, then the six lines of accddc.

Décima as Song

Songs have been created for years using Décima poetry. Using the abba/accddc two stanza method and repeat until you have your song. There will be a more complete post about this another time, just know Décima plays a large part in the Latin American culture.

In Ecuador, the they do a forty-four line Décima with a four-line opening, no set pattern of rhyme, and each of the four lines from the opening stanza goes on to appear later in the song, although perhaps a bit modified.

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Indulge to Bulge. A poem in the Décima or Espinela style.

A new Poetry Challenge is coming and here is another of my examples. The How To follows.

Indulge to Bulge

Blissful longing of butter fat,
Floating above the sea of blame
Renders worthy of the blue flame.
What’s now a spare tire, once was flat.

Crying for more from the spoiled brat,
Brings forth the lazy quelling hands.
Then blames the obese on lax glands.
Fail to heed the words of the wise
Leads to chaffed thighs or heart that dies.
Toss the flans, cans, and frying pans.

 

 

10 lines with each having 8 syllables.

Sometimes people divide the lines into two stanzas of four and six. A pause after the fourth which means a period or semicolon is warranted. Some divide in other ways depending on where they learned Espinela, but all are 10 lines and…

…8 syllables to each line with

a rhyming pattern of abba/accddc

Traditional themes of old have been philosophical, religious, lyrical, political, and satirical humor. But you can do whatever you like as the theme can be anything, but I may be setting themes or a couple of words as part of the challenge.

This form of poetry is known as an Espinela or décima poem of octameter (more or less eight syllables). The form is named after Vicente Gómez Martínez-Espinel (baptized December 28, 1550, Ronda, Málaga, Spain—died February 4, 1624, Madrid) an expelled university student who entered the army, was a rogue, and eventually was ordained into the priesthood. He was a contemporary of Cervantes., who is probably most known for writing Don Quixote. Espinel is alternately credited with creating the style or reviving it. Whichever it is, we have it today.

Again, the rhyming pattern is always

A
B
B
A
A
C
C
D
D
C

There are even songs created of multiple Espinela Poems united.

In Spain these poems were often sung or spoken, with the topics being philosophical, religious, lyrical, political, and even humorous with the humor being satire in nature noting the weakness or foolish act of the recipient. Often a challenge would be made by the decimero, the person who read aloud the anonymously written poem, to the recipient who is to respond in turn. This would start a duel of poetry, and possibly creating an interesting song of responses and challenges.

It is up to you as to how you structure your Espinela, as there really is no set in stone structure, only the syllables and rhyming pattern.

Childish Heart. A poem in the Décima or Espinela style.

A new Poetry Challenge is coming and here is my example. The How To follows.

Childish Heart

It’s a beautiful world we’re on.
To choose a path of divisions.
Our most foolish decisions.
All chances for atonement blown?

Child-like laughs, in mischievous tone,
Remind me of more hopeful days.
Dreams possible through class essays.
Believing not in might but can.
Not knowing us and them but man.
Now’s time to turn to younger ways?

 

10 lines with each having 8 syllables.

Sometimes people divide the lines into two stanzas of four and six. A pause after the fourth which means a period or semicolon is warranted. Some divide in other ways depending on where they learned Espinela, but all are 10 lines and…

…8 syllables to each line with

a rhyming pattern of abba/accddc

Traditional themes of old have been philosophical, religious, lyrical, political, and satirical humor. But you can do whatever you like as the theme can be anything, but I may be setting themes or a couple of words as part of the challenge.

This form of poetry is known as an Espinela or décima poem of octameter (more or less eight syllables). The form is named after Vicente Gómez Martínez-Espinel (baptized December 28, 1550, Ronda, Málaga, Spain—died February 4, 1624, Madrid) an expelled university student who entered the army, was a rogue, and eventually was ordained into the priesthood. He was a contemporary of Cervantes., who is probably most known for writing Don Quixote. Espinel is alternately credited with creating the style or reviving it. Whichever it is, we have it today.

Again, the rhyming pattern is always

A
B
B
A
A
C
C
D
D
C

There are even songs created of multiple Espinela Poems united.

In Spain these poems were often sung or spoken, with the topics being philosophical, religious, lyrical, political, and even humorous with the humor being satire in nature noting the weakness or foolish act of the recipient. Often a challenge would be made by the decimero, the person who read aloud the anonymously written poem, to the recipient who is to respond in turn. This would start a duel of poetry, and possibly creating an interesting song of responses and challenges.

It is up to you as to how you structure your Espinela, as there really is no set in stone structure, only the syllables and rhyming pattern.

You need to cry…to breathe. Men, I’m talking about us…you women too.

To the artificial us, the expected supposed to be, and to humanity begging to shine through, I give you one piece of advice. Cry. I began this thread of idea to speak to the men of the world and their need to cry, in order for them to release all the pent up fears, angers, humiliations, and confusions, but the audience later broadens to be all inclusive.

Through this release through crying we, as men, might avoid the catastrophes we inevitably create for ourselves. Catastrophes created by fear of failure, anger and humiliation leading to obstinance and inflexibility. Confusion of not knowing what to do with all these feelings we’ve been told and ingrained with not to let show, let alone to allow exist inside of us. Again, the fear of that confusion because if we have these sensitive thoughts, feelings, and reactions then people might think we are more woman than man.

But, as I thought of how men in society should support man to cry, I thought also of how women should let us cry as well. Then I realized that society doesn’t allow women to cry freely without judgement either. Crying is seen as weak. Crying by a man is often thought of as showing their feminine side, as though having a feminine side is a bad thing.

This led me to the thought of why we still refer to behaviors as feminine or masculine.

I believe crying and laughter are the two most powerful healing and coping mechanisms every person has available to them, and it’s free to do either. No prescription necessary or diagnosis required.

Just as men are seen as weak for crying, so to are women. I believe that view along with that about men has led to many wrong decisions in the 20th and 21st centuries that caused great losses. This is not just an opinion I have about the U.S. but one for all countries around the world. Some even worse than America itself.

Many of us have or will experience a life altering trauma. We’re afraid to admit it, afraid to show we are scared or hurting or completely lost. A good first step is to let yourself cry. It works. I speak from experience.

So to humanity, I once again say…cry, and cry often. But also remember to laugh just as much. It’s all about balance in ones life to have a good and healthy life.

Cry like a man?
Cry like a human.
Cry like a babe calling for the need of telling the world it needs relief of something.

Wash away the poisons of loss
of grief
of fear
of anger
of the loneliness of being you.

Cry from no one listening
of no one noticing
you are no longer the you they know or you recognize.

Cry…so you can then breathe…and laugh once again.

Void of The Loneliest Soul.

The emptiness of the void is betrayed by a burning cold.

A cold burning for what it once had?

A cold burning for what is misses?

A cold burning for lack of a returning echo.

 

A returning echo begun by a screaming heart.

A screaming heart for fear of abandoning?

A screaming heart for long felt longing?

A screaming heart that begs for one whisper of hello.

 

One whisper of hello carried on the breeze of a crone’s joy.

A crone’s joy laughing in its innocence?

A crone’s joy reveling in its faintest smile?

A crone’s joy unknowing of its blind coldness.

 

Blind coldness spreading over land and sea without ending.

Without ending of a story that never was?

Without ending of a river of salt stained skin?

Without ending of a forever dream that was never meant to be dreamt.

 

To be dreamt in the quiet hours of the darkest moments.

Darkest moments hiding sadness?

Darkest moments hiding torment?

Darkest moments embracing with caring sorrow.

 

Caring sorrow befriends the loneliest soul

The loneliest soul hoping for too much?

The loneliest soul dreaming too much?

The loneliest soul  wanting the void to be empty and burning cold no longer.

 

The loneliest soul…

The loneliest soul…

The loneliest

soul.

 

© 2019 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Passionate Destiny.

The future is full

With passionate destiny

There are no dead dreams.

Passionate Destiny Haiku on Shooting Star image.

Please visit the other entries with links in the comments of the challenge post. They deserve the attention and admiration.

For my Weekly Haiku Challenge. Please join in and add to the family. If you haven’t written a Haiku before, click HERE and there is also a link on that “how to” post that links to instructions on other types of Haiku you might enjoy, such as a Haibun, which is great, because you write a paragraph about something, maybe a nice memory, then you write a Haiku that tells that story in three lines.