I
love me
despite all flaws
love
you for
who you are
all
people are
in my heart
we
all share
one planet - love
magical
universe - what's
not to love
Jan H. Hellberg (2.10.2025)
We’re writing Hay(na)ku poetry for W3 179 and Michelle Ayon Navajas is the poet of the week and she have us the topic „love“:
W3 Prompt #179: Wea’ve Written Weekly
The image was again created by Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E).
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.:/;.:/;.:/;.:/;.:/;.:/;.:/;.:
..:/;..:/;..:/;..:/;..:/;..:/;
..:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;.
..:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;.
..:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;...:/;.
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..:/;..:/;..:/;..:/;...:/;:/;.
...:/.:/;.:/;.:/;.....:/;.:/;.
______________________________
Jan H. Hellberg (25.09.2025)
This was written for W3 Prompt #178.
I did not fully follow the rules for this one. But could not but follow my inspiration for this poem when I read the promt.
There is a famous poem that I love which is the other inspiration for it, Christian Morgensterns „Fisches
Nachtgesang“ (translates to „Nighttime song of the fish“. You have to scroll a bit, but will easily find it)
All life is by definition
A bittersweet edition
It is alive
And will be dad
Sigh' Lance, bro Ken, bye "singing"
There's magic in every beginning
And what sounds dumb
When you're out, Don Trump
Everything will end
As much as the heart spent
Jan H. Hellberg (18.09.2025)
This poem shall be my ode to ambiguity of the spoken word. One reason I love live performances for, to watch them but also my own performances. Check out below if you’re impatient and thought this poem felt weird.
And the other inspiration for this poem came from exactly that, one of the poems I know by heart and recited many times over the years. From that poem the German speaking community knows a quote and some even a whole line. I’m speaking about the famous poem „Stufen“ by Hermann Hesse (The title is German for steps). The quote goes like this:
Und jedem Anfang wohnt ein Zauber inne
I translated the line to the following and used this line in my poem.
There’s magic in every beginning
And while this quote is often used not everyone knows the whole poem and with that its context of growing further step by step throughout life and that it’s a series of farewells and new beginnings.
You can read the whole poem and a nice translation of Hesse’s Stufen here.
Here is now the solution of the riddle of this poem if you like, although, there is no right or wrong, just two poems with same sound, two meanings and two endings.
All life is by definition
A bitter sweet edition
It is a life
And will be dead
Silence broken by singing
There's magic in every beginning
And what sounds dumb
When you're outdone trump
Every thing will end
As much as the hearts bend
This was written for this week’s W3, Lisa encourages us to write about endings, beginnings, or both in a Quadrille. A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words going back to the dVerse Poets Pub.
Note: I recommend reading the whole poem first, maybe loud, even if you know what it’s about. Image someone would read it to you.
level refer
deified
rorrim
erup nees eritne
ssalg naelc ni
ecnatsid morf
yad yreve
noitcelfer
suoremun fo ecaf
em rof thgis
weiv esrevni sulp
level refer
deified
Jan H. Hellberg (16.09.2025)
And now to clear things up (best put your mobile screen in landscape view):
level refer refer level
deified deified
rorrim mirror
erup nees eritne entire seen pure
ssalg naelc ni in clean glass
ecnatsid morf from distance
yad yreve every day
noitcelfer reflection
suoremun fo ecaf face of numerous
em rof thgis sight for me
weiv esrevni sulp plus inverse view
level refer refer level
deified deified
This was written for dVerse. Merril is hosting. Join us here.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator.
You dream of other cities or another shore,
These streets you flee haunt you, as they are at your core;
Your past is crafted into all these walls,
Your footsteps echo back like they were distant calls;
No ship or road could take you far enough away,
And what you lost is lost within, thus you must stay.
You think this vicious city might have trapped you,
Black ruins your future whatever you may do;
But have you ever walked it's hidden alleys,
The quiet paths, forsaken hills and lonely valleys?
There in those corners that were once despair and fright
You find the city's soul - your soul - and ample light;
Replace escape plans and discover - connect the dots,
Embrace its winding streets, its dark and golden spots;
You will no longer seek another shore,
As you have found your home right at the city core.
Jan H. Hellberg (April 2025)
This poem was inspired by C. P. Cavafy’s „The City“.
A friend had sent me the poem „The City“, a psychologically charged poem about the inescapability of oneself, one’s past and choices. Although I liked it a lot I felt at that moment that it was too dark for me and I wanted to write a response to it. The result is the poem above. The first stanza is kind of a renarration of the original poem „The City“, after that follows my twist of the theme.
Sanaa is our host for dVerse’ Open Link Night where we post and poem wer like.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator.
JH: underground still life
nobody is looking up
all eyes glued to screens
ML: lights whirring by out-
-side in a tunnel of stars
JH: only one passenger
with pen and paper pondering
she'll cast stars in words
ML: descriptive imagery
a patterned subway tile
bleeding together
JH: losing ourselves for good
in the tunnels of our lives
ML: passing through doors
while other people pass through
on the other side
By Melissa Lemay from Mom with a Blog and Jan H. Hellberg
This poem Was inspired by the views on the London Underground the local subway (for readers from across the atlantic). Indeed I missed to take the photo, maybe, because I did not want to pull out my mobile as a response to the realisation. Big thanks to Melissa to join into the creative endeavour of a Rengay again for this. Our 3rd one.
In the hope that again more people will be rooting for real connection and put down their screens and talk, even in the underground/subway.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator again.
I harness a power
From deep in the ground,
To bring light to others
When I am around.
This gift I was given —
A blessing, no less,
Connects people and purpose
For max' effectiveness
With deep dedication
No promise grows dust;
As man of my word
I earn people's trust.
Ideas and perspectives
Do make my heart warmer,
New connections I find
As creative brainstormer.
I see in each person,
The momentum burn —
I invest in their growth
Help them thrive and learn.
Jan H. Hellberg (12.04.2025)
Explanation: Writing a Poem Based on CliftonStrengths
This poem is inspired by the CliftonStrengths assessment, a tool developed by Gallup to help individuals identify and develop their unique natural talents. Each stanza of the poem reflects specific strength themes—clusters of talent that, when nurtured, become powerful tools for growth, leadership, and impact. Of course the selection was based on my test results. However, if you have similar results or strengths those stanzas might resonate with you as well.
Here’s how the poem mirrors some key themes from CliftonStrengths:
Empathy & Positivity
“To make people feel better, / When I am around.”
These lines resonate with Empathy, the ability to intuitively understand others’ emotions, and Positivity, the uplifting energy that makes people feel good.
Arranger
“This gift I was given — / A blessing, no less,
Connects people and purpose / For max‘ effectiveness.”
An arranger thrives on organising people and resources, creating flexible systems that lead to efficient, effective outcomes.
Responsibility
“No commitments take dust / As man of my word…”
These lines speak to Responsibility — taking ownership seriously and following through on promises.
Ideation
“Ideas and perspectives / Do make my heart warmer…”
This celebrates the Ideation strength, where new concepts and angles spark creativity and joy.
Developer & Individualisation
“I see in each person, the momentum burn…”
Developers love helping others grow, and Individualisation sees the unique value in each person.
By blending the language of poetry with the essence of these strengths, I reflected on them and found a way to better remember the language I like to use for those strengths not only for self-awareness.
This poem is a manifestation of how personal insights can be transformed into creative expression — a reflection of my belief that personal development and artistic output can, and should not often, go hand in hand.
The image and text were this time created in dialogue with ChatGPT.
Tarfalling hint a bafoon
On a gaigu galumphing groon
I was shishang my razoon
Like vervy sooge gadroon
Gaught glight of a carcoon persoon
And tallmost becooked the samoon
No rimiscule tarment too zoom
I ledge with my wirrbalcoon
From the hinthunt carcoon galoon
Jan H. Hellberg (29.1.2025)
This was written for Mish’s Quadrille prompt at dVerse. We write 44 word poems and this time they have to contain the word hint.
I took my poem from a year ago, the Raging Raccoon Lagoon as inspiration for another dada like poem and went one level deeper for some neologism. I am e. g. very happy with the portmanteau „rimiscule“, a combination of ridiculous and miniscule.
I got the word „portmanteau“ from Humpty Dumpty, when he explains the poem Jabberwocky to Alice. There might be better expressions for this in English, but I love the sound of this French word „portemanteau“.
The image was again created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E 3)
It was a lot of fun to see what Bing Image Creator made of my poem, and I want to share some more genius interpretations, if this AI can be called genius already 😀.
left the old
clothes and devices
making space
kept plenty belongings
loved — emotional value
empty shelf
empty cupboard abyss
land undiscovered
discovering
hidden inner terrain
self-filled
lived — all the little things
dumped just a few beliefs
spacious mark
relationships, ideas
lift the old
Jan H. Hellberg (14.01.2025)
It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse and De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo is hosting. Come join, read, have fun.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E 3).
At first I did not like the unreadable gibberish words, but then I actually appreciated them how they are sitting on the shelves just like old and forgotten, maybe even broken items.
The poem form is a solo Rengay. Rengay is most of the time used as a collaborative poetic form of six linked haiku-style verses, created by Garry Gay in 1992. It focuses on a unifying theme, with a specific structure for two or three poets, making it distinct from traditional Japanese renga and renku.
I needed a bit of structure to create a poem without rhyme, which is something that does not come naturally. For me writing poems come naturally in rhyme. I can’t help it.
Silky Owlet / Photographed in Papua New Guinea / Michael Sammut
oh Silky Owlet
did you inspire Picasso?
nature's art
unmatched
Jan H. Hellberg (8.1.2025)
Melissa from Mom with a Blog is hosting Poetics at dVerse. Michael Sammut has graciously allowed the use of his amazing photography. Were challenged to choose one of four of his nature photos to inspire a poem. Feel free to join in or just enjoy the poems of our lovely community.
jh: mount wrapped present
valley of hopes and dreams
spanking stream of time
ml: ribbons and bits of paper
littering the landscape
jh: daylight delirium
I had a feverish dream
christmas
craze
ml: up all night
must make sure
the elf leaves to the North Pole
jh: chasing them around the tree
nutcracker, reindeer, snowman
ml: displaced ornaments
and tinsel – arguments of
"who ate the cookies?"
Melissa Lemay and Jan H. Hellberg (December 2024)
This is a Rengay with seasonal theme by Melissa Lemay from Mom With a Blog and me.
Rengay is a collaborative poetic form of six linked haiku-style verses, created by Garry Gay in 1992. It focuses on a unifying theme, with a specific structure for two or three poets, making it distinct from traditional Japanese renga and renku. You can find more details about Rengay here.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator (28.12.2024)
Photo by Charlotte H. M. Hellberg (Oct. 2024)
I speak with respect of me and others,
Responsible for what I feel, do and what bothers,
I focus on facts and wherefrom reasons stem,
With whom I communicate to see what moves them.
I accept myself just in the way I am,
Because I am perfect, my mind is my realm!
I learned from the past and made with it my peace,
As self-confident, powerful woman I'm always at ease!
I conquer the morning and day by that measures,
I conquer my life and keep daily three treasures.
Enjoying the beauty around, I spread happiness,
I'm making my life more profound, nothing less.
I am but a spirit in this bodily temple of mine,
Until I fully let go and eternally shine
Jan H. Hellberg (2018)
We did a group coaching where we would bring tools to each other for our development. Thinking about a life vison and crafring a misson statement was the subject of two sessions we did. And I wrote a poem for a friend from their mission statement. This was the result and now I took a moment to review this and make a song with Suno from it.
Here is „Until I fully let go“ for you on Spotify.
I find this a great approach, to match creativity and fun with something serious, like our life vision and mission statement. Let me know what you think.
And I’m very happy my 10 year old daughter Charlie did provide me with one of her lovely processed photos for this post.
It is OLN at dVerse and we can link up any poem we want. Sanaa is hosting from A Dash of Sunny and there will be a live session on Saturday.
This one was impressive, stronger.
She passed! Can't tell where things sitting!
Then again I tidy make things cleaner.
Planning, fighting are no longer,
No one knows when she'll be hitting.
She's life threatening! Now I'm living keener.
My enemy,Pure energy, could I've been wronger?
Whirlwind's eye, I'm sitting knitting,
Alice Dora, hurry - Miss Demeanor!
She got powerful and stronger,
All my clouds they are no longer!
Jan H. Hellberg (15.11.2024)
Alice is and will be a recurring theme on this blog, see this post Slumber party with Alice. I think that’s why I loved the stories of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass so much. I probably always felt a bit like her. Wow, this world is full of wonders. Yes, some are scary, but even that sometimes helps, in managed doses, to get my brain going.
I sometimes explain the condition of ADHD with that very image of a hurricane.
Like many others I can often even „hyperfocus“, and do one task and work for hours even without noticing. Today and tonight I did a weeks work and solved issues I thought would take me ages. This is also called flow, but I feel for ADHD, hyperfocus is a better label.
However, I’m sitting in the eye of a hurricane, when I look up everything is flying around (in my thoughts), my wife, my kids, my family, my friends, our house, the works that need to be done, the tidying up that never seems to finish, the paper work, the work for my job of course, my many extra tasks, that I need by the way for my brain to function (that one is a catch 22). And when I think I managed to focus on one item, it often quickly gets out of sight again. To the extend that I often can’t remember important things I just realised I still need to take care of. Hence a paper notebook and lists have become my best friends. Only need to remember looking in or at them from time to time. 😉
There seems to be often no middle way, either one thing and I can’t even stop doing it to eat, drink etc., or the whirlwind.
Feel free to react to both the poem and also own experiences with hyperfocus etc.
This was written for Laura’s MTB prompt: A Trillonet of Wild Winds. Wild winds are our topic and the given poetry style is 14 lines, with 4 tercets and a couplet, ABC rhymed and AA, BB or CC. I used a iambic tetrameter, but broke with it in the third verses.
The image was created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E 3).
What has happened?
What the heck?
What's he getting at?
What? He's back?
What are they cooking?
What's misunderstood?
What were they thinking,
What? She's too good,
What's the catch?
Whom will they target?
What's the match?
What's done is done!
What the f***!
Jan H. Hellberg (15.11.2024)
And of course f*** stands for „fetch“, otherwise it would not rhyme.
The funny thing I find is, right now everyone understands the poem and many the feeling. However, some day in the future the exact events will not be the first anymore to come up in our minds and some day this will all be forgotten, that’s for sure. Everything ends one day, one way or another.
Tuesday De did host the Quadrille at dVerse, our little poetry form of 44 words including one given word. The word was „what“, you guessed it right.
Image with Bing Image Creator again (powered by DALL-E 3)
I like to think and dwell
I like to think and dwell
With ink on a spike from hell
With ink on a spike from hell
With ink I think to like
Dwell on hell and from a spike
Held in my hand as the mike
Held in my hand as the mike
Land rhymes that felt to strike
Land rhymes that felt to strike
As Mike felt the rhymes to land
My strike held in that hand
The drink that hides dead limes
The drink that hides dead limes
In a shell rides us mad many times
In a shell rides us mad many times
Time's a shell that hides the dead
In many lime's drink, rides us mad
With limes as ink from a drink
That hides the dead many think
A shell that felt to the hand
That strike us mad to land
My rides held a spike mike in times
And I dwell like hell on rhymes
Jan H. Hellberg (01.11.2024)
Today we do Paradelle poems with Grace at dVerse. A very nice challenge and I love the story behind it as it started as a parody form invented by Billy Collins. Read more about this in the respective post at dVerse on the Paradelle Form. Come along and read some more or join in to write!
A little update. I had friends a long time ago playing black metal. I just had to try to make this a black metal track, as I thought the lyrics did fit. Here it is with the help of Suno:
The image was created with Bing Image Creator (02.11.2024, powered by DALL·E 3)
Promise
Promise to be true.
Yes, I do!
Promise to reflect,
To show respect.
Promise to listen, sitting still.
Yes, I will!
Promise to be fair,
And to always care.
Promise to keep fighting.
Promise to keep writing
Your own story.
Oh, don't you worry!
Jan H. Hellberg (31.10.2024)
It was Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Lilian was our pubtender, she asked us to include the word “promise” in the body of our poems of exactly 44 words (excl. title).
Image with Bing Image Creator (31.10.2024)
AI image with Bing Image Creator (11.01.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
The whole day I observed my prey
And often I did just fool around and play
I enjoyed the food I was served
And loved the warm and cosy places
I would just imitate
And repeat the moves and words of others
I was a copy cat
On stage reaping the fruit
That others had planted
I looked majestic, but did not feel that way
Years went by
Before I discovered my true nature
And then one day
My hunting instincts awoke
Now the night has come
My favourite time of the day
Time to hunt my poetic prey
And finally at the end of the day
When everyone sleeps I'll have it all my way
Jan H. Hellberg (11.01.2024)
Maybe some explanation will make the background more understandable. I am reciting poetry and acting on stage since I was about 7 years. Always as a side activity and hobby, although today I usually get some pay. And I feel that I really got quite good over the years.
However, I was always only using the words of others. Of course I took what resonated with me, but I did not feel that all this was special. I also wrote many poems over the years, mostly for my wife, but never published any, because I felt they were not good enough. And probably every author, poet, artist, etc. knows this: „It’s never good enough“. We are often more critical with our own work than with that of others.
And the reference to the night, when I can „have it all my way“, that is because I am often an owl or to stay with the image above a nighty active feline creature. That’s when I have the calm and no distractions and can follow my thoughts and passions. Family and work are demanding, but without taking time for myself I could not do all that I’m doing. Writing poems is one of my counterbalance in life.
Wrote this originally when Dora from Dreams from a Pilgrimage was hosting in January 2024 at dVerse. The challenge was to find our Creatures of the blank page.
Created with Bing Image Creator (29.03.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
This time I’m recycling one of my own older poems and this leaves the lovely result of one poem in two languages. The story behind the poem follows below.
First the original in German.
Weiße Tür
Ohne Kauf
Mann läuft schnell
Tür rollt auf
Tür bleibt steh'n
Mann sieht hell
Mann bleibt steh'n
Stirn schwillt schnell
Jan H. Hellberg (5.5.2011)
And now the new take on this.
Door so white
Handless side
Man runs light
Door does slide
Door stays stuck
Man sees bright
Man stands struck
Brow swells with might
Jan H. Hellberg (29.03.2024)
The story is straightforward, a sliding door that usually opens the whole corridor got stuck right in front of me. As I was walking fast and talking to someone left of me, looking in their direction I did not notice the door got stuck and ran into it with full speed. I grew a horn that day and seemingly squeezed some nerv as some part on my forehead stayed numb for a while and was tingling for ages after that.
Sanaa is hosting Open Link Night at dVerse, the night we may choose any poem to post. Comme join us!
Our japanese cherry today, shortly before the burst of buds (26.03.2024, TH)
Spring is here and I feel more energy again.
Ideas are flourishing in my mind. Although I know half of them won't bear any fruit it's everytime an inspiring sight and feeling.
I look outside and the Japanese cherry tree in our back yard is just not yet starting to bloom.
I'm longing for that mesmerising sight.
I look out for a little bit warmer weather to hang up my hammock under the Japanese cherry. My favourite spot for a nap or thinking and planting future seeds for colourful crazy, indigo inspiring or fascinating fresh thoughts and projects.
Long for burst of buds
Air vibrates with energy
Cherry blossoms soon
Jan H. Hellberg (26.03.2024)
And here our cherry from a previous year in full bloom:
Frank J. Tassone is tending the dVerse Poets’ Haibun Monday, where we write about the first Cherry Blossoms (hatsu hana). See at dVerse for more information about the format and how to join in.
Our Norwegian forest cats (Nov. 2021)
Sharpen your sentences like the claws of clever cats
Kind of killing inner critics from the category rats
Climbing countless trees, despite the rain in gallons
Becoming by beats of counting clocks fabulous feline felons
And at times the hunt hops in thy talons!
Jan H. Hellberg (19.3.2024)
Inspired again by cats, I decided to post this time a real photo of our beloved feline fellows. No photoshop, nothing they are really that photogenic.
And as before in this poem about the Whiskered Versifier I like the image of the poet, like a cat waiting for the right moment and it’s prey. And little hidden extra, 4 lines of this poem here have 9 words. Enough symbolism for this one.
It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and De Jackson is hosting. We’re playing with 44 words around „sharp“ ideas and inspirations. Come and join or read the results.
The tough swimmer (14.07.2024, created with Bing Image Creator powered by DALL-E 3)
This one came to me just the way it is and I don’t want to comment or explain it. If you want to know more about Alice check out the previous posts.
As a child, I could not swim
In that pool of tasks and choices I was given.
I would clinch on others,
Making their swimming almost impossible.
And now I'm a monster of a swimmer,
Having Alice Dora Hellberg Demeanour,
My children, my work, and god knows what on my back
Swimming in an ocean.
And still, sometimes there is a storm,
And I am looking for an island or shelter.
And Alice finds I don't take enough time to play anymore.
Sometimes, I let her play with my children and me,
And just like me, she stayed a child in her heart.
She is a grown woman, though, and can be very distracting at times.
Well, yes, she's beautiful.
She makes me write poems,
Create art, find creative solutions, and help others grow.
She brings me in the flow.
But times are windy,
And I need to stay afloat.
Alice, please understand my choice
To test using a boat!Jan H. Hellberg (14.03.2024)
It’s open link night over at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Lilian is hosting Open Link Night where everyone is invited to post any one poem of their choice, no form, rhyme scheme etc. required OR Lilian gave us an optional prompt to use Van Gogh’s painting, Studio Window, to inspire a look through our minds windows into the garden of creativity.
Alice and her army from Wonderland (created with Bing Image Creator powered by DALL-E 3)
Isn’t it better never than late? –
From Pablo Neruda’s Book of Questions
In this poem Alice Dora Hellberg Demeanour, my personified nerodivergence is answering like an Echo. If you want to know more about Alice I refer you to this post Slumber Party with Alice.
My life reached a high I
At work I go up and above love
My to-do list a never ending queue you
Always happy to give someone a hand and
Even picked up again my quill will
Compartmented in my mind a dis tract distract
Place hostile comments in this hutch such
Even manage doing things I loathe at that
Got my tools to keep the important in my view you
Caught my life cheese straw on the yummy crisp end spend
Still I can get off the rails at anytime time
Alice, let us make peace forthwith with
You have a too strong and resourceful army me.
Jan H. Hellberg (09.03.2024)
Laura Bloomsbury is hosting the MTB prompt: Echoing Back on dVerse. We are choosing at least one from a given selection of Pablo Neruda’s “Book of Questions” and writing an answering poem that echoes/refrains on an end word.
Wake up it’s time for slumber party (6.3.2024, Bing Image Creator powered by DALL-E 3)
Got a friend since childhood
We played wild and good
Exhausted from my filled up day
I slept well, we had it our way
Now days are less fun and arty
She keeps me up for slumber party
Her name's Alice Dora Hellberg Demeanour
Jan H. Hellberg (6.3.2024)
This is going to be a series to explore what having ADHD means to me. The challenges and the awesome traits.
As I don’t like the label I came up with Attention Deviant High-Activity Demeanor.
For this poem however I decided to call her Alice, like the one from Wonderland and Dora like the explorer. I think what she came along with for me is being often distracted and daydreaming, but also indefinitely curious.
And thanks to a friend I came up with the idea to talk about her as if she was a friend and also talk to her, which I did in another poem I might post at another time. Thank you Aida, hope you like what I’m making out of the inspiration I got from you.
It’s quadrille Monday on dVerse again. Punam is hosting and we are daydreaming a quadrille with the word “slumber”. Please join us if you like. This prompt is open for the entire week.
Underneath my bridge (22.02.2024, created with Bing Image Creator powered by DALL-E 3)
Tuesday was Kurt Cubain’s birthday.
Here is my tribute musing over Nirvana’s song „Something in the way“ with my own lyrics.
Underneath my bridge
I was hiding from the world
And the many doubts I've trapped
Have all become my friends
And I was living off of praise
And plenty puzzling feelings
It's okay to be on stage
'Cause I could mask and start my healing
Something in the way, hmm-mmm
Something in the way, yeah, hmm-mmm
...
Jan H. Hellberg (22.02.2024)
We’re paying homage to Kurt Cobain. This poem / lyrics were written for Tuesday Poetics where Melissa is hosting today.
Nirvana was when I was a teenager long time my one and only band. And after all these years I’m still a big fan. Like many other geniuses Kurt Cobain left us way too early. And probably some of the weirder lyrics have added to my love for nonsense poetry and inspires me till today.
This post is about my grandmother Rosi as today would have been her birthday. The poem is sort of a translation of a song which I explain at the end of this post. It’s in the memory of her and about my deep connection with her and missing her.
Silence
So quiet That everybody knew this is for good
For good and for a lifetime, and it was
So quiet
That everybody sensed no words could
Ever help describe this loss
So quiet
That all the clocks were silent as in a still-life piece of art
So quiet and so lost you had to part
So quiet and so lost you had to part
I’ve heard so much, but it never gets to me
That’s what keeps me up at night and think of thee
Even if I write a thousand songs ‘bout missing you
Doesn’t mean I understand
Why this aches so much and stays so true
So loud,
The hours after impact when I had
To understand what’s happening and it was, too,
So loud,
That everything we thought of brought nothing but an emptiness to us
So loud and so departed as it was
When silence lived with us instead of you
I’ve heard so much, …
So quiet, and still missing you at every bend,
And wherever you today may stand
You showed me this silence has from now become your friend
I’ve heard so much …
I’ve heard so much…
Today my grandmother Rosi would have turned 102 as she was born the 13th Feb. 1922. And we had a special connection. When I was with her I could just be myself. We had the same knack for technology, fit photography, for some morbid stories and poetry and also for origami. Got the love for hand crafts from her as well. Even though I never got to her level e. g. when it comes to knitting. She taught me how to develop black and white photos and we just had so many great conversations.
Well, I am grateful that I had her so long in my life as she turned 93 and still I miss her every now and then thinking, she would have loved this. I know she would have loved this blog. And god knows what she would have done with ChatGPT and AI.
Kim Glover a dear friend, that unfortunately lives much too far away was so kind to publish this poem already some years ago on her blog Glovergardens. Today I feel I need to republish it on my own blog.
The poem above is my translation / interpretation of the song song Still (German for “silent” or “quiet”) by Jupiter Jones.
The gratitude fairy, created with Bing Image Creator (6.12.2023, powered by DALL-E 3)
A journey to the soul
Where I used to be happy at times,
I'm embracing my life as a whole,
When there used to be only rhymes,
There is meaning, there's depth, there is soul.
I did not change much I would claim,
It's rather that I'm more myself.
And still nothing appears quite the same,
I tried to be human, but was always an elf.
Get me right that it's still dark inside
And this darkness is heavy and scary.
In that darkness though shines a bright light
And I call her the gratitude fairy.
Emotions hit harder than ever,
When I take them as mere information
I draw lines where before I did never.
I'm less prone to all manipulation.
There's often a storm in my head and my mind
And I always thought that's how it has to be.
Until that deep calm lake I could find,
That's my soul, the serene and real me.
Many places I still will discover
By embracing my mind, heart and soul.
Learned to be a compassionate self-lover,
Step by step, day by day growing whole.
Jan H. Hellberg (2021)
This poem was and is my reflection of being diagnosed as neurodivergent. However, I know that we all may have moments where we feel we are „the elves“ and different. The good thing about that was for me to realise that there are many others out there. Maybe not with exactly the same, but with similar struggles.
I recited this poem last time at the dVerse LIVE event. This time Grace is hosting. Maybe I’ll recite the one I posted last time for Open Link Night (OLN) this time, when I can make it to the event.
Exitement, We didn't dance for a while!
Will I still remember the call,
Will we still know the style?
"Dame una", "Adios", not difficult at all.
Some new faces, "Bonita", easy and fun,
It's great to be back, "Dame dos con dos",
"Kentucky complicado", easier said than done, "Enfufla triple", simple, but I'm at a loss.
Some figures we can copy from one another,
"Rolin, linea, fly", three times clap with a crack,
"Trenza dobble", we still know a lot I discover,
These figures look awesome, spectators lose track.
"Sombrero - con Mambo", I dance with my love,
It's a bit like cycling it quickly comes back,
"El dedo complicado", sometimes a little shove,
"Dámela directo", we got the Salsa knack.
I hope when we're "Setenta", some day,
We'll still dance like we're "Treinta y Tres",
My deep passion for this dance will stay,
Even if otherwise my mind might be a mess.
Jan H. Hellberg (28.01.2024)
My wife and I love dancing Rueda or Rueda de Casino. Rueda is Salsa danced in a circle with a caller, giving the prompts for the next steps and figures to dance. Sometimes the group interacts with the figures. We have been with groups with a little bit changing members around one leader for many years. With our children we didn’t go very often and it was great to see how well we still could blend in with the group on our return(s). That’s what the poem is about. The words in quotation marks are the calls a caller will say to let everyone dance the same and right steps and figures.
I couldn’t find a video with my wife and me on it, but this is our group some years ago, the Raddraaiers (wheel turners) in action.
Mish is hosting the dVerse Pub. It’s all in the spirit of dance. Today’s Poetics is wide open for interpretation, simply a poem to the theme of dance in any form.
Join us now or another time to read our write.
Mankind’s Symphony with Bing ImageCreator (26.01.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
Mankind’s Symphony: Multiplication and Catastrophe
Multiply and multiply - delirium
No equilibrium desires
Use all resources then grab another place
It's in our face we're like a virus
The sixth extinction is coming nearer
With that clearer we did make a fuss
Meteorite or volcano we fear thus
Wake up - the catastrophe is us
Jan H. Hellberg (25.01.2024)
We write Toddaid couplets this time for Merril’s Meeting the Bar (MTB) prompt on dVerse. It’s a challenging Welsh poetry form.
Come join us for a read, to be inspired and to get creative yourself.
By the way I took some inspiration from the famous scene from the movie Matrix, where Agent Smith tells Morpheus that humans are like a virus, a disease a plague.
https://youtu.be/L5foZIKuEWQ?si=713g16oVPgbPrgYE
Agent Smith:
I’d like to share a revelation I’ve had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you’re not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with their surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to another area, and you multiply, and you multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You are a plague, and we are the cure.
Source: http://scifiquotes.net/quotes/124_Human-Beings-Are-a-Disease
Furious finch, with Bing Image Creator (23.02.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
without a flinch
I binge
watched a series
when a furious finch
tried to clinch
my bombastic belts
squeaking hinge
although
it looked like
a cinch
I did not want
to be a grinch
but couldn't
move by an inch
pinch
me
I'm
dreaming
It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, and Whimsygizmo is hosting. We’re challenged to „pinch“ some inspiration out of our creative minds.
PS: I was thinking of my son when this image was created a new hero for the Avengers or some other group. And he indeed likes it. He said it could be a super villain as well, „The Furious Finch“, coming soon on Disney+! 😀
Image with some matching prompts by Bing Image Creator (18.01.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
The eternally honest city
Honesty the number one value seems to be,
Everyone who’s living here embraces.
Hoards of sea gulls wake me
Actually living and working in holiday places.
Gorgeous architecture close to the sea.
Unnumbered cases a villain here justice faces.
Every walk on the beach works its magic for me.
It was dVerse poetics Tuesday. paeansunpluggedblog was the host and we are writing homages to the city we live in. Join us or read us, whatever you prefer!
Created with Bing Image Creator (12.01.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
Twenty years ago I studied in this city of love and great expectations
During my meditation routine I sank deeper and deeper into a relaxed state
On a rainy and cold Monday morning I dozed off
For natural marvel snow sets quite the bar
Lie on the heating
You’re my melalcoholia
Traveling like a baboon
Begin the difficult where it is still easy
Some day is hard
I process emotions, struggle and strife
Sometimes I only scratch the surface
Jan H. Hellberg (12.01.2024)
Laura from Poetrypix hosts Meeting the Bar today at dVerse. We shall compose found poetry, using first lines (one per month) of our poetry from 2023. As I did not have enough poems yet I just used 11 posts I had and combined the first lines of those.
I fed Bing Image Creator with my poem and directly loved this image from the first try (it always provides 4 suggestions)
Raging raccoon lagoon, created with Bing Image Creator (9.1.2024, powered by DALL-E 3)
Traveling like a baboon
On a giant galloping spoon
I was charging my harpoon
Like every good dragoon
Caught sight of a raccoon platoon
And almost overlooked the monsoon
No miniscule moment too soon
I fled with my war-balloon
From the raging raccoon lagoon
Jan H. Hellberg (9.1.2024)
I love dada poetry and my last stage program was indeed dada poetry. As I learn the poems I recite by heart which was quite a challenge for dada this has led to some really weird images and thoughts in my head. I like to go back there and create poems and images like the one above.
Melissa from Mom With a Blog is hosting today’s Quadrille at the dVerse Poets Pub.
She challenged us to a lagoonatic poem.
Created with Bing Creator (powered by DALL-E 3)
Tewenty years ago I studied in this city of love and great expectations. Living here has for ever changed my life and me to the better I would claim.
I was living off my parents and that was making my life easier and lighter. Still I took my studies very seriously as I’ve always been veery ambitious. And I did not write many poems or prose back in those days, only letters and my diaries.
And now packing for a short visit to Paris as my dad is turning 80.
It rings in my mind
Paris a movable feast
Some words take many years
I did indeed read the book with the same title by Hemingway when I was studying in Paris. And I wrote the poem on the 1st and 2nd if January 2024.
For New Year’s Kim was hosting a Haibun Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub. We all are human and should show this in our Haibuns.
„Haibun (jap. 俳文 für possenhafte Schilderung) ist eine lyrische Mischform der japanischen Literatur. Das Haibun ist eine knappe, von subjektiven Eindrücken durchzogene Skizze, in der meist gen Ende ein Haiku eingebettet ist.“ (Wikipedia)
„First snow“, created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E, 3; 12.12.2023)
For natural marvel snow sets quite the bar
And yet there was a day before all snow
A thought that just like snow
Could keep my mouth ajar
And one day comes where gone’s all snow
I just deeply pray that day’s still far
Jan H. Hellberg (12.12.2023)
„Last snow“, created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E, 3; 12.12.2023)
It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, Björn is hosting and challenged us to chill and crystalise a poem with the word „snow“ in it. Come and join us now or another time.
If you haven’t joined in before, our mission for the Quadrille prompt is to write a poem of any style that is exactly 44 words, not including the title.
Created with Bing Image Creator (powered by DALL-E 3, 06.07.2023)
During my meditation routine I sank deeper and deeper into a relaxed state. Suddenly something was different, a swirling sensation, I felt drawn into a vortex.
For some reason I knew what was happening, I was travelling through time and space.
I felt a cold breeze and opened my eyes to a wide plane of white. An icy cold plane as far as the eye could see.
I was where? I am when?
The snow began
This is a 144-word flash fiction piece for the Prosery prompt on dVerse. Merril is tending the virtual bar at the dVerse Poet’s Pub. The prompt Merril chose are these lines:
“I was where I am
When the snow began”
– From “The Dead of Winter” by Samuel Menashe
Created with Bing Image Creator (1.2.2023, powered by DALL-E 3)
Two cats
Lie on the heating
That lovely place, at the window
This time of the year I cherish
Being inside writing
It is winter
It is winter
Being inside writing
This time of the year I cherish
That lovely place, at the window
Lie on the heating
Two cats
Jan H. Hellberg (1.12 2023)
Today we are writing mirrored Cherita with Laura at dVerse.
„Form: the Cherita is a consecutive poetry form in three stanzas: a single line; a couplet; a tercet [Rules are that it can be written solo or by up to three partners as well as being reversed in various combinations (called a cherita terbalik )]“
PS: We do indeed have two such lovely cats at home and if I manage to catch them together on the heating I might replace the AI image above with a real photo one day.
Circus memories, created with Bing Creator (powered by Dall-E 3)
Sometimes I only scratch the surface
Knowledge always is unless it’s edgy
Energy is for me, I got a surplus
The memories I have – almost a circus
Cause their veracity gets stretchy
Heaven sending us a purpose
Yes you got it, it’s all sketchy
Jan H. Hellberg (28.11.2023)
It was my 44th birthday this week, so what could possibly be better than writing a Quadrille with 44 words.
It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, Mish is hosting and challenged us to sketch a poem with „sketch“ word in it. Come and join us now or another time.
„If you haven’t joined in before, our mission for this prompt is to write a poem of any style that is exactly 44 words, not including the title.“
Created with Bing Image Creator (25.11.2023, powered by DALL-E 3)
Life is poetry
I process emotions, struggle and strife
In poems, they’re to me the essence of life.
The early sun on a beautiful dawn,
Walking barefoot on a little moist lawn,
A new born child on its mother’s chest,
A musical masterpiece performed at its best.
Moments all’s connected beyond any norms
Are poems that life recites and performs.
Jan H. Hellberg (2023)
It was Open Link Night at dVerse, Grace was hosting and any poem is welcome. And as hardly anyone read it back then I used it again for the 18.01.2024 when Björn is hosting. I hope I can join the virtual bar on Saturday. Come and join us now or another time
Created with Bing Image Creator (20.11.2023, powered by DALL-E 3)
On a rainy and cold Monday morning I dozed off on the tram as I was tired. Physically tired from the weekend with the family. Mentally tired from all that is going on in the World. Tired from the sickness that seems to be spreading across the world since Covid 19 had hit us and left again. A sickness that is making people ever more aggressive and less open to the other, the foreign, the unknown.
And when I opened my eyes again I saw that it is that time of the year again. Sinterklaas1 is in town with „the Pieten“ and while I had thought that the blackfacing was at least gone in the bigger cities there it was again. My heart sank and I recalled the conversation I overheard some years ago of someone asking a person of colour if they would come today with their children to the jolly „Intocht“ (the traditional arrival by boat) of Sinterklaas. They seemed to know each other well, but this question left the person of colour flabbergasted, asking back „Are you seriously asking me that question? Seriously?“.
And indeed, I did not see many people of colour at the arrivals of Sinterklaas I had been to and neither on the streets. I am quite sure that one prefers to avoid being mistaken or called „Zwarte Piet“ by a child or worse an adult thinking this was funny. And then hear the excuses and words of „comfort“ that this would be an honour.
So how about Thanksgiving, would that be a better tradition to exchange this one for? In my home country Germany we do have „Erntedank“ which is more or less the same origin. I make a mental note that I need to ask this to a dear friend in the US and look deeper into this matter as well.
My children used to love Sinterklaas and I would not want to take these memories from them, but how much tradition can we keep if it is hurting others so deeply?
Luckily they have found out that it’s all a big theatre play by almost everyone in this country and now they start asking the right questions and we can have a healthy dialogue.
Will this be enough to make for a better future?
And then again I realise how little I believe in god today. And all that matters is that we endure what is right now and do our best to come to better terms. If we could only start listening to each other again. And change our traditions that they make us embrace each other. For it is all connected and we are all part of everything that lives. I do not need to believe in god to see this as the miracle it is. Though I hope never to forget that the pain I may cause others and may it be without knowing is ultimately hurting myself. I can only listen and observe further and deeper where I might be still in the wrong as it is also very painful to admit that one gets hurt by very silly stereotypes. I have pushed down such feelings almost all my life myself.
And if I drive someone over their foot they might get seriously injured, it does not matter too much for the foot and the person if this was an accident or on purpose. I pledge to be as cautious with words as I am in the physical world not to hurt anybody but to heal.
God, bad, it’s the mind
It all does never matter
For the universe
Jan H. Hellberg (20th November 2023)
And a Very Happy Thanksgiving across the Atlantic!
This Monday it was time for a Haibun in the DVerse Poets Pub! Frank J. Tassone hosts for the dVerse Poets Pub the Haibun Monday, and challenged us to a thoughtful reflection on Thanksgiving.
1 Sinterklaas is the Dutch name for Saint Nicholas of Myra, the „patron saint of sailors, merchants, archers, repentant thieves, children, brewers, pawnbrokers, unmarried people, and students in various cities and countries around Europe.“
Created with Bing Image Creator (16.11.2023, powered by DALL-E 3)
You’re my melalcoholia
Make me drunk
With happiness and longing
Then you’re gone
I’m flunked
Like the moon
Never late
Never up too soon
Our collective fate
On a moonless night –
Missing the shine
When it’s up and bright
My heart’s bleeding –
Just fine
Jan H. Hellberg (14th November 2023)
Mondays it’s time for Quadrille in the DVerse Poets Pub! Whimsy Gizmo host for the dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille this Monday, and challenged us to a lunar exploration.
“It’s never too late nor too early for any manager or leader to thank people that share their knowledge!”
Jan H. Hellberg
Mancher Tag ist schwer,
Mancher Tag ist leicht,
Dieser Satz ist leer,
Dieser dort ist seicht.Dieses Buch ist gut,
Jenes Buch ist schlecht,
Dieser Mann hat Mut,
Jener Mann hat recht.Jetzt gehts endlich los,
Dieser Spruch haut rein,
Diese Welt ist groß
Und ich fühl mich klein.
Sei am Tag mit Lust bei den Geschäften,
aber mache nur solche, dass du nachts ruhig schlafen kannst.Thomas Mann (1875-1955)
Beginne das Schwere, wo es noch leicht ist, tu das Große, wo es noch klein ist, denn alles Schwere auf Erden entspringt aus dem Leichten.
老子 Lǎozǐ (auch Lao-Tse; ca. 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr.)
Man verdirbt einen Jüngling am sichersten, wenn man ihn anleitet,
den Gleichdenkenden höher zu achten als den Andersdenkenden.Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)
Das gilt auch für Mädchen! Und da wir nie aufhören zu lernen gilt das auch für Erwachsene.
Besondere Probleme scheinen wir heutzutage mit der Ablehnung des Andersdenkenden in der Politik zu haben.
Von dem der schon meine Meinung teilt lerne ich jedoch seltener noch etwas dazu.
Freundlichkeit ist eine Sprache,
die Taube hören
und Blinde lesen können.Mark Twain (1835-1910)
Nach einer langen Pause mit Hochzeit und Flitterwochen geht es jetzt endlich wieder weiter.
Whenever you fall, pick something up.
Oswald Theodore Avery (1877-1955)
Es ist wahr, die Ehe ist ein Hafen:
Einer, von dem man gemeinsam lossegelt!
Jener, der sagt, es ist nicht zu schaffen, sollte niemals jenen unterbrechen, der es tut.
Römische Weisheit
Stelle Fragen. Unser Wissen besteht aus den Antworten auf gestellte Fragen.
Aristoteles (384-322 v. Chr.)
Da ich mich auf positive Dinge konzentriere, habe ich keine Zeit, mich von den negativen aus der Ruhe bringen zu lassen.
Aus aktuellem Anlass, zu meinem Chinesisch Test:
學 而 時 習 之, 不 亦 說 乎？
孔夫子
Xué ér shí xí zhī, bù yì yuè hū?
Kǒng Fūzǐ
Lernen und das gelernte von Zeit zu Zeit wiederholen, macht das nicht Freude?
Konfuzius
Die Jugend von heute liebt den Luxus, hat schlechte Manieren und verachtet die Autorität. Sie widerspechen ihren Eltern, legen die Beine übereinander und tyrannisieren ihre Lehrer.
Sokrates (470 bis 399 v. Chr.)
Eine Löffelliste ist eine Liste der Dinge die man noch tun möchte bevor man den Löffel abgibt.
Die Löffellitste
Für einen Freund.
Wer großes Leid einst musst erleiden,
Oder gar dem Tod begegnet,
Der ist nimmer zu beneiden
Und auch nicht mit Glück gesegnet.Doch jenem, der so durchgeschüttelt,
Will Gott vielleicht ein Zeichen senden,
Er wurde wahrlich wach gerüttelt,
Denn er fühlt nun, dass wir enden.Da wir nichts auf Statistik geben
Spricht jeder gerne still für sich:
Vielleicht kann ich nicht ewig leben,
Aber steinalt werde ich.Es zu fühlen, zu erfahren:
„Meine Zeit ist viel zu kurz!“
Führt zu anderem Gebaren,
Bringt Schweinehund und Stolz zum Sturz.Jeder sie wohl schreiben kann,
Die berühmte Löffelliste.
Wen Gott geweckt, der packt sie an,
Bevor er landet in der Kiste.Setz um, was Du Dir vorgenommen!
Wenn ich meinen Tag vergeude,
Mag kleiner Neid mich überkommen,
Denn Todesangst weckt Lebensfreude.
Jede Hierarchie ermöglicht Gewalt und jede Möglichkeit wird irgendwann zum Erreichen der Ziele in Betracht gezogen.
Mancher Rückschritt ermöglicht uns einen besseren Blick auf das große Ganze.
Das folgende Zitat erinnerte mich auch an Beppo, den weisen Straßenkehrer aus “Momo“, der Momo erklärt, dass man niemals an die ganze Straße auf einmal denken darf, sondern immer nur an den nächsten Schritt und Besenstrich, dann macht es Spaß und man kommt nicht aus der Puste.
No matter how big and tough a problem may be, get rid of confusion by taking one little step toward solution. Do something.
George F. Nordenholt
Einem guten Freund mag nicht immer gefallen was du sagst oder schreibst, aber ihm wird immer gefallen, dass du es tust.
Wir sind beisammen jeden Tag,
Jede freie Stund ist Dein.
Niemand uns je trennen mag,
Denn Du bist auf ewig mein.Kenne jeden Deiner Ticks,
Jede Rundung, jeden Winkel,
Wir beide haben tolle Tricks,
Darfst sogar da sein wenn ich pinkel.Ich will Dich streicheln, will Dich lenken.
Und ich steck Dir etwas rein,
Um Dir Energie zu schenken.
Ach mein Smartphone, ewig mein.Zipferlake
Aus gegebenem Anlass:
SONNET 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.William Shakespeare
Alles haben zu wollen heißt, alles zu verlieren.
Sprichwort aus dem 14. Jahrhundert
Kein voriges Alter und Volk ist seit der Erfindung der Buchdruckerei zu vergleichen mit einem jetzigen.
Jean Paul (1763-1825)
Hier dann passend dazu das Original:
War einmal ein Bumerang;
War ein Weniges zu lang.
Bumerang flog ein Stück,
Aber kam nicht mehr zurück.
Publikum – noch stundenlang –
Wartete auf Bumerang.Joachim Ringelnatz (1883 – 1934)
War einmal ein dummer Mann;
War ein weniges zu lang.
Dummer Mann ging ein Stück,
Aber Tür kam zurück.
Man wartete – nicht gerade lang –
Bis Beule wuchs dem dummen Mann.
(frei nach Ringelnatz)
Weiße Tür
Ohne Knauf
Mann läuft schnell
Tür rollt auf
Tür bleibt stehen
Mann sieht hell
Mann bleibt stehen
Stirn schwillt schnell
(nach einschlägigem Erlebnis)
Loreley
Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt
Im Abendsonnenschein.Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldnes Haar.Sie kämmt es mit goldnem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabey;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewaltige Melodey.Den Schiffer, im kleinen Schiffe,
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh‘.Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
Die Loreley getan.Heinrich Heine (1797 – 1856)
Mit einem Herzlichen Dank an meinen Vater für den Hinweis auf dieses erfrischend sinnreiche Gedicht von Lessing.
Antwort eines trunknen Dichters
Ein trunkner Dichter leerte
Sein Glas auf jeden Zug;
Ihn warnte sein Gefährte:
Hör‘ auf! du hast genug.Bereit vom Stuhl zu sinken,
Sprach der: Du bist nicht klug;
Zu viel kann man wohl trinken,
Doch nie trinkt man genug.Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729 – 1781)
Ein Auszug aus „Deutschland. Ein Wintermärchen“:
CAPUT XIII
Die Sonne ging auf bei Paderborn,
Mit sehr verdroßner Gebärde.
Sie treibt in der Tat ein verdrießlich Geschäft –
Beleuchten die dumme Erde!
Hat sie die eine Seite erhellt,
Und bringt sie mit strahlender Eile
Der andern ihr Licht, so verdunkelt schon
Sich jene mittlerweile.
Der Stein entrollt dem Sisyphus,
Der Danaiden Tonne
Wird nie gefüllt, und den Erdenball
Beleuchtet vergeblich die Sonne! –
Und als der Morgennebel zerrann,
Da sah ich am Wege ragen,
Im Frührotschein, das Bild des Manns,
Der an das Kreuz geschlagen.
Mit Wehmut erfüllt mich jedesmal
Dein Anblick, mein armer Vetter,
Der du die Welt erlösen gewollt,
Du Narr, du Menschheitsretter!
Sie haben dir übel mitgespielt,
Die Herren vom hohen Rate.
Wer hieß dich auch reden so rücksichtslos
Von der Kirche und vom Staate!
Zu deinem Malheur war die Buchdruckerei
Noch nicht in jenen Tagen
Erfunden; du hättest geschrieben ein Buch
Über die Himmelsfragen.
Der Zensor hätte gestrichen darin,
Was etwa anzüglich auf Erden,
Und liebend bewahrte dich die Zensur
Vor dem Gekreuzigtwerden.
Ach! hättest du nur einen andern Text
Zu deiner Bergpredigt genommen,
Besaßest ja Geist und Talent genug,
Und konntest schonen die Frommen!
Geldwechsler, Bankiers, hast du sogar
Mit der Peitsche gejagt aus dem Tempel –
Unglücklicher Schwärmer, jetzt hängst du am Kreuz
Als warnendes Exempel!
Heinrich Heine (1797 – 1856)
Golgatha (Karfreitag)
Durch manche Länderstrecke trug ich den Wanderstab,
von mancher Felsenecke schaut ich ins Tal hinab;
doch über alle Berge, die ich auf Erden sah,
geht mir ein stiller Hügel, der Hügel Golgatha.Er ragt nicht in die Wolken mit eisgekrönter Stirn,
er hebt nicht in die Lüfte die sonnige Alpenfirn,
doch so der Erd entnommen und so dem Himmel nah
bin ich noch nie gekommen, wie dort auf Golgatha.Es trägt sein kahler Gipfel nicht Wälderkronen stolz,
nicht hohe Eichenwipfel, nicht köstlich Zedernholz;
doch alle Königszedern, die einst der Hermon sah,
sie neigen ihre Kronen dem Kreuz von Golgatha.Nicht gibt es dort zu schauen der Erde Herrlichkeit,
nicht grüngestreckte Augen, nicht Silberströme breit;
doch alle Pracht der Erde verging mir, als ich sah
das edle Angesichte am Kreuz auf Golgatha.Kein Bächlein quillt kristallen dort aus bemoostem Stein,
nicht stolze Ströme wallen von jenen Höhn landein;
doch rinnt vom Stamm des Kreuzes in alle Lande da
ein Born des ew’gen Lebens, das Blut von Golgatha.Dort schlägt der stolze Heide stillbüßend an die Brust,
des Schächers Todesleide entblühet Himmelslust;
dort klingen Engelsharfen ein selig Gloria,
die Ewigkeiten singen ein Lied von Golgatha.Dorthin, mein Erdenpilger, dort halte süße Rast;
dort wirf dem Sündentilger zu Füßen deine Last!
Dann geh und rühme selig, wie wohl dir dort geschah,
der Weg zum Paradiese geht über Golgatha!Karl Gerok (1815 – 1890)
Nicht mit brennenden Kerzen entzündet man die Welt,
sondern mit brennenden Herzen.
Peter Lippert
Manches Wort verhallt im Nu,
Kommt dem Empfänger gar nicht zu,
Dem Sender und dem Wort zum Hohn.
Ist das noch Kommunikation?
Gott gebe mir die Gelassenheit, Dinge hinzunehmen,
die ich nicht ändern kann,
den Mut, Dinge zu ändern, die ich ändern kann,
und die Weisheit, das eine vom anderen zu unterscheiden.Reinhold Niebuhr
Betrachte immer die helle Seite der Dinge!
Und wenn sie keine haben, dann reibe die dunkle, bis sie glänzt.Unbekannt
Hier ein Limerick, eine immer noch viel zu unbekannte Gedichtform:
Es sprach eine Dame in Wieden,
Was sind die Geschmäcker verschieden!Drauf zog sie nach Weiden,
Dort sind sie bescheiden,So spielt das Leben hienieden.
Gedichte
Gedichte sind gemalte Fensterscheiben!
Sieht man vom Markt in die Kirche hinein,
Da ist alles dunkel und düster;
Und so sieht’s auch der Herr Philister:
Der mag denn wohl verdrießlich sein
Und lebenslang verdrießlich bleiben.Kommt aber nur einmal herein!
Begrüßt die heilige Kapelle;
Da ist’s auf einmal farbig helle,
Geschicht‘ und Zierrat glänzt in Schnelle,
Bedeutend wirkt ein edler Schein;
Dies wird euch Kindern Gottes taugen,
Erbaut Euch und ergötzt die Augen.Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Stufen von Hermann Hesse ist gerade am heutigen Tag ein passendes Gedicht. Ein neues Büro und ein neuer Blog sind zwei „Anfänge“, bei denen ich hoffe, dass ihr Zauber noch eine Weile anhält.
A poem a day keeps the doctor away!
Es ist ein sehr gutes Training für das Gehirn, ein Gedicht auswendig zu lernen. Denn der Effekt auf die eigene Lernfähigkeit ist erstaunlich! Zu den Zeiten, in denen ich wirklich fast ein Gedicht pro Tag auswendig gelernt habe, war meine Lernkapazität für Vokabeln und Wissen für die Universität nicht etwa geringer. Man könnte sich vorstellen, dass pro Tag eine bestimmte Menge an Wissen aufgenommen werden kann, und das Lernen der Gedichte verbraucht einen Teil dieser Kapazität.
Es schien mir häufig umgekehrt zu sein. Ich glaube, jenes Auswendig lernen eines Gedichts, wobei Wort für Wort ins Gedächtnis gespeichert wird, öffnet gewisse „Lernkanäle“ und macht den Weg frei für anderes Wissen, welches dann sicher abgespeichert werden kann.
Und hier natürlich als erstes das Gedicht vom „Jabberwocky“, was ich schon sehr früh in einem Schulbuch entdeckte und zumindest die erste Strophe, der deutschen Version damals sofort auswendig lernte ohne viel Aufwand. Der Reim ging mir einfach nicht mehr aus dem Kopf.
Jabberwocky
‚Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.‚Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!‘He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.‚And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!‘
He chortled in his joy.‚Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.Lewis Carroll
„Der Zipferlake“ ist ein Fabelwesen, aus dem gleichnamigen grandiosen Gedicht von Christian Enzensberger, als Übersetzung zu dem Original-Gedicht von Lewis Carolls: „The Jabberwocky“. Das Gedicht findet die jedem wohl bekannte Alice in einem Spiegelbuch in der wunderbaren Erzählung „Alice hinter den Spiegeln“, oder wie es im Original heißt „Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There“.
Deutsche Bibliothek – Den Haag
zipferlake 