‘Poetry is What Gets Lost in Translation’

I find myself now in Sevilla, Spain; the culture, style, and passion so evident in every pore of this country radiates at me. In trying to explain a word confused in translation, I found myself somewhat at a loss. For some reason, it stuck with me, and so two days ago I wrote out the bulk of this, and revised it today:

Sultry

The tilt of her head
as her gaze caresses
Shadowy waves glisten and glimmer
falling down her shoulders
Emanating such heat
as the Andalusian sun
Poetry in her words
Devórame otra vez
A drip in every syllable
as it rolls off her tongue
Dancing around
the embers of her lips
Her call beckons
with a veiled promise
of secrets, and passions,
and dark delights
And it’s so very easy
To be lost indefinitely
In the sworl of her eyes

D.A. Hays

Revisiting an Old Piece

I’ve lately been studying poetry theory more and more, and as I’ve done that it occurred to me that I go through these academic phases. I recall doing much the same study during my time unemployed in 2010, and one day – while enjoying what had become my ubiquitous cigar during that time in my life – I crafted a variation of this prose sitting on the patio, overlooking a beautiful day. I never particularly liked it much; it seemed to deviate so much from my “style” that I really just tossed it aside. Having revisited it with new eyes, I made only the slightest changes, and now I find I’ve come to appreciate it all the more.

But a brief moment this morning

To ponder a great beginning

A phantom aroma haunts me

And I find salt on the tongue

A fiery pillar fills my view

And gently defers to molten ember

A glow refracted, distracted

By billowing clouds upon the horizon

Wave upon airy wave drifts along

Obscuring the radiant orb

And yet,

Accentuating it still

The ascension to glorious crescendo

The epic peak, of which we seek

And brilliance washes over ye

To bask in it’s wonderful glory

Grasp upon it, indulge while you can

For it is ever fleeting

And we are are ever seeking

Alas, the day must wane

And as all things must end

So too shall our heavenly divine

Settling peacefully into ashen night

 

D.A. Hays

Of My Life…

So it seems that, as of yet, this blog has been my outlet for poetry; to that, I am more than grateful as I find myself more and more inspired to write. Where this will lead me, I am fortunate to not yet know. Just this evening:

I promise you
I will not seek Death’s bed
But I may look
To introduce myself
To take her hand
And dance upon the
Cusp of the horizon
Where frothy skies
Embrace turbulent abyss
And I,
I dwell so precariously


D.A. Hays

Derivation of Inspiration

Upon a rather random whim, I visited a nearby (ha! ‘cross the street!) friend several days back. In the course of random conversation delving into such weighty topics as personal water consumption and the spontaneous creation of whipped cream butter involving amarettos and Cointreau… I began wantonly perusing the variety of word magnets he had on his fridge, and the myriad of short phrases already created. Catching a fever as I rearranged the words, this came about – the first thing I’ve written in nigh on 2 years. It is brief, it is succinct, but it is a world to me.

Please note, the entire picture is intended.

To derive surreal impression is to
sketch with illusion
portray symmetry
compose scarlet art
fabricate fiery grace
behold wild canvas
inspire

Passion
looms
now

-D.A. Hays

The Origin of an Idea

Early in 2010 I found myself possessed by an unassuming malady; I couldn’t seem to overcome a listlessness, a wandering sense of purpose. I’m sure it was due, in part, to my lack of meaningful employment, but I’d never much felt so affected by something so trivial, so I am certain that wasn’t all. As the year moved along, I found myself drawn more and more so to the interminable waves of the blue ocean, the terrible majesty of the storm… I wrote this poem at random one day, and in turn it came to define so much of how I feel about the world as a whole. Later that year, I found myself suddenly and inexplicably in possession of a sailboat; during the short time I owned “Cinnabar”, I found awakened in myself a newfound sense of adventure, a raging need to explore far beyond the walls I had thus far remained within.

The end of 2010 found me in a drastically different place than where I’d started the year, and a committed decision to traveling the world. I wish to fill my mind with more poetry, literature, knowledge than I can process, my eyes with more than beauty, passion, love than I can see, and most of all, my heart with more experiences and connections than could fill a million lifetimes. A lofty goal, perhaps…

‘Tis a pensive event
This night
As I turn the dark bent
To fight
A draw to cast away
To turn
Aside my love today
I yearn
For lofty shores afar
To find
Myself where’er they are
To bind
That melody so sweet
I know
To pulse that roaring beat
And go
Into my lover’s brest
I must
Descend into the crest
I lust
To sail the sultry swell
To rail
Against the fiery spell
Avail
Myself of thundr’ous sky
And seek
Out sandy slopes to lie
I speak
My soul in such distress
Of you
My lovely blue mistress

-D.A. Hays

My Blue Mistress