Heloise and Abelard

Français : le monument d'Héloïse et Abélard (7...

Français : le monument d’Héloïse et Abélard (7ème division, numéro 90 PA-1817) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In France you may find
The tomb of Heloise
And Abelard

Great love arises
Beyond societal rules
And religion’s call

Great loss will shatter
Honor and promises
Sound the fall

So centuries later
We visit Heloise
And her Abelard

In France you may seek
The voyage of history
In their graves

Great loss leaves its mark
Like a calling card
To the price of life

Great pain is a sign
That emotion is only
The road to strife

Yet in France you may seek
A testimony to fealty
In the lovers’ graves

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Posted in Poetry, Water | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Nothing Personal

Nothing personal
Wrong place, wrong night
Nothing personal
In a gaze returned
Nothing deliberate
In communion made
Nothing legitimate
In lessons learned

Nothing personal
In games we played
Quite immaterial
What we denied
Nothing deliberate
In trust so broken
Nothing legitimate
In vanquished pride

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

 

Posted in Fire, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ritual

English: From Mal Corvus Witchcraft & Folklore...

English: From Mal Corvus Witchcraft & Folklore artefact private collection owned by Malcolm Lidbury (aka Pink Pasty) Witchcraft Tools http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39NzdEVyfY8 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I fled before the ritual
Sliced deep within my heart
Denied the rank habitual
That tore each choice apart

My thoughts so pathological
In shadows found my twin
Wore masks phantasmagorical
Down the rabbit hole we spin

Ecstatic in the free for all
I’m diving in our blood
To places paradoxical
From all we’ve understood

My senses are in overhaul
I’m frightened by my voice
I fled before the ritual
I didn’t have a choice

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Poet at Play

Playing with words
Rhyming absurd
Secrets are heard
Promises averred

Playing with rhymes
While away time
Speaking sublime
Lemon and lime

Lyrical dance
Nothing to chance
Words that advance
Those that enchant

Poet at play
Methods to sway
Form to obey
All that we say

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Posted in Fire, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Prompt 6 – Personification – The Forgotten Teddy Bear

English: Picture of a teddy bear with head tur...

English: Picture of a teddy bear with head turned slightly to the left. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Once I sat
Content, on your lap
Beaming up through my
Beaded eyes
Flowing love to you
My precious child

I enjoyed so
Our childhood games
The stories and the clothes
You adorned me with
The friends amongst us
All gathered there
In the warm afternoon

I thought this would last
Forever
Why ever not?
I would live a thousand lifetimes
In my stuffing and my cloth
For you

But you grew
Didn’t you?
You gave away childish things
You gave away me
Furry friend
Turned flotsam and jetsam

Or at least
That’s how it feels
While I sit silent
Squashed in the darkness
Of your cupboard
Abandoned and alone
Dreaming of the light of day
And the light of your eyes
Returned to me

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Prompt from mindlovemisery -at http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com

Posted in Poetry, Water | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

The Glamorization of Evil

Forgive me, but I feel the need for a bit of a rant.

A few weeks ago the publication Psychology Today published an article called ‘Confessions of a Sociopath’.  It was a adaption of a work published by Random House of the same name, by M.E Thomas.

First the disclaimers – I don’t know the person who wrote this. She could be the devil incarnate for all I know. I’m only responding to what the article made me think and feel.

The article, to paraphrase, went something like this:

‘I’m a sociopath… I’m very, very smart…you would like me if you met me because…I’m very, very smart…I did really well at school and university, then at work because…I’m very, very smart…I’m a master manipulator.. because.. I’m very, very smart…I’m the scariest person you could know without being violent because…I’m very, very smart…I feel nothing for anyone but myself but I have amazing powers of persuasion and, damnit .. charisma because.. I’m very, very smart…’.

And so forth, peppered with stories to illustrate this rather repetitive theme.

Well, that’s the way it read to me. Fascinating. Read more like a narcissist wanting to boast, and also wanting to be seen as the scariest person in the room. Scariest and smartest. Perhaps because of a fear the person held that they were actually neither of those things.

For a start, I’d argue you aren’t a very good manipulator if you tell people you are, because.. hello…why would they trust you after that?

Or is she just telling us, her special, confessional, anonymous friends???

Who knows, maybe this ‘person’ doesn’t actually exist and is just a fictional example of a pathology. But even beyond that possibility there is a more disturbing element to it. Why would someone wanting to boast and get attention (which she clearly wants because make no mistake, the whole article has the tone of one boastful comment after another, dressed up as confession) think the title of sociopath is such an appealing one? Why has such a character become the poster child or success, glamor and aspiration? What does that say about our society these days?

And how we glamorize evil? Now, the author does comment that there are plenty of stupid, violent sociopaths around, but the overall theme of the work is how her cleverness is the cornerstone of her successful sociopathology. Perhaps fictional characters like Hannibal Lecter, Red John and so forth have made us think there is a causal connection between brilliance and evil.

Of course there is no reason someone evil can’t be smart (I’m sure some evil people are, though I doubt they are writing articles about it in psychology magazines). But it doesn’t follow they necessarily are. I tend to agree with Hannah Arendt’s concept of the ‘banality of evil’. I think it is a more accurate description of evil for the most part.

It disturbs me that we are seeing being a sociopath as being something aspirational in some way. It does make me think of that comic quote from years ago that said:

‘Yeh, though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil…because I’m the meanest sonofabitch here…’.

Do we think that if we are the evil one we are safe from harm in some way? Or has our modern world raised the meme of the brilliant sociopath to such a level that people now want to claim to be one, like it is a badge of superiority?

As I said, perhaps the author is a sociopath. Perhaps she is as brilliant as she says. Though if so I wonder why she needs to tell us. There was nothing new in the article from what I could see. It basically just attributed the current stereotype to her own actions. So what drives that? What makes us want to be that person, if indeed any of us do?

And what does that say?

Posted in Air, Conversation | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 60 Comments

Nightmare

The Nightmare

The Nightmare (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You said
Let me be your nightmare
Let me seep
Within the subtle skin
Of sinless sleep
Let me draw
Your darker desperation
From dreamless depths

You said
I will be your shadow
Let me flicker
Faithless friend that follows
Frightened footsteps
Let me remain
Resolute and remorseless
Relentlessly roughshod

You said
Let me be your terror
Let me frighten
Fearful little fools
Following lost phantoms
Let me savour
Stalking secrets and signals
Of your singular soul

You said
Let me be your nightmare
Sinking into severed sleep
Subliminal soul
Seduced to the deep

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Each Day

Winter Morning

Winter Morning (Photo credit: blmiers2)

Each day much like the last
Funny how quickly
The seasons have passed
Warms nights fade and with them their glow
Winter’s new web
Covered in snow

Monday morning dreaming ahead
Countdown to Friday
Each day has bled
Wishing your life away a day at a time
Similar memories
Lost in this rhyme

Each day is so much the same
No variations
No-one to blame
Only the seasons marking the days
Year upon year now
Lost in a haze

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All rights Reserved

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | 21 Comments

Winter

Hoar frost or soft rime on a cold winter day i...

Hoar frost or soft rime on a cold winter day in Lower Saxony, Germany. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Winter has come
The first day this year
In my part of the world
Shadows stretch across
Dismal halls
The rain falls slowly, resolute
Each deliberate drop
Sounding its bell

Winter cold has descended
An icy, aging star
Regal on the stairs
Frost on morning grass
Icicle patterns
Crunched beneath boot shod feet
Winter coats
Spread meagre warmth
And freezing hands
Delve deep within pockets
To hide

Winter has come
Dark intruder on these shores
Bringing memories of
Long days in the sun
Now far away
Caress of the wind
Is a slap
To rouse us from forgetfulness
And to pay our proper homage
To the gods of ice and snow

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights reserved

Posted in Earth, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Bleed

Bleeding Heart

Bleeding Heart (Photo credit: dog.happy.art)

Whispering ego
Speaking its need
Self-justification
Hiding its greed
Will our pure will
Ever be freed
From all the places
Our true selves bleed?

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

Posted in Earth, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments