A glimpse into, “ THE MEDLEY OF THE MUSE” : In search of the symbiosis that exists between the two arts: photography and poetry.

A glimpse into, “MEDLEY OF THE MUSE”

                                    Mediation between Photography & Poetry

       

Helen Hayes says, it’s “Only the poet can look beyond the detail and see the whole picture.” In this forthcoming poetry collection, speeches are distilled and dished to the tone of Amit Kalantri’s, “a photograph shouldn’t be just a picture, it should be a philosophy.”

                    

“A picture is worth a thousand words”

                       Medley of The Muse is poetic, picturesque and philosophic.

                   In search of the symbiosis that exists between the two arts: photography and poetry

POEMS:

Supernatural Love

It was in the year Two Thousand and Seven

That eventful day, the day was brightly even

But when I emerged out of the art darkroom

The cloud which was lustrous went all gloom

I stared straight to the sky to seek the dazzle

But the sheen had been dampened by drizzle

That there was no light to cause an exposure

A phenomenon I considered an unfair seizure

With the printing mesh on one hand, I prayed

“God, I know I don’t have to, but I need an aid

Could you be a little emotional and give light,”

At once the sun pierced the shade to my delight

Through fleecy imageries of a heart and a dove

           That this peaceful poem is on supernatural love!          

As I see it

I can see a deer afloat flee

On a felled big Icheku tree

A bird on a head of a snake

And another twisting its neck

A hunched giant lizard and…

Through poetic wizard wand

I see a thousand speaks

As a headlong bat squeaks

There’s this strength to strive

An echo of physiology of life

As if writhing from its wounds

Such surreal sights and sounds

And I see a spider at the universe

Knitting in poise in God’s grace

Dead Bird

I’ll mourn you even if no one else cares to

Tho' I least expected to see you dead today

Or were you tired of tweeting and of flying?

Then, you should’ve gone in your nest to rest

Or even sing some sweet songs you had sung

Than just resting in peace here in an icy field!

Tho' you flew your course when you were alive

I’ve made this green bed and preened you myself

To help your helplessness in a poetic apotheosis;

Having thought awhile of your wonder in silence

‘Am now in no doubt this rite’s appropriately right

And I must engrave in my impromptu oration that,

"You were cutest far off companion l admired,

To eulogize a few and to say adieu dead bird!”

Ọnọnugwu!

This is not a joke at all

To speak to you Ọnọnugwu

One has to climb a hill

To reach your heel

Yet far away from your tail

From the valley’s depth your eyes

Like two black lights oversee

The baldness of Kilimanjaro

You, who climbs the Iroko tree,

Still standing on the ground

You touch the moon at nightfall

And the sun in the afternoon

With your head and then bend

Lest you crash your forehead

On the beams of the cloud

Ọnọnugwu, Ọnọnugwu!

How many times did I call you?

You, who bestrides the river Nile

And see the boundaries

Of nations far and near

Gentle wild with serene strides

That the earth may not yet split

Indeed, this is not a joke at all!

Ọnọnugwu na-enyo mmiri

Oh Graceful giraffe I hail you! 

Ọnọnugwu, Igbo language, contracted form of (Ọ nọ n’ugwu na-enyo mmiri)

lit. One who stands on a mountain overlooking a river.

Onomatopoeic for Giraffe in Igbo language.

A Kiss from Sahara

Behold, beauty they say

Is in the eyes of the beholder

As I look over my shoulder

I see you in that way

Beneath the keffiyeh I see

A terrific person and not terror

An honourable one and not horror

This is you, please let it be

Your beards are hotter

Than the desert sand in the sun

They flow like water from an urn

As through this land we saunter

Thus, I send you a Saharan kiss

With dreamy eyes and blushful nose

Let no odium keep you in the noose

Or opium secludes you from bliss!

*Keffiyeh is the traditional Palestinian scarf, a symbol of nationalism, also known as Kufiya, or Hatta. It is mostly chequered black and white, red and white etc. 

Agụ Iyi

The dried meat that fills the mouth

A dwarf that is taller than a giraffe

Atakataagbọọ that scatters

All inhabitants of the rivers

Agụ, your silence is grievous

And your actions are vicious

You, who crawls lazily to hasten death

With your barbed tail and shaft teeth

In a single swoop you swallow an antelope

A monster whose exploit knows no scope

If you eat your own egg when you’re hungry

What would you not do when you’re angry?

So I wonder as I ponder if you ever smile

Stone-bumped crocodile, the king reptile

A gentle beast whose quietness is virulent

Ọnyikọdọrọ, you are truly truculent!

* Atakataagbọọ - Onomatopoeic, Igbo, lit., (Edible, but one that cannot be eaten.)

* Ọnyikọdọrọ- Onomatopoeic, Igbo, lit., (One too heavy to be lifted!)

Tongues of Fire

You’re a friend and a foe

Who woos and even woes

The things you own or owe

With uncanny dues

Oh crimson fiery fire!

The Pelican

If you were to write on the above photo, what poem would you write?

All pictures are mine, shot with Samsung Galaxy Note3 except Tongues of Fire which was taken with a mini HD Camera.