AWA: Academic Writing at Auckland

First poem:

Blown Away

 

I can feel the storm

within me.

Thunder, lightning, as the

rain beats an angry sea.

I can hear the waves

crash to the shore.

Shells are shattered, castles

ruined by my internal war.

I can see the pieces

of my heart,

Fragments shattered,

a chaotic form of art.

Lost within the wind,

across the sand.

No mast or anchor

at hand.

 

Every time I shatter,

the smaller the pieces.

Every time I’m lost,

the further I stray.

Every time I rupture,

the more violent the shaking.

Every time the storm comes

I am blown away.

 

I can feel the rain

spit and pound,

Every leaf viciously

cast to the ground.

I can hear innocent,

sodden leaves cry.

Threatened, frightened

by a dark and angry sky.

I can see my petals

ripped and torn.

All that’s left of roses

is a thorn.

Thunderous shards strike

the branches of my tree.

Lightning blinds me,

I cannot see.

 

Every time I shatter,

the smaller the pieces.

Every time I’m lost,

the further I stray.

Every time I rupture,

the more violent the shaking.

Every time the storm comes

I am blown away.

 

When the storm subsides,

I feel my insides

release much self-hate

that had seemed so innate.

Until all that remains

of these desperate times

is a draw full of rhymes.

 

 

Second poem:

When?

 

He frowned at my palm

and started to speak.

“Your love-line is short

and very weak.”

         “When will it deepen?”

          I shyly enquired.

          “Don’t know” he said.

          Not as I’d desired.

 

Her eyes on my tea leaves,

I heard her soft sigh.

“No romance” she said,

avoiding my eye.

          “Until when?” I asked,

          far from over the moon.

          “Don’t know” she said,

          “but no time soon”.

 

Inspecting my writing,

he noticed the style.

“No partner” he said,

“for quite a while”.

          “How long?” I demanded.

          But he couldn’t tell.

          “Don’t know” he said

          and wished me well.

 

Over tea and cake

her thoughts were shared.

“When will you marry?”

She truly cared.

          “When” I repeated,

          “no one knows”,

          “But not quite yet

           they all suppose”.

 

Third poem:

Seasons of Love

 

Our love blossomed

on fresh soil.

Our fruit, just ripe,

then start to spoil.

The wind then came

and stripped us bare.

The ice did melt

the warmth we share.

 

The sun peeped through

clouds of spring.

The summer warmth

made lovebirds sing.

The autumn leaves

buried our joy.

The rest winter

did then destroy.

 

Again rich sap

ran through the trees.

Then summer brought

the birds and bees.

The sunshine left

and all was bleak.

When winter came

we did not speak.

 

We wish to avoid

a winter of discontent

and feel summer love

is time better spent.

The rings of our tree

then reveal reasons

love ebbs and flows

just like the seasons.

 

Exegesis for poems 1-3:

Though these are three separate poems, as a unit they represent the somewhat chronological evolution of the search for love.

The first poem represents life without love. I have attempted to create a sense of what life is like when others are not around to ‘pick up the pieces’ (and so they scatter), a life devoid of an embrace as one trembles, a life without a clear sense-of-self as a loved, beautiful being (“all that’s left of roses is a thorn”). ‘Blown Away’ is about a troubled individual struggling alone with self-destructive attitudes and behaviours. Life is a raging storm, stripping away inner peace and replacing life’s beauty with a harshness that threatens to destroy them. Eventually, the anguish is released (“release much self-hate”; released through poetry: “draw full of rhymes”) and the healing begins. The poem’s structure reflects its tumultuous theme: rhyming lines are rhythmically dissimilar and stanzas differ in structure and length. The recurring chorus symbolizes recurring inner turmoil.

When the torment subsides and self-love is embraced, a calmer and more hopeful search for love emerges. The second poem is a tongue-in-cheek representation of our romanticized search for love – a destined unity of soul-mates. I aimed to simultaneously acknowledge love’s magic and mock our irrational approach to love (represented by palmistry, tasseography and graphology). In a light and humourous manner, ‘When?’ discusses inseparable contrasts: fanciful versus practical approaches to love and external perceptions and pressures versus personal expectations and desires. The split stanzas represent how we are torn between these contrasts: the left half represents the fanciful and external and the right half represents the practical and personal. The title represents both the fanciful (love is destined and therefore just a matter of time) and practical (desire to know when love will be experienced).

If our approach to love matures, we realize that, when found, love must be built and, even when reliable, love is inconsistent. ‘Seasons of Love’ discusses what love is like when we find it and experience the euphoria on the way up as well as the struggles on the way down. I am uncertain about each stanza ending with winter as this somewhat emphasises love’s woes over love’s rewards. I have nonetheless begun each stanza with spring (and therefore ended with winter) as this matches the natural flow of relationships. Throughout the four stanzas, representing the four seasons, various elements are referred to: honeymoon period (“love blossomed on fresh soil”), vulnerability (“stripped us bare”), sex (“birds and bees”), ups and downs of parenting (“our fruit, just ripe, then start to spoil”), relationship maturation (rings of trees symbolizing maturity and wisdom, as well as the ring of commitment/marriage). I avoided discussing why love may be seasonal to allow the reader to explore this for themselves. I simply wished to encourage a greater perspective and the acceptance that change, in love as in life, is natural and essential.

These three poems illustrate how love is a voyage of discovery and enrichment, a journey that evolves as we evolve, a path most travelled and least understood.