Will I ever make it?
The answer is; to where?
And therein lies
An infinite beginning
Of freedom
To fly effortlessly
~
Effortless
April 21, 2016
Will I ever make it?
The answer is; to where?
And therein lies
An infinite beginning
Of freedom
To fly effortlessly
~
Hanne T. Fisker Photography Art 
Classy shot…
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Thank you! đ There are more on the way of the creature of the air.
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Cool
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True words.. âđ
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đ thank you, Harrie. High five back at ya!
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Amazing shot Hanne! Reminds me of a less impressive shot I took at a cliff recently, of 7 hawks high up in the air over the area of a waning moon. Not a close up though, couldn’t see the birds as well as your raven. It’s been awhile since I have been on WordPress, so I don’t know if the image will show up:
Your poem and photo reminds me of my shape-shifting character “Beautiful Blackrose, Raven Queen of Brimstone Crows”, in my “Sonnets From Hush To Hush” series, and the most recent one I finished yesterday. Cool that I came across this. Would you mind if I used your photo as a companion piece to accompany my progress on the next sonnet in the series? I will give you due credit and link back to this post if yes! I only post on facebook these days, but it would be a perfect catalyst for what comes next!
Ry
PS.
You may not remember me, but we had a couple long facebook conversations sometime in the past couple years on your blog, one of them about the poet William Butler Yeats and his muse Maude Gonne, and we played the devil’s advocate regarding thoughts on their relationship.
PPS
You still in Ireland?
PPPS
It’s a 21 line fusion sonnet. The idea of the Raven flying somewhere, questioning if if she will make it, makes me think of her flying into a volcano across the river styx in the underworld to be reborn as a phoenix, similar to the eagle in Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, Purgatory Canto 32 flying into a burning tree-of-life/willow-tree, and being reborn as a phoenix.
“Sonnets From Hush To Hush XXX (30)”
by Ry Hakari
Chimera come close, kiss caldera lips
I double-dare-bedevil you sacrifice
Let me wipe the lye from those starry eyes,
lift event horizon lids, surmise some sunrise â
Blackrose browning gold, unfurl merle iris
Hell holds no storm like a tempest corked
Heaven keeps no beauty like release stored
at bae â any port in a war for warmth
shoulders cold in the arms of Morpheus
fighting sheets, coitus eclipsed quietus
in steamy dreams tear seams, reality
Demon in the sack, cloth to moths to flames
Druid lots drawn, rocks to Scots to raise
Seraph sent censers, moss to sloths to chafe
Chimera come close, kiss caldera lips
des moines behemoth â With shibboleth,
Wiccan flint glints, cross the Styx to rose hips
Liger liar, hybrid pyre on fire, pants desire
for Orion’s belt â Like a Lycan-vampire’s
identity crisis, Fenris-Phoenix
Blackrose browning gold, unfurl merle iris
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I do indeed remember you and our conversations, Ry, Cyan the man with many names đ
This is a full packed sonnet rich with strong images. I’ll be delighted if you’ll use one of my photographs for your next sonnet! I have just posted a few more of this same majestic creature of the air, so you might want to have a look and see if one of the others suits better, feel free to chose any you like! Will look forward to see it! I’m not much online myself and therefore unfortunately don’t get to read as many blogs as I would like, summer is a full on time and less time for the quiet reflections. Yes, I am still in Ireland, these photographs are from the Atlantic Ocean just down from where I live. I often go there to greet these two crows (only one comes close), I find them so fascinating and beautiful in their black shimmering feathered cloaks. This time when I took these photograph this one came up very close to me, only a few metres and did a lot of ‘talking’ đ I spend hours with him and looking over the sea.
It is beautiful what you write: “The idea of the Raven flying somewhere, questioning if if she will make it, makes me think of her flying into a volcano across the river styx in the underworld to be reborn as a phoenix” These are all images that speaks strongly to me and always makes me think of Iceland and it’s stunning volcanoes, a place close to my heart.
Have a great day!
p.s. will you send me your link to your facebook page, I will follow it there. Mine is https://www.facebook.com/htfisker/
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Thanks Hanne, sent you a comment at your page!
I am currently setting aside 3 days a week to work on new fusion sonnets, writing 7 lines each of those days, and posting my progress each day along with some creative catalysts for my ideas, so I will aim to use one of your crow photos with day 3 of the next sonnet, so your work will be paired with a completed poem, if that is to your liking. I write in relative obscurity these days, comfortable with flying below the radar, but still it would be an honor to show off one of your photos, I am an odd bird myself, and love birds, especially crows and ravens, and magpies and mockingbirds, and I guess the list could go on for quite awhile. I don’t know how many people on my friends list actually read what I post, but an amazing picture is sure to be seen and appreciated even if the applause is silent, and your crow photos are too personally amazing to me, to not want to glean some inspiration from them, and share one as a source catalyst.
What you said about Iceland – those are images that speak to me too. In the same series of the sonnet I shared with you, part 13, I actually wrote about that. It’s not a fusion sonnet though, and it’s only a loose sonnet, early on in the series, I had long lines, and then about part 22, I made them ordinary sonnets with only about 10 syllables per 14 lines. Now with the previous two I have done, I am making them 21 line fusion sonnets, with approximately 10 syllables per line. My characters are shapeshifters who have lived within the stories of many legends, in this series. I wrote something in a companion poem once about this idea: “Iâm weiss Siegfriedâs handâholding tight Kriemhildâs / You are my lifeâs Victoryâyou wisen, widen Peace / In all my names, you fill full their meaning / You are the starlet Solarisâmy concerto / Our galaxyâs wedding dance urges / I am the sighing Nocturneâyour elegy / Historyâs authors of hours of dirges”.
Written December 5, 2014
âSonnets From Hush To Hush XIIIâ
by Ry Hakari
My Goldrose Brunhild, rightful Icelandic Princess, white lyre-strumming Siren-Valkyrie
wearing a silent loveâs suicide disguise, broken Winter heartâs diamond-snow possessing
my Blackrose Kriemhild after my heart hurt hers, impatience hexed sadness reminiscing
with the shadow of Kriemhildâs silhouetteâs similarity to a lost bird-of-a-feather memory
singing Requiems for Nostalgic Dead left unwanted, chanting âUnrequited lovesâ chancy
anthem is a Santa Godâs mantra I still make-believe like a naughty-list little boy wishing
by Christmas heâll have paid hell enough penance for more than coal karma-spankingâ
Rebounding siren songs cause tone-deaf dreams: Your hush is hardest to hear, in reality
foreboding and silencing my dreams, insomnia-causing like symptomatic tinnitus that
distracts with nerve-racking after-thoughts of my haunting conscience in your absence
When I do sleep without tossing and turning, I wake up drowning in regretâs sweat and
so soaked I must change clothes to try sleeping heart-wrecked on a seashore sheet mess
instead of warm under my covers, wishing I wasnât alone or pretending this is normal as
the sleeping giant cynic-smile of crocodile Nihilism wakes and swallows hope for X-mas
—–
Notes:
Brunhild was a âmighty female warrior, one of the Valkyries, and a heroine from the German epics, especially in the Nibelungen saga, in which she is a Icelandic princess. She defied Odin and in punishment he imprisoned her within a ring of fire on earth, decreeing that there she would remain until a brave hero rescued her. Siegfied (Sigurd) braved the fire, broke her charmed sleep, and fell in love with her. He gave her the ring, Andvarinaut, unaware of its curse. Eventually she kills herself when she learns that Sigurd had betrayed her with another woman (Gudrun), not knowing he had been bewitched into doing so by Grimhildâ according to http://www.pantheon.org/articles/b/brunhilde.html
âKriemhild, in Germanic heroic legend, sister of the Burgundian kings Gunther, Gernot, and Giselher. In Norse legend she is called Gudrun, and the lays in which she appears are variant tales of revenge. In the Nibelungenlied, she is the central character, introduced as a gentle princess courted by Siegfried. He wins Kriemhildâs hand by performing feats for Gunther in the wooing of Brunhild. When Siegfried is later killed on Guntherâs order because of Brunhildâs spite at his role in wooing her, Kriemhildâs grief transforms her into a âshe-devilâ in the second part of the epic. She marries Etzel (Attila the Hun) for revenge on her brothers, which she achieves by inviting them to Etzelâs court, where she has them killed. She herself is killed by Hildebrand, the weapons master of Dietrich von Bernâ according to http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/323503/Kriemhild
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