Month: April 2025

Fragments From Cahiers – 20th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 26 Comments

Can our futures be forgotten?
It seems impossible for us to breathe,
Our corpses are covered in jewels
from strands of daylight that we weave

Ideas of satisfaction and dread
Time is eating its own tail,
Involuntary memories of the future;
Pre-emptive deja-vus assail

Art takes our breath away
to trick the universe with meaning
Painting pictures of our words
absurd enterprise, intervening

Every path becomes a detour,
not trusting even the simplest thoughts;
Flattered by the frivolous
from fragments of a few reports

No solitude is enough for us
– We cannot be hidden from God
Death found us as children
and unwilling to spare the rod

Inspired by what I could read in this article by Philip Traylen where he translates Cioran.
Shared with dVerse – magical realism
11th Dec 2025 – Shared with What’s Going On – lonely

Feedback wanted on this SUNO AI version – is it any good, does it make the words more interesting or take away from them?

The Time March – 19th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 15 Comments

Gravity really gets me down
Like a stone sinking in water
Waving goodbye, about to drown
As a lamb led to the slaughter

Run around, hurry up to wait
In the valley of my despair
The friendly fans of time frustrate
Words carved in flesh, my pain to bear

So to the end, I march toward
To the fate that awaits us all
It’s such a difficult reward
To be here for my curtain call

Submitted for an AllPoetry assignment on syllabic poetry.
23rd Apr 2025 – Shared with dVerse prompt – fate

Laugh The World Away – 18th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Inspired by all the adult men who never learned to stop being spoiled children and end up in despair when their facilitators (often parents – dads who went through the same process) are no longer there for them.
Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – free verse
Title borrowed from Mission of Burma

Bedtime stories, parables of life
on the shelves, still dusty;
rows of cans, of unopened wisdom;
the teachings, the learnings, the Buddhas
– where the father remains…

Left in the hands of the monkish
– scholars, not teachers;
words like paper airplanes
flying overhead, tumbling down
to joyous boyish cries…

All the toys lay broken
– it feels as if the tears will never dry;
in search of the comforts of the womb –
gift givers keep giving gifts
until the boy learns when to cry…

Soon, the world is full of giants,
wandering, aimless and distraught;
– fear distilled into crystal glasses;
a fisheye lens to view a world
that owes nothing…

All the pleasures dull the pain
until the pain becomes the pleasure;
The wisdom trail long disappeared,
black eyes follow from the dark
snapping at heels with impish grins…

Chasing the dopamine dragons,
their fires pierce the thickened skin
twisting deep into the calcified heart
The face savers are dead –
left alone to laugh…
alone…

Ninth Innings – 17th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 2 Comments

In youth, as playful as expected
it was a pleasure to see you run,
panting for breath until collected;
the joys of a life just begun.

In the early years, you would settle
to be as we all had visualised;
then, one day, you suffered bad fettle
and your health would then be compromised.

Through eight lives, where you almost perished
to the ills of kidney and liver,
our love never wavered, we cherished
every moment as the caregiver.

Now here we are in the ninth innings,
to see you this way now brings us pain,
but the memory of your beginnings
from a lifetime ago will remain.

Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – ode

Charlie Zero The Poet Music picks & Reviews #17 and my quick thoughts:

PoiL – Long familiar with this awesome band. The video for Fionosphere is mesmerising: https://youtu.be/c6tbJDm40Pc?si=30WWUNu7hgZJX0Xk

I seem to end up watching it every few months. In fact, I’m going to watch it again now.

Zu – Zu were on my record label’s very first release so I’m familiar with them too: https://tenzenmen.bandcamp.com/album/eccentrics-vol-1
This is a good reminder for me to go check out some of their more recent stuff though.

Prairie WWWW – I came across this band about five years ago and some of the band members names are familiar to me though I’m not sure why. I never listened in depth before but it’s obvious that this style is right up my street!

Fulu Miziki – vaguely familiar with this band too, I think from stumbling across videos of theirs. Listening now brings back strong vibes of listening to John Peel late at night, waiting to hear the one or two punk tunes he might play and being subjected to what seemed like hours of the Bhundhu Boys (which, ironically, I find quite enjoyable now)

Sonora Tropical – the brief snippet here also brought back John Peel vibes and this one not enough for me to investigate further – these hips are too old to shake these days.

Great selections this time, Charlie.

The Unwinding Of The Meaning – 16th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

They call me the changing
between the dark and light;
or the rearranging
from compressed or stretched tight.

And from the mountain ground
you may see me arise;
or suddenly I’m found
to give you a surprise.

Ideas are coming forth
with their release to bring,
from the south to the north
indeed, I am (the) spring.

Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – the prompt word is spring and so I investigated as many meanings as I could.

The Ink, The Blood – 14th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – micropoetry (not very micro but it is one of the forms included) with a few links back to some borrowed or paraphrased lines of inspiration including one* that I forgot to take note of.

ink, blood; blood-ink spills,
chiselled in stone, etched in flesh,
carved on bloodied bones;
the words of God in your hands
to be rewritten again.

shaken foundations;
in the cracks, a seed takes root
until flowers bloom;
you must destroy to create
a space to keep all your words.

then, in audience
they become your cross to bear;
these words are your sword
to cut through stone, to lay bare,
making sense of destruction.

in theatres of hate,
coliseums collapsing
at the empire’s feet;
when the wind whispers its threats*
fanning the flames of defeat.

libraries burning,
the word soon becomes the deed;
the chants of dwellers,
dismiss not, their dialect;
gather our friends, make a storm.

ink, blood; blood-ink spills,
in the cracks, a seed takes root
these words are your sword
when the wind whispers its threats
gather our friends, make a storm.

On A Good Morning – 12th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

1.
Down in the deepest depths, a mind swirl of grab-bag memories enmeshed with fantasies and stimulating synapses, comforting the realities of the day ahead.

2.
A familiar haunting incites instant action followed by a brief hesitation, a sigh and conviction.

3.
Muscle memory stirs a stiffness, a stumble towards the mirror. Dusty eyes grab at sticks to mint a mouth full of dry and dirty breath.

4.
Sat, for a moment of relief, as brushing teeth and emptying stagnant waters. Now the body reacts, switching on the internal engines, and pulling the winter choke for an idle putter.

5.
Hungry mewlers wait impatient at the door, screaming ‘me first, me first!”

6.
But this is my house so it’s ME first and the engines crank faster, pushing against the weights of gravity and fighting for air. It’s now or never as the land of the living rears its ugly head and the end of the tunnel approaches.

7.
Turning to the criers, those who would die if not fed immediately, expectant eyes pointed skyward. Soft munching sates, satisfied crunching placates.

8.
A process nearing completion, the final pieces unconsciously acted. Stood naked under frozen falling waters, cascading and foaming to wash the dusts and sweats of the night.

9.
The machine is fully prepared with gut juices flowing, gears grumble complaints made for a refuelling. Let’s check what’s at the cooling station and charge up.

10.
Now to greet the sun, wave at the sky for the day begun and get the old grey matter ticking.

Inspired by this post at Poetry Pals and shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – list poem

The Messengers – 11th April 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ 2 Comments

Shared with Momoetry April Poet Month challenge – free verse and inspired by this quote

“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.”

― Pema Chödrön

The actions were not mine
yet I filled them with disappointment,
taking offence where none was intended;
– there’s a message here for me.

I landed face-first in a puddle of mud
and couldn’t deflect the embarrassment
by laughing and wiping it off;
– there’s a message here for me.

When you poke a finger deeper into my wounds
you are not affected by my irritations,
in fact, they may spur you on;
– there’s a message here for me.

When the rewards came your way,
only resentment came along mine
and I could easily justify that feeling;
– there’s a message here for me.

When all that resentment bubbled over,
a daily garbage collection of anger,
regrettable bitter words were unleashed;
– there’s a message here for me.

If I could only just be like you,
yet not be filled with a jealousy
that I use to punish myself further;
– there’s a message here for me.

I’m so stuck here with this other me,
paralysed by an illogical fear,
that I can’t live without this other;
– there’s a message here for me.

Lucky for me I found the perfect teacher,
The angel on the other shoulder
that speaks with clarity
to deliver these messages.