UNVEILING 2016 Creative Writing Workshop
Written by Iko Akoh on June 15, 2016
Our creative workshops are an important part of the UNVEILING Arts Festival, giving our guests the opportunity to express themselves and to sharpen their skills with the assistance of highly accomplished workshop leaders. The creative writing workshop at UNVEILING 2016 was ably led by Rebekah Holden and attended by six enthusiastic, aspiring poets.
It is my pleasure to publish two of the poems created at this workshop: Treasure and It started with a roar.
They say that treasure can be mined from the ground,
But this is not the story I’ve found.
With life, love, dreams, all hopes destroyed,
What is there left to fill the void.
We were stalked through the night, were bombed through the day.
Without life, love, dreams, what is left to say?
We were crushed in the darkness and left with dismay.
I hoped against hope it would all go away.
My Darling their safe, Charis, Delilah too.
But what is this world, this life to go through.
I heard their voices, we ran to each other,
The next question on their lips was where is mother?
I miss you beloved, you’ve been gone for so long,
To wish for you back, is that so wrong?
You went ahead to establish our home.
It had to be done but we were left alone.
We’re on our way, it can’t be long.
Don’t worry darling, know we are safe and strong.
Our lives, songs, hopes are the riches we can measure,
This our truth, this is our treasure.
Written at UNVEILING Arts Festival 19/3/2016
It started with a roar
Not loud, but quietly powerful.
Her thoughts flooding through,
Like swiping images on her phone.
She spoke to the water:
“Do I have your power?”
The roar grew louder,
as the waves lashed against the shore,
dragging with it memories
of a different time and place.
The sea, though not silent,
Gave no answer.
The woman kicked her heel in the sand,
as barefoot, she walked across the deserted beach,
allowing the water to gently kiss her toes.
‘Do I have your power?’
This time she muttered to herself,
Curious to know,
where she finished,
and he started.
A knowing smile crept across her face.
She stopped. Still.
Still smiling, she concentrated.
“Can I walk on water?”
Her feet sinking in the sand,
she focuses her thoughts on those words,
but rearranges them slightly.
“I can walk on water”
The words repeating in her mind,
Meditating, concentrating, intensifying, focusing.
Her feet, not moving,
as the water continued to caress them,
slowly rising to cover her ankles.
She didn’t walk on water that day
Yet she felt alive;
more alive than she’d felt in years.
She never found out
where she ended and he began.
But reflecting, she questioned
“do I really need to know?”
© Richard M Lalchan 2016