Roberta Writes – Repost: Editor’s Pick: Square Peg in a Round Hole on Hotel by Masticadores

I am overwhelmed by Michelle from Hotel by Masticadores wonderful and insightful review of Square Peg in a Round Hole: Poetry, Art & Creativity. Thank you, Michelle, for your appreciation of my creativity.

Roberta Writes – d’Verse: Krisis: Poetry at the Crossroads #poetry #d’verse

Bjorn’s prompt for d’Verse Open Link Night #392 is to write a poem about the concept of krisis. You can find the prompt here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/04/10/open-link-night-392-april-live-edition/

Picture caption: Photograph of a crying, abused woman from Deposit Photos.

The March

In a ragged crowd they push onwards

Stretching as far as the eye can see

Some hobbling on strengthless legs

Some hunched over rusting crutches

Some pushed in battered wheelchairs

Some pulled on wheeled platforms

Their cries and groans of anguish

A cacophony of desperation and despair

The strongest help the weakest

In this mottled army of the dying

Deprived of life saving antiretrovirals

The virus chatters and chitters

Soundless and invisible

To the powerful in their ivory towers

Mothers clutch doomed infants

To chests of skin and bone

Their life’s milk a certain poison

Passing on the kiss of death

For victims of abuse and rape

The trauma will never end

Health melts like candle wax

As the virus licks its chops

Once healthy men now carry

The dangerous seeds of hell

No quick and simple death awaits

Abandoned dregs of humanity

No salvation for a forsaken mass

Marching steadily towards the grave

Roberta Writes – Michael Cheadle’s poem on Hotel by Masticadores

Thank you to Michelle Ayon Najavas for publishing Michael’s poem, Words of Suffering on Hotel by Masticadores. This poem features in my poetry collection, Square Peg in a Round Hole which includes nine of Michael’s poems.

Roberta Writes – d’Verse Dialogue It In and Esther Chilton’s writing challenge: The Killing of the Bull #poetry

Dora’s d’Verse challenge is to employ at least one line of dialogue in a poem. You can join in this d’Verse challenge here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/04/08/poetics-dialogue-it-in/

Esther Chilton’s writing challenge for this week is dark. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/04/09/writing-prompts-60/

I’ve been watching international stock markets react to the current media dubbed ‘tariff war’ with fascination. This poem is the outcome of my reading today. A good market is called a bull market and a bad one is called a bear market.

The Killing of the Bull

The bull’s stampeding down the road

He’s taken the whole herd with him

Blood gushing from the arrows

Embedded in his heaving sides

Each arrow tip sharpened by tariffs, and

Engraved with a previous rangers name

Canada, China, Europe, and Japan

Have already left the archer’s quiver

As he stands among the falling debris

Of Wall Street’s finest institutions

Impervious to the choking dust

Teeth shining whitely in the darkness

Investors watching from the sidelines

Spit dirt and muck from open mouths

Unable to decide which way is up

Through the heavy, swirling cloud

From a distance conservation officers

Observe grizzly stealthily approaching

“Be careful what you wish for” drowned

Amid earth tremors and upheavals

Ear splitting roar joins the cacophony

As bear bites into opportunistic meal

While the butterflies of renewable energy

Rain down on the desolate scene

Their fragile bodies scorched

And their delicate wings burning

.Picture caption: Bear from Unsplash

Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s writing challenge: Light #poetry

Esther’s challenge this week is light. I wrote several poems about light for inclusion in Sunflower Tanka: An Anthology of Tanka, Tanka Prose, & Experimental Tanka and I decided to share my favourite of these poems for Esther’s challenge.

Painter’s challenge (garland tanka)

Anguish reflected

But not absorbed by water

Which also soaks up

Essence of trees and buildings

For serene contemplation

***

Natures pain entrapped

Within deep, inky waters

No amount of tears

Ruffling its exterior

Can change on-going flow

***

Many lives ended

Sinking into death’s embrace

Silent and secret

Water does not pass judgement

Gleaming countenance unchanged

***

Interplay of light

Old Man River stays focused

Moody sky tantrums

Painter tries to replicate

Scene perfected by nature

***

Black, white and silver

Shot through with green and auburn

Captures canal’s soul

Embalming in acrylic

Turbulent natural conflict

***

Anguish reflected

Within deep, inky waters

Silent and secret

Painter tries to replicate

Turbulent natural conflict

Picture caption: Amsterdam Canal. Acrylic painting by Robbie Cheadle

Picture caption: Cover of Sunflower Tanka designed by Colleen M. Chesebro using my oil pastel artwork. You can find out more about Colleen’s services here: https://colleenchesebro.org/my-services-unicorn-cats-publishing-services/

Sunflower Tanka, edited by Robbie Cheadle & Colleen M. Chesebro, is an annual anthology of contemporary tanka, tanka prose, & experimental tanka from a broad mix of new and established poetic voices from across the world.

Our theme, “Into the Light,” draws inspiration from the way a young sunflower bud constantly turns to face the sun. Poets delved into the realms of death, love, and the natural world, capturing their human experiences in the timeless form of syllabic poetry.

Contributors to the first edition of the Sunflower Tanka: Suzanne Brace, Yvette Calleiro, Kay Castenada, Luanne Castle, Robbie Cheadle, Colleen M. Chesebro, E.A. Colquitt, Melissa Davilio, Destiny, Tamiko Dooley, Lisa Fox, Cindy Georgakas, Chris Hall, Franci Hoffman, Marsha Ingrao, Jude Itakali, JulesPaige, Kenneth, MJ Mallon, Brenda Marie, Selma Martin, Michelle Ayon Navajas, Lisa Nelson, D. Wallace Peach, Freya Pickard, Dawn Pisturino, Gwen M. Plano, Jennifer Russo, Aishwarya Saby, Reena Saxena, Merril D. Smith, Nicole Smith, Ivor Steven, Ben Tonkin, Trilce Marsh Vazquez, Cheryl Wood.

Roberta Writes – Book reviews: The Mystery of Folly’s End by Jaye Marie and Winter Journeys: A novel of Music and Memory by Audrey Driscoll #bookreviews #fiction

Just a reminder that I am having surgery tomorrow, so I won’t be around much from about lunch time tomorrow until next week, Wednesday. Apologies in advance for any delays in responding to comments.

The Mystery of Folly’s End by Jaye Marie

What Amazon Says

Two estranged sisters, a dead husband, a mysterious hotel and a ghost?

Charlie’s sister Angela is not her favourite person after deliberately stealing the love of her life.

Years later, Angel’s husband dies mysteriously, leaving her with two children and no money. She begs her big sister to help her.

Can Charlie find it in her heart to forgive her sister, or will old feelings destroy any chance of a reunion?

Can they work together to solve their problems, or would that be asking for the impossible?

My review

I don’t often read murder mystery books of this nature so this was an unusual book choice for me. The story was engaging and there were a few great twists although I did have a good idea of how the murder element was going to pan out early in the story. This is not uncommon for me and one of the reasons I don’t read many books in this genre. In this case, it did not hinder my enjoyment of the book as the characters were interesting albeit not being my version of nice in any way.

I thought the main character, Charlie, was a kind person but her relationship with her sister, Angie, a horrible and entirely selfish woman, was astonishing to me. She was a bit of a doormat despite being a fairly successful woman in her chosen career in interior design. This aspect of Charlie’s personality was evident throughout the story in her relationships with her boss, Maggie, lover, Peter Channing, and finally with Stuart Rankin, Angie’s apparent nemesis and business partner to Tom, Angie’s missing husband and Charlie’s ex-boyfriend. The fact that Angie’s missing husband was also Charlie’s ex-boyfriend and the reason the two sisters were no longer close is very indicative of Angie’s grasping and me centric personality.

Although I found Charlie’s behaviour mystifying, I did understand it because I have seen similar behaviour by many women I know. Many women seem desperate to please at any cost to themselves. I think this is one of the reasons I enjoyed this story despite my dislike of most of the characters including Maggie, Angie, Stuart, and Peter. Angie’s two daughters were sweet girls and quite neglected by their mother, so they were a nice intervention into the storyline. Charlie’s psychology was quite fascinating, and I enjoyed trying to unravel what made her tick and why she put up with the abuse she suffered from practically every person in her life. In the end, I believe it was a desire to be accepted and loved that made Charlie the way she was. That is my opinion and I’d be interested in other readers opinions in this regard.

On the whole, an interesting book that is well worth the time investment.

Purchase The Mystery of Folly’s End by Jaye Marie: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0D9P396BL

Winter Journeys: A Novel of Music and Memory by Audrey Driscoll

What Amazon says

Winter Journeys is a story about the power of music and imagination.

In 1827, a year before his death, composer Franz Schubert wrote twenty-four songs that trace the physical and mental trajectory of a man who has parted from the young woman for whom he had romantic feelings. Wandering the winter countryside, he passes from sorrow to disillusion, anger, confusion, irony, loneliness, and a final surrender—to madness?

In 1987, Ilona Miller’s final year at university, she is enchanted by a recorded voice singing those twenty-four songs. A misfit who has struggled to please and succeed, she becomes an explorer of uncontrolled emotions. When she meets a man who seems to embody the marvellous voice, she acts out her romantic imaginings, but her giddy joy soon spirals into chaos.

In 2007, Ilona Miller is downsized from her office job. Instead of adjusting her attitude, upgrading her skills, and sending out resumes, she retreats into grief and paranoid imaginings. Her walks along streets and seashores awaken a long-suppressed alter ego and summon a parade of lost memories. Did the choices she made twenty years ago harm someone besides herself? Who is the man whose harmonica she hears at night? And where is she going now?

My review

This is an extraordinary book of literary fiction that reminded me in many ways of various works by the Bronte sisters. The writing is beautiful and vivid, and the main character, for me, was compelling in a strange and almost dark way. It was clear from the start of the story that Llona Miller was a woman with severe mental health issues. She obviously had difficulties in relating to other people and suffered from a persecution complex where she believed her colleagues were conspiring against her.

The story starts with Llona rushing to get to the bank during her lunch break. She spots a homeless man playing a harmonica which makes no tangible sound. She believes this man to be someone she knew from her collage days. She dwells on the man, Davy Dawson, in a rather obsessive way, but the reader gets the impression this would have passed had Llona not had the misfortune to be retrenched during a downsizing exercise. She disbelieves management’s commentary that her retrenchment is due to her being the most recent introduction to the team and becomes more and more certain that, somehow, her past has infiltrated her work environment, and people can sense she is different. Llona starts her slow descent into a complete withdrawal from functional society. Her obsession with finding Davy Dawson grows and she starts searching for him. As she walks about in the depths of the Canadian winter, trying to find him, she relives the story of her life and how she became immersed in the music of Franz Schubert to a point where writing an essay about his life takes over all her time and focus.

This is a sad story of a woman’s mental degeneration and the related collapse of her life. Llona’s life story is one of tragedy and loss. It was never clear to me as to whether the homeless man she thought was Davy Dawson actually existed or whether he was a figment of her imagination.

This is a fascinating story which provides a lot of insight into mental illness and its effect not only on the sufferer but also on the people around them. A most worthy read for people who enjoy literary fiction and character driven books.

A few examples of the compelling writing:
“That spring I wore sunglasses whenever I went outside. The light was intolerable, harsh, uncouth, needle-like, whether hazing a dusty window or jabbing laser-like into my eyes from chrome bumpers and trim on cars, or glassware and cutlery on a table.”

“It’s clear to her that Nicole is out of her depth. Her face is even redder, and her eyes dart from computer screen to window to her own fingers; she looks anywhere but at Ilona, who sits and gazes at her. (Ilona has done this before, but now she is doing it differently.”

Purchase Winter Journeys: A Novel of Music and Memory by Audrey Driscoll from Amazon US here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0DT4ZBK14

Roberta Writes – d’Verse: Let’s travel through time and Tanka Tuesday #poetry

Merril’s prompt is to write a haibun about time. You can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/31/haibun-monday-lets-travel-through-time/

I didn’t write a haibun, I wrote a shadorma prose and here it is:

Borrowed Time

Time heals all wounds they say. But it’s not true. Some wounds do not heal. Some have a significant impact on your future life. This seems to be particularly true when it comes to life threatening conditions. In June 2021, my father was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism. Covid delayed his diagnosis, and he nearly died. We did manage to get him the blood thinners he needed, and I injected him twice a day, every day, for ten consecutive days. He lived, but he never recovered fully. Recently, he has been diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension resulting from damage done when the blood clots broke up. He is now being treated for this condition and his health has improved dramatically. The treatment cannot repair the damage to his lungs though. Neither can it repair the damage to his heart caused by the pulmonary hypertension and resultant lack of oxygen to his brain. For over six months, my dad was sleeping approximately 19 hours a day. He was not able to drive or go out anywhere as the lack of oxygen in his blood was making him so dizzy and unwell. The medications have made a huge difference, and he now has quality of life again. It has been incredible to watch this transformation take place. It did make me think that he is actually living on borrowed time due to the marvels of modern medicine.

surviving

health catastrophe

received as

Act of God

but living on borrowed time

the reality

No Fool (tanka)

serious am I

never learned to play the fool

mom’s little helper

progressed to high achiever

now a serial carer

My tanka poem is written for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday prompt which you can read about here: https://tankatuesday.com/2025/04/01/tankatuesday-poetry-challenge-no-6-tarot-the-fool-4-1-2025/

My oldest son, Greg, graduated from his university today with a B Science degree in mathematics and computer science. He passed with distinction.

Picture caption: Greg and I before the graduation. Greg is wearing his cape and blue sash for a B Sc
Picture caption: Greg and Michael before the graduation. Mike came instead of TC who is in London currently.
Picture caption: Greg outside the Great Hall at The University of the Witwatersrand before his graduation.

Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s writing prompt: Waiting and new book #haibun #waiting

Esther’s writing prompt for this week is Waiting. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/03/26/writing-prompts-58/

In the waiting room

There is solidarity is the waiting room. No one wants to be there. Everyone is waiting for news. People smile sympathy at each other, as if it were a tangible item to be gifted. The walls are shiny white. So white they’re almost blinding. The smell of disinfectant lingers, it’s tones acrid and bitter. An attempt to eliminate the stench of anxiety, overripe, like rotting fruit. The combination forces acid bile up my throat. It burns. The hustle and bustle of the hospital is distant and muted in the waiting room. There are no distractions. I sit and unwanted memories come. Memories of other, similar waits. So many. More than I can count on both hands and feet, twice over.

Waiting room prison

Full of memory felons

Will he live or die

New book

My new poetry collection, Burning Butterflies, is available for pre-order on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/Burning-Butterflies-Poetry-Southern-African-ebook/dp/B0F2SDF2GW

Picture caption: Cover of Burning Butterflies featuring an elephant against a background of fire (artwork in charcoal and oil pastels by Robbie Cheadle). The background is fire and smoke with orange butterflies attempting to escape the flames. Cover design by Colleen Chesebro of Unicorn Cats Publishing (https://colleenchesebro.org/my-services-unicorn-cats-publishing-services/)

Blurb

Butterflies are interpreted, inter alia, as symbols of transformation and change, hope and rebirth, spirituality, the soul, creativity, nature, beauty, and resurrectionFaced with the annihilation of much of the planet’s forests, wetlands, and other habitats for wildlife, all the wonderful things that butterflies symbolise are gradually being destroyed.

This book celebrates Southern African flora and fauna, while acknowledging the threats it faces.

Roberta Writes – d’Verse: Poetics: Personifying The Abstract #dVerse #poetry #photography

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am currently undertaking a modernised rewrite of Dante’s Inferno. I now have a working title for this poem – Gaia’s Redemption. Anyhow, Mish’s Tuesday prompt was to write a poem including personification. This prompt was perfect for the first twenty lines of my re-write. In Canto II, I have agreed to undertake a journey through the nine levels of the Sixth Mass Extinction with my spirit elephant guide. I have entered the cave that takes us down into the bowels of the spirit world. If you are interested, you can read an analysis of Canto 2 of Dante’s Inferno here: https://www.litcharts.com/lit/inferno/canto-2

I missed the deadline for Mish’s prompt here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/25/poetics-personifying-the-abstract/ so I’m sharing it for Open Link Night here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/27/open-link-night-381/

CANTO II

A living, breathing creature, this Precambrian era cave

It’s 2.8-billion-year-old skin wrinkled by wear and time

Access defended by minions; entry limited to the brave

Their glowing forms a marriage of dolomite and lime

The monster silently screamed its uncertainty and rage

Spirit elephant paid it no heed, gliding past unchallenged

I drew in a great breath, plunged forward, ducking under

Wall of spear like stalactites from which moisture dripped

Somewhere deep below, a gong sounded like thunder

Death’s hand upon me, I ventured into the stone crypt                                               10

***

“Guide, I am concerned your trust in me is misplaced

I don’t know how to achieve your lofty expectations

What if I disappoint you? It will be a humiliating disgrace

I don’t want to face the environmentalists’ accusations”

My Guide did not pause or speak, just shone a soft light

Which illuminated two formations beneath the Hand of God

Symbolising the visual, the first’s gazed through dark eyes

The other gripped a pen between slender white fingers

Understanding came, pictures held power and told no lies

The written word facilitates communication with thinkers                                          20

My cave is based on the Sudwala Caves in Mpumalanga, South Africa. Here are some photographs from my recent visit to these caves.

Picture caption: Wall of the Sudwala Cave. This is a very ancient cave system, the oldest in the world, and is formed in dolomite
Picture caption: The Screaming Monster
Picture caption: This formation (the two small stalactites), is called Lot and his Wife – I thought the formation above looked like the Hand of God.
Picture caption: This formation is called Kentucky Fried Chicken. It hangs down from the ceiling of the cave

Below is my YouTube short of Somcuba’s Gong inside the Sudwala Caves