Saturday, October 1, 2011

Poetic Reflections - week 7

Welcome to week 7 and Poetic Reflections. I am Blaga and today our guest is
Welcome Cherlyn! Thank you for your time, sharing thoughts with The Gooseberry Garden!

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To have great poets there must be great audiences too. ~Walt Whitman

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Deploring Dreams
by Cherlyn Cochrane
I did not notice my despair,

or my unending internal regret.

But slowly I began to become aware

of the face I could not forget.

The smile that could melt my soul -

those eyes of a sea-like hue.

And I have yet to feel as whole

as when I spent my time with you.

Perhaps with time the wounds will heal,

and all I’ve done will be redeemed;

but maybe regret is how I’ll always feel -

and I will be left within this dream.


Who is Cherlyn?


I guess the basic stuff first, ease everyone into who Cherlyn really is. I’m 22 year old woman, single, curvy, loud and a bit sarcastic. I’m from Canada, and I live in Burlington from the province of Ontario. I’m a graduate of Culinary Management as well as Food and Nutrition Management from Fanshawe College, and will be a student again in January for Medical Administration. I find it hard to define myself in terms of where I’m from and what I do when I’m trying to describe myself – which makes me sound a lot more generic than I probably am. I find you can tell a lot about who I am from reading the little quips and arguments I have with myself scattered throughout my blog – an insight into the person’s soul is evident with how they talk to themselves. Oh yes, and I’m the Rambler – the most evil of super villains.

Tell me about your blog, about the name and what it means to you? When did you start blogging?


I started blogging January 8th of 2010 – technically. I had the blog for a good two or three days before I could figure out what to write. The name: Over a Cup of Coffee kind of came to me when I was still trying to figure out what I was going to write about and my own style. I’m a self-proclaimed caffeine junky (and proud of it!), so I suppose to me it seemed fitting. Originally I was going to write whenever I was drinking my coffee, just whatever thoughts popped into my head – but since I drink so much throughout the day that’d be impossible. Now, the title of my blog kind of illustrates my overall outlook on life – everything looks better over a cup of coffee.


What draws you to express yourself through poetry? Where do you find inspirations from?


Most of my inspirations stem from my own emotions. I suppose I can tend to be a recluse of sorts when it comes to my feelings, surprisingly I’ve been called a cold person, or very guarded. And on some degree I can see what they mean. Poetry I find gives me an outlet to let out my thoughts and feelings without feeling like all my walls are down. It’s like a window into my soul and heart – and once in a while the crabby old lady inside of me will forget to close the blinds.

When did you first write a poem? Do you remember it?

I probably wrote a lot of poems when I was younger, but nothing that I remember. I do remember actually getting really into writing when I was in grade 8. I’ve scoured my old journals of stupid teenage drama and angst, but apparently I didn’t start to really share my poetry until grade 10. This is the earliest poem I have found of mine, and though I’m not very fond of it now, I guess back then it meant a lot to me. I remember writing it because a friend at the time was very depressed and angsty, and I suppose I blamed myself for whatever reason. I found it in one journal, but I know I didn’t share it at least two years later – I was a bit shy with my poetry back then. Be kind when you read this, I’m not very fond of it now.


Little Girl
by Cherlyn Cochrane


There, there little girl.
Everything will be all right.
I will wipe your tears away
And I will hold your tight.


I will fight your demons,

And shield you from the rain.

I will stand beside you;

I will take away your pain.


Don’t cry little girl,

I will hold your hand.

I will be your crutch

When you feel you cannot stand.


When you are blind,

I will lead the way.

When you need a friend,
I promise I will stay.


There, there, little girl.

Everything will be all right.

I will watch over you

For each and every night.

Is there a style of writing you prefer? Do you write only poetry?


I try to not stick to one style of writing, I like to explore new styles and to challenge myself. Lately I’ve only been writing poetry, but I like to write short stories, I have a novel I’ve shelved and let collect dust, and I write little musings on my blog from time to time.

Favorite poem you've written?
I have a few that I’m rather fond of – not because I think they’re necessarily the best I’ve written, but because they mean a lot to me emotionally, or I’ve invested a lot of created juices into them.

Tomb
by Cherlyn Cochrane
Alas from my birth I have been

alone – Mature at seventeen -
I know the truth – Life is cold
and empty - Will I die old
and alone? – My hair turns grey -
Skin wrinkles – Will I die today? -
Life’s gone by – nothing to show -
I will meet my maker below
and bow – nothing more to give
my Lord – My mistakes I relive
with every blink – the pain remains
clear – lost hope courses through my veins -
The sky turns red as death draws near -
Slowly I relive my fear -
Lost hope of love – Lost hope of life -
As time went by I’m no man’s wife -
No legacy beyond my time -
No prayers to those who are sublime -
The sun rises – it lights the room -
Alone today – my immortal tomb.

Favorite books? Authors?


I have three favourite books: The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill (hurray for Canadian authors!), The Shining by Stephen King, and Dune by Frank Herbert. I’m a very complex person, and I think the wide range of my favourite books illustrates that.


Do you think that an interactions with strangers/ people you meet in the blogging world/ is a meaningful part of your creative vision?


Oh absolutely – there’s so many great people I’ve met online and through the blogging community especially that have inspired me. Writing my blog has helped me realize that the world isn’t as wide and foreign as I may have previously believed – there are kindred spirits in the far reaches of the planet, feeling the same joys, fears, sorrows and angers that I do. The first blogger to help me branch out was Tom Baker, who introduced me to two of my poetry inspirations Blaga Todorova and Jamie Dedes. And with the poetry potluck and Jingle Poetry, I’ve been finding so many talented authors and poets to draw some inspiration from. Each of these beautiful souls have helped me come to terms with my own demons on some level by reading my work, giving me feedback, and sharing their work – making me feel like I’m not alone.


Any advice for people involved with poetry even not professionally, what do you think is important for them to appreciate and follow?

First off I definitely don’t consider myself a professional poet, so for anyone out there doing it as a hobby, or just as a creative practice, you are not alone! I think the best advice I can give is to put your pen to the paper and write what you feel. You don’t have to share it with anyone, just keep on writing – hone your craft, find your style and be honest with yourself and your heart. You’ll be surprised what comes out. And even if you don’t think it’s any good, sometimes it’s good to share, because there are a lot of amazing people out there who can help point out what is good with your work, and help you improve your poetry. Most importantly, write for yourself, never to impress anyone else – poetry should be a reflection of ones soul and heart, accept it and be happy with it – for both your writing and your soul are complex and beautiful.

His Mother’s Legacy
by Cherlyn Cochrane

He sat and watched her from a distance –
her beautiful locks of ginger flowing;

unaware of her watcher’s existence,

and his dark obsession growing.

The man followed her day and night,

as she lived blissfully unaware.

Hiding cautiously out of sight –

never seen, but always there.

One night, while for the bus she waited

he approached the girl of his dreams –

“I’ve been looking for you” he stated,

and soon he was muffling her screams.

Gerard – his name, took her below

to the basement – his mother’s resting place

(whom he killed long ago);

and with this girl he shall replace

his mother. Use her for his pain;

inflicting her with grief –

as much as she can sustain,

until death is her relief.

With her passing he will find another,

just as beautiful, just as fair –

to become his dead mother,

and to fill her with despair.

Memories of childhood haunt his mind;

from the pain Gerard will never be free.

And every women shall remind

him of his mother – who caused him agony.


That would be all for today, dear Garden readers, if you like to discover more about Cherlyn, visit her at http://cursemymetalbody.wordpress.com/
Thank you for following Gooseberry Garden and today! Stay tuned for Poetic reflection - week 8.
I am Blaga and I wish you a happy Sunday!

3 comments:

Jingle Poetry said...

she is an angel, loved her poetry via poets rally.

Thanks for featuring her.

Stafford Ray said...

These are dark thoughts and I hope not permanently lurking to cloud your days! But such people so exist, thankfully rare; so rare in fact that they are given names and remembered for a generation or longer, like Jack the Ripper.
But the poetry is very good and that is the core of the comment.

cursemymetalbody said...

Thanks for featuring me :) And I hope Stafford Ray doesnt think I'm a serial killer lol.