Day 27 & dVerse: The Devil rubaiyat

Today’s poem answers to two poetry challenges again. I think I might as well get it out: Hello, my name is Manja and I’m an overachiever.  

But first a very special token of gratefulness to Charlotte at Zouxzoux for a wonderful surprising mention in her yesterday’s poem. ❤ Blown away by the better written.

And now to today.

Challenge 27: “We challenge you to pick a card (from the tarot deck), and then to write a poem inspired either by the card or by the images or ideas that are associated with it.”

I knew immediately that I have heaps of photo material since I live 15 minutes from Niki de Saint Phalle’s Tarot Garden (Il giardino dei tarocchi), a sculpture park with one sculpture dedicated to every major tarot card. There was also no doubt which one I would pick.

Then I realised that dVerse ~ Poets Pub posts challenges every day, not every week one as I had thought, and again it was Lilian the Home Poet who spurred me into action. She wrote under her poem that it was

written for dVerse, where today Frank hosts, asking us to write a rubaiyat: a poem consisting of quatrains (stanzas of four lines) and, if using more than one stanza, employs a “nesting” rhyme pattern: AABA, BBCB — and each line is written in iambic pentameter. It’s a poetry sudoku!

I have admired a Frank’s rubaiyat before and upon reading this lovely invitation by Lilian knew immediately that I wanted to do a poetry sudoku too, with the nesting rhyme and all. Here is my first rubaiyat then. And if somebody told me two weeks ago that I’d be doing one, I’d laugh in their faces.

The Devil

The first time that I pulled the devil card
was when the actors’ troupe had made it hard
to miss it since one hanged it round my neck
and I was forced to act in this regard.

Then Niki’s Tarot Garden and her deck
were waiting for me to arrive and check
each statue to decide which one was best
at capturing my heart without a crack.

At first glance I stood still as if possessed.
Her calm stance made me think this was a test.
At once a thought formed in my weakened state:
“Out-Deviling the Devil is my quest!”

NaPoWriMo

And here is the action in images, with various family members, friends, random kids and your photographer outdeviling Niki’s she-devil.

27 thoughts on “Day 27 & dVerse: The Devil rubaiyat

    1. Thank you, Charlotte. 🙂 Yes, I often post from there but I still haven’t done one overview post with a photo of each sculpture. Will do soon. It’s indeed a special place.

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  1. As much alike as we are as Taurians, Why isn’t that a word? We’re also complete opposites! I’ve not been an over achiever since grade school. Once I hit Middle School I was all about being me, and if I didn’t feel inclined to go with the majority I didn’t, and if I did, I did. I’m the same way today.

    I’ve been content to be me, and just do what I have to to get along, and get my needs met since I was old enough to figure that out. Over achieving ins’t part of my make-up. I’m lazy. Really I think the Bull wasted on me outside of being stubborn and not budging when I think/know I’m right
    I’ve thought I’d be a perfect cat. Pamper me , feed me, and leave me alone to do what ever, when ever I want, and come rubbing up on you when I want to for love and a good stroke, and purr like a kitten making your heart melt while I reveled in how amazing those pets and strokes you were giving me felt. Then just when you thought all was good I arch my back and turn away and head to the sunniest spot in the place and groom myself, and ignore, and snob you all majestic like. And you’d be like…what? I thought we were friends!

    Ha! I’m a cat. Get real! 🙂

    Yeah, that could be me. But, if there’s reincarnation I hope I come back as white tailed Kite. If not that then a cat. Either of those two and I’d be happy. If there is reincarnation…but I don’t believe in that really.

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    1. Hihi, Deborah, this is fun to imagine, you as a cat. 🙂 The reason why I’m so floored by this realisation is that I was never anywhere near over-achieving in all my life. I’m lazy and proud of it. This month-long poetry thing is really pulling stuff out of me that I never knew I had inside. Weird but fascinating. I’m not sure I know what a white-tailed kite is, probably a bird. Will google it. (The kite I know is inanimate.) Thank you for imagining with me.

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      1. I’ve always liked classy. If I could choose to be anything in the afterlife I would be a White-tailed Kite.
        If those were all taken I’d be a cat. However, I believe in after resurrection not afterlife so it’s not likely that I’ll be a Kite or cat. I’ll be me in my prime doing what I do best. Which is probably teaching. I won’t complain and that would be Heaven for me.

        Funny that in my Earthy life I teach, but only to my children and those who will listen.

        But my Christian upbringing has me thinking and believing I’m just going to me at my prime when I’m resurrected. Which puts me at about age 50 which was the best physically fit I’ve ever been. Not bad really. Size 8, pretty well educated, and ready for whatever comes next.

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  2. Artistic…if you study Taurians you’ll find a loftof us are artistic. Painting, writing, music, or architecture.
    Artistic… that’s in our make up.

    I’ve wanted to be a pianist and watercolor artist all my life. That’s not happening. Late in life I became and still am obsessed with the French language and being fluent in it. I’ve been studying French since the late 90’s. I am not fluent, but am compelled to confine to the language.
    I told my Mom I think when I die I’ll be in a place that has only French people and to get out and into Heaven I’ll need to talk my out and that means speaking French. GOOD FRENCH!

    She laughed out loud. Like it was a silly notion, but I’m obsessed, and feel compelled to learn this language. I think the Holy Ghost is guiding me and it is not a silly notion. I’ve bee studying French since 1998!
    The really sad thing is that I’m not fluent and not much past a beginner at conversation.

    I floated for weeks on being complimented by a French man at the information Kiosk at the O’r’say Museum for my French language, and comprehension skills, , and the guy at the Metro who would let me retrieve my luggage and get a pass to get through the turnstile if I didn’t explain my issue in French. I did but it wasn’t easy! Those two French Bigots taught me a lot!

    The lesson: Rather than being mad and offended I learned the language, and how to make my way around Paris. They were tough, and unforgiving Patriots of France. I can’t fault them for loving their county, language, and culture. I grew because of them.

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