Babel of words

by Rochelle Del Borrello

  • Babel of words
  • About Me
  • Poetry
  • Random Reading
  • Eclectic Listening
  • Essay

Dream of a bear

March 24, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in Poetry, Experimental, Words, power of words, Dreams

I dreamt I was trampled by a bear.

A giant golden coloured female grizzly.

I got too close to her cubs and she charged me.

The sound was epic like the reverberation of an earthquake.

She threw down the walls of the cabin and made the earth shake.

I was in awe of her power.

I felt no pain as I pretended to be dead,

holding my breath as long as I could in the dream.

I woke up so I could breathe.

I’m sure I survived. 

She was only roaring out her anger over me

in this outer body experience.

This dream makes me wonder if I am being crushed by my own

expectations and inner frustrations.

Or if I need to roar out my anger too.



March 24, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
dreams, dream interpretations, the power of dreams, subconscious, the meanings of dreams, experimental, difficult writing, difficult reading
Poetry, Experimental, Words, power of words, Dreams
Comment

Self inflicted (digital collage) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Self-inflicted

March 15, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in regret, Motivation, Affirmations, Poetry, survival, creative writing, Words, Difficult writing, Experimental

Everything creative is filled with self-inflicted torture and doubt.

 

We do it because once it's done there is something which exists beyond ourselves.

 

Creativity speaks to everyone at the same time.

 

A universal language connecting everyone to one another.

 

To remind us we all essentially go through the same struggles.


March 15, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
doubt, self inflicted, resolution, reget, univeral, emotion, interconnections
regret, Motivation, Affirmations, Poetry, survival, creative writing, Words, Difficult writing, Experimental
Comment

The Kiss (digital collage) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Blew you a kiss

March 08, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in regret, Motivation, Experimental, survival, creative writing, Difficult reading, Words, Observation, Difficult writing, power of words

I blew you a kiss even though I wanted to give you a real one.

I turned around and walked away.

Heartbroken.

I wish you’d followed me.

 

I never wanted to hurt you, but I think I did.

I was so stupid and naive, I never saw you.

Actually I thought you didn’t like me.

It is frightening to bare your heart,

declare your feelings.

 Most people are afraid

when it comes to big feelings.

Was I really that intimidating?

Couldn’t you have said something.

Why was I so blind?

Why did I have to fuck up my life so much? 

Now we are so far from one another.

I don’t know if I can pull myself out of the hole I’ve dug.

I need to get out of this pit because no one is coming to rescue me.

And you don’t even know how much I ache for you.

I’m surely damned.


March 08, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
reget, big feelings, emotions, making connections, connections, finding salvation, inner strength, persistance
regret, Motivation, Experimental, survival, creative writing, Difficult reading, Words, Observation, Difficult writing, power of words
Comment

Talking to myself (digital collage) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Talking to myself

February 22, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in Books and reading, Motivation, Poetry, Experimental, creative writing, survival, Words, Observation, power of words

I prefer talking to myself rather than talking about other people.

It's nice to see others doing well, but the rest of someone's life is none of my business.

Gossip is the home of people who do too little and criticise too much.

That little green-eyed monster

filled with venomous envy

 leave it in its own poison.

It's best to avoid talking about others.

I converse with myself, pen and paper or fingers and keyboard

a tête-à-tête with lense and aperture or paint and brush.

An opinion expressed to the full is the most fulfilling 

element to life, 

completing thoughts that steadily tick over in the mind

these are the things that interest me.


February 22, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
gossip, creativity, creative writing, poetry, poetry is therapy
Books and reading, Motivation, Poetry, Experimental, creative writing, survival, Words, Observation, power of words
Comment

Delicate (digital line drawing) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Deceptively Delicate

February 15, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in creative writing, Difficult reading, Difficult writing, Experimental, Poetry, Words, power of words

Poetry is deceptively delicate

it's a whisper which gradually becomes a scream

a dream turning into a nightmare

which stays with you all-day

a compliment transformed into an insult

subtle niceties and manners on the

surface while being sarcastic and real below.

 

It is the truth, leaking out

of the heart despite itself.

The beat of a constant drum

below the flourishes of what we

create for ourselves.

Subversive, not submissive

honest razor-sharp observation

its words are strength,

they can be deadly.

Thank the muse for bringing the light

of poetry, into a tenebrous world.


February 15, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
power of words, deception, poetry is alive, poetry is therapy, persistance, power of poetry
creative writing, Difficult reading, Difficult writing, Experimental, Poetry, Words, power of words
Comment

Discovering music

February 10, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in Visseral sounds, Eclectic Listening, Music, Words, Observation, Importance of music

When it comes to music I have a clumsy knack of accidentally discovering things by mistake. I come from a working-class family of Italian migrants whose main concern was work. The most precious gifts my parents and grandparents gave me was the freedom to experience art, music and words. I never had anyone telling me what to listen to, read, or watch, I’ve discovered everything with blissful randomness.

I came into contact with opera and classical music one Sunday afternoon as a bored twelve-year-old channel surfing on the t.v during school holidays in Australia. I stumbled upon a live Met opera broadcast on the ABC network and it has never left my memory ever since. Twirling through the radio channels on my old stereo made me find ABC Classic FM, a radio station dedicated to classical music, which educated me on all sub-genres of this complex type of music, up until my mid-twenties when I moved to Italy and sadly lost this soundtrack to my life.

I first heard the American beat poet Allen Ginsberg performing his Ballad of the Skeletons on Australian Triple J radio station, the year that he died, which lead me to Jack Kerouac, Patti Smith and an entire generation of artists I didn’t know existed.

I heard Roy Orbison when his final album came out in 1988, warbling out You Got it, I fell for his ephemeral voice and slowly worked my way backwards through the catalogue of one of the founding fathers of Rock and Roll, gathering an understanding of everyone from Elvis Presley, to Charlie Perkins, Johnny Cash and the Grand Old Opry. 

The Travelling Wilbury’s lead me to the songbooks of Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, George Harrison and Jeff Lynn. Which led me to Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Costello and Tom Waits all in a natural organic progression through American and British rock.

I discovered musicals also from the t.v watching Sunday afternoon re-runs of classics from Gene Kelly’s American in Paris, Singing in the Rain to Mary Poppins, the Sound of music, Carousel, Seven brides for seven brothers, Brigadoon, The Wizard of Oz and a whole universe of stories. 

I’m eternally grateful for late-night classic movie re-runs which gave me the joy of witnessing Fred Astair’s fancy footwork and amazing works of art performed by amazing actors like Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn, Lauren Bacall, Peter Lorre, Charles Laughton, Peter Ustinov, Charlton Heston, Kurt Douglas, James Stewart, Vivien Leigh, Bette Davis and the endless stars in a galaxy who shone so brightly in the now classic Hollywood style. But then that’s a whole other story. 

Today my playlist is a motley succession of artists from Icelandic princess Bjork, to the hauntingly addictive voice of Thom York, the beautifully retro sound of Amy Winehouse, the original power of Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday and equally powerful Florence Welch. And this will change according to my moods, the seasons and whatever else I may be thinking of, consuming or witnessing in the world.

There is precious little pop in my listening unless, despite the best of my ability, I find something too catchy to ignore or become transfixed on a chorus or a tune, but it soon works its way out of my system.

I’m Australian so I grew up with some great lyricists playing on my radio including Nick Cave, Paul Kelly, Missy Higgins and Gotye.

The haphazard habit of discovery continues today when I am suddenly struck by the unique sound of someone like Billie Ellish or Grace Vander Wall.

There was a period of my life where I forgot about music. As is the case with grief, loss or trauma, your body goes numb and you kind of phase-out of the world completely as you take time to heal your heart and slightly damaged soul. For a moment listening to music was painful. But eventually, the music came back, it eventually does as you begin to live again. Music has helped me immensely to keep going despite great sadness and holds up many of us.

Words and music have been the two things that have helped me through life. Music reminds us we are never alone, that we are each a part of a wonderful story which is, in turn, a part of ourselves. Our emotions are the same as everyone's, and our experiences contribute to this collective knowledge which grows and continues beyond us. Music is a part of the universal language of love, compassion, emotion and humanity which sustains us all.

I live in Italy now and I’m fascinated by the sounds of contemporary Italian music which has developed along the same line as Britain, America and Australia. I love the sounds of Italian rap artists like Fabri Fibra, Fedez and Jovanotti or the trendy almost K-pop sounds of Maneskine or the Kolors and the soul singer sounds of Noemi and Fiorella Mannoia.

It is truly fascinating to think of how we each have a unique relationship with music and song. For me, it's about finding a unique sound or story which sticks to my mind. It may be something which gives me pleasure, helps me to forget, laugh or cry, but above all it’s a unique connection to an emotive universal language.

I want to write more about music so I’ll be publishing occaional posts here about my electic listening habits and share some visseral reactions to different sounds I’ve heard. Be sure to listen and read along here on A Babel of Words as words and music cannot exist without one another.

My listening playlist is uniquely connected to me and my personality, we each have a personal soundtrack which accompanies us through life.

C1CA0B51-ACA7-41E5-BF0E-8FF54F60936F.jpg
Newsletter Block
This newsletter signup form needs a storage option. Edit the block and enter a storage location via the Storage tab.

Subscribe

Sign up with your email address to receive news and updates.

We respect your privacy.

Thank you!

February 10, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
discovering music, the magic of music, music, visseral listening, the soundtrack of life, musical meditations
Visseral sounds, Eclectic Listening, Music, Words, Observation, Importance of music
Comment

Self Portrait (digital sketch) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2000

I see

February 08, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in Affirmations, creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, Observation, Poetry, survival, Words

I see right through you

and into your wild madness

like a transparent teardrop

a bubble that bursts and dissipates

trickling down my leg

and into the ground

drying up in the sun

an anticlimax, all but forgotten.


February 08, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
observations, transparent, persistance, Poetry
Affirmations, creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, Observation, Poetry, survival, Words
Comment

Tortured for my sins (digital sketch) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2021

Nightmare

February 01, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, Observation, Poetry, Words

I dreamt of two thick red devils

with grotesque heads

who were at the edge of hell

one was eating a baby

the others throbbing penis

dragging on the ground

they were babbling to one another

I knew I was in hell

I was so sad

I did not know what to do

I was being tortured for my sins.


February 01, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
dreams, nightmares, hell, subconscious, Freudian
creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, Observation, Poetry, Words
Comment

Untitled (digital collage) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Still here

January 25, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, memento mori, Observation, Poetry, regret, survival, Words

Love is still here for you

as I light a candle

in front

of your photo

 

I remember how your grandson and I

smothered you with hugs and kisses

the last time we said goodbye

 

Our love for you remains

here suspended in the air

you are intertwined in these

three words.


January 25, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
grief, love, loss, saying goodbye, eternity, memories
creative writing, Difficult reading, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, memento mori, Observation, Poetry, regret, survival, Words
2 Comments

Your future outlook (digital collage) ©️Rochelle Del Borrello 2022

Tangled

January 18, 2022 by Rochelle Del Borrello in creative writing, Difficult writing, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, memento mori, Motivation, Observation, Poetry, regret, survival, Words

Sometimes I get tangled up with everyday life.

 

One fine, straight cotton thread becomes entwined

around my family, work, children and economic situation.

 

Once it was easy to thread a needle and get to work as I please

now the loop is twisted and turned upon itself around others

and then back to me.

 

The more I try to pull away from it the tighter it becomes.

 

Like those poor sea lions and marine animals caught up in plastic

fishing lines cutting into their own skin

around mouths, restricting movement until they starve to death

 

Could I cut myself out?

What would be left of me?

The thread is cutting off chunks of flesh

surely there won't be much of myself left

the tangle is too tight to be unthread.


January 18, 2022 /Rochelle Del Borrello
depression, hope, survival, overcoming, persistance, perseverance
creative writing, Difficult writing, Experimental, Loss and bereavement, memento mori, Motivation, Observation, Poetry, regret, survival, Words
Comment
  • Newer
  • Older

Powered by Squarespace