Tag Archives: death

Day 06 — Finnish Jar + tit for tat

Today’s prompt was to find a poem in a language you don’t know. I used the same one as the prompt, because, what the hey; a Finnish poem by Olli Heikkonen. Think about the sound and shape of the words, and the degree to which they remind you of words in your own language. Use those correspondences as the basis for a new poem. The end result doesn’t yet make a 100% sense, but it’s fascinating how easy it was to find images that slotted into my theme.

Finnish Original

Kumarra pihla jaa. Sen alle kasvot ylöspäin
veljesi on haudattu. Maan povessa luut
mustuvat, yrtit versovat nikamiin.
Kumarra pihlajaa, sen ihonkaltaista kuorta, oksan hankaan
ripustettua helminauhaa. Kumarra latvan liekkiä.
Juuret lävistävät veljesi rinnan.
Juuret lävistävät veljesi otsan.
Pihlaja on ääniä täynnä, jotka keväällä
puhkeavat lehdiksi. 

“Literal” Transmogrification into English

Come here phial jar. Sense all cease wot loss of pain
we shall see on hide at you. Man possess lute
must you wait, your heart verse of what nick mine.
Come here phial jar, then I hone kill taster aorta, oxen hanker
Riposte statue helm in a you are. Come here little one like care.
Enduring love is the what we shall see running.
Enduring love is the what we all jetson.
phial jar on any tiny, jot car coverall 
per karat lee discus. Dixie

Extract from Finnish Jar

Come near, fill my jar. Sense my loss, ceaseless pain.
We shall see what hides you. As man possesses lute
So must you wait, your heart a verse that nicks mine.

Day 6 – TIL about tiny punctuation

tit for tat

the dot above
a lowercase 
“i” is a tittle

the fact the line 
beneath is not
called a tattle

makes my eyes 
shove water
— just a jot!

https://www.poetryinternational.com/en/poets-poems/poems/poem/103-22322_Bow-before-the-mountain-ash#lang-en

Day 5 – underground haiku + Bottom-of-the-Sack St

Read a (mostly mediocre) haiku collection today. Since I really enjoyed the reverse poem creation from a couple of days ago, I applied that technique on several haiku in the collection that kind of felt resonant to my themes. I wasn’t precious about the supposed 5-7-5 structure (some of my regular haiku writing friends say if you’re counting syllables you’re not writing haiku) … all I was interested in was generating content not “pure haiku”. I’ve posted 2 of the 4 verses.

*****

beneath the white mist
an endless sigh of worms
thunder made by earth.

arrowheads of wind
bounce wildly between caverns
rumble away to night.

Day 5 – TIL about pluralising streets

Bottom-of-the-Sack St

the plural of cul-de-sac 
is culs-de-sac

a bit out of whack
& perhaps off track 

none the less 
that  (i thought) 

[prematurely perhaps]
ended that

but in the spirit of adequate research
i undertook a swift google search 

& let me say my mind did lurch
when i promptly also learnt 

the plural of cul-de-sac 
is also cul-de-sacs

mind blown to the max
so what’s lies & what facts?

i’m stressed & cannot relax 
till i know the correct syntax

— inventors of english 
you’re all maniacs 

Day 4 – Cave at Sunset + baby porcupine poem

Day 4’s challenge was to write a Triolet: rhyme scheme ABaAabAB (where capital letters represent lines repeated verbatim). Such formal structure poetry is always a challenge until you find the right line to serve as the spine. I’m not sure I quite have yet, but it’s a darn sight better than the original version.

*****

Excerpt from Cave at Sunset

From dark within the cave breathes earth
And the wild fireflies all fail to shine
Leaving every heart bereft of mirth

Funfact Day 4 – a baby porcupine poem

baby porcupines are called 
quite rightly & quite cutely
porcupettes/

{& nothing more of this poem was written
as the poet spent the reminder of his time
absolutely & overwhelmingly smitten
watching videos & googling porcupics online}

Day 3 – dirge + scary sea dogs

One of the NaPoWriMo sites Day 3 prompts was to take a short poem and rewrite it in opposites. Which I did. Then extended it a bit to make it work better for my purposes.

*****

Excerpt from dirge

must i always & ever slouch 
with shuffle-steps & off-key heart
back into the never-quite night


it matters not how ardently i avouch
how much i love the light
the rising path i can never again start

Poetic Factoid #03 — scary sea dogs

as a species 
our fear of sharks
biting us from below
as we lounge in their swim rooms
is nearly universal

despite this 
our galeophobia 
is irrational

given it’s 10 times more 
probable for a New Yorker 
to be bitten by another person
than anyone in the world
by a shark

Day 2 – O onstage + Yoda Einstein

My housemate & I attended Vintage Vibes tonight. It was a somewhat serendipitous choice because we got to see the legend up close & steaming … & was relevant to songs of under earth. Despite the chilly air, Dave Le’aupepe was still able to generate some much needed mythic heat. 

Funfact Day 2 – is based on the idea that Yoda was partly modelled on a photo of Albert Einstein. My Poetic Factoid revolves round the device of me Yodafiying three Einstein quotes.

*****

Excerpt from O onstage in 2023

he is sex : uncurling : on stage : foreplaying : with all of us : on & off the beat : always chanting about : always ranting about : love

Poetic Factoid #02 — Yoda Einstein

to the person who has the answers, don’t listen; 
who has the questions, to that person, listen

slowed down waves of sound & light we are
a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos

souls dressed up in garments biochemical & sacred, we are
instruments through which our souls their music play, our bodies are

Day 25 — make love not war (3 for the price of 1 today)

For once, I don’t feel conflicted about writing an Anzac Day Poem. And as happened 2 days ago with Bill Shakey Day, (& last year for both days) having a superimposed theme (“love” this year, “climate change” last) made me look at the day in a whole new way — which in turn has generated not 1, not 2, but 3 poems of which I am exceedingly pleased. 

Looking at love in war time is a wonderful way to get around the whole uncertainty I have about A25. 

It’s also a lovely way (pun intended) to honour, commemorate, call what you will my grandparents in poetical form.

*****

Anzac Triptych
1. Atherton Tablelands 
2. Goodbye Will Moon
3. TIL


*

1.
Atherton Tablelands

In April 1943 following three weeks leave after seeing action at Tobruk, Mersa Matruh and El Alamein Gunner RL JONES of the 2/7th Field Regiment arrived at Kairi in the Atherton Tablelands.

It was love at first sight.

Even though he was from 
a notoriously lush part
of the Adelaide hills the green 
in Far North Queensland 
is several degrees greater 
than most mortal eyes 
are used to — or able to endure.

Gunner RL Jones remained 
on the Tablelands with his unit
for almost two years — training
and playing upon the rich red 
loam born in ancient volcanoes.
Before being sent to Tarrakan 
that began the Allies’ Borneo 
Campaign. He survived those jungles 
by thinking often of the equally 
lush Atherton tablelands — 
until the Americans blew up 
the world and the war ended.

Gunner RL Jones eventually 
made his way home & made
Florence his fiancé.

Rueben told Florence. 
Of the green.
Of the red soil. 
Of his desire to move there.

Florence said no. 

He never saw the Tablelands again 


*

2.
Goodbye Will Moon

In late 1944 Corporal BI Burgan of RAAF 1 Squadron was likewise on leave when he visited his parents in Port Wakefield.

Quiet Sunday evening.
Parents off praying.
It’s been a long journey 
and I’ve only a few precious
day’s leave. But I know
dad will be disappointed
if I don’t attend. So 
although I don’t feel like it
reluctantly walk across town.

Only one seat remains 
in the very back pew.
Slide into that space next 
to a beautiful young woman
who smiles as I sit down.
Can’t concentrate. On 
what the pastor is saying.
Nor the service itself.
Nothing but —
that sublime smile.

Afterwards, I offer to walk 
her home and am bemused 
and delighted to discover 
she’s boarding with our next 
door neighbour.

We stand talking for ages
til I brazenly lean in
and kiss her over the garden gate.
I’d best go in now, she says.

The best night of my life.

During my leave we spend 
as much time as possible
together but it ends
all too quickly. Before I 
deploy to New Guinea 
I must tell her. I confess
undying love. The hammer 
blow. She’s engaged to another!
I didn’t know I say 
and chivalrously
offer to step aside. 

Leave it with me.
She says.
I’ll deal with it.

And. She. Did.


*

3.

TIL

today i learnt 
that unlike my
gran and grandad
nana and papa 
weren’t engaged
or even dating 
while he was away 
during the war
they only started 
seeing each other
after he got home 

her first  love 
     died     flying   bombers
over    germany 
   she       was                s h a t t e r e d
when   Will    was  
                                     killed 


suddenly saw my frail
ninety nine year old nana
       with  newer 
    sadder  eyes

Day 17 — Day 2 of the Festival of Grief

Today really is symbolic of more than just one loss: it’s a conglomeration of three anniversaries in one. The other two (one in June, one in July) grieve me too — but as they do not fall within Glo/NaPoWriMo they don’t usually get poems written about them. (Though the days of the FoG aren’t the only times poems get written or thoughts get thought about this topic). 

Given this month’s theme is love I’ve decided to deliberately include all three griefs in one poem. On the plus side, there are a multiplicity of loves on display within the poem, so it works on many levels.

Today’s poem is paired with one I wrote 28 years ago. It is included as bonus: an Easter egg if you like, not that you have to look too hard to find it.

advice from a fish

although today
commemorates
the first loss

you’re in countless 
poems, plays, story ideas
all three of you

for endless sorrowfilled years 
i wore your rings
round my neck

till they got 
too heavy to endure
& i was told 

by the fish 
for my own sanity 
take them off 

you knew too well
without the self-flagellation
of my despair

*****

BONUS POEM:

3 silver rings

around her neck
she wears three silver rings
on a gold chain
   & crucifix
one, a rose
one, a gallic cross
& one, all stars & moons

one each
for every child
which never was

Day 15 —  Day 1 of the Festival of Grief

My two wallowversaries are quite close together this year — Good Friday & Easter Sunday. GF being Day 1 of the Festival of Grief, ES Day 2. Each year I don’t know whether I’ll write about my grief on the date it happened or the day. Some years it’s both. The interesting thing about choosing a theme for the month is it makes me approach topics I’ve written about countless times with fresh eyes. Such as this …

to pin a wish

my only-ever astral child 
my first star girl
my free spirit
my whispered wish

only briefly tethered 
postmarked but never delivered 
addressed but never sent
never faded 
never dimmed
always present
in my heart 

would’ve loved you 
with my whole soul
every ether of being
guided you from child 
to woman as best i

cradled you
comforted you
held eggshell close
gifted free range
love love loved 

walked you down 
any aisle — assuming 
i could see given 
my eyes are waterfalls 
simply imagining 
such moments

the first wish i’d make
if any benevolent genie
ever give me a chance

my beautiful wondrous 
astral-only child 
my heart was torn away 
the day you ran red
down your mother’s legs

Day 13 – my favourite myth about love

During NaPoWriMo there are a plethora of sites & groups publishing writing prompts to help poets overcome the terrifying prospect of the blank screen or page day after day for 30 straight days. I rarely have a problem finding a topic but I usually check out what the prompts are in the groups I’m part of, just to see if there’s anything that interests me. 

An Australian-run group called The Dirty Thirty’s chosen topic today was myth. The number 13 is lucky and scary and shrouded in myth. So today, let’s talk myths. In your poem, find creative ways to include the actual story your myth was based on. 

This is manna from heaven for me & I immediately thought of one of my go to topics: the myth of Orpheus & Eurydice. I love this topic so much that I have several books devoted to the subject & I’ve written at least a dozen poems around the theme; the best of which I one day hope to publish as a chapbook or suite of poems (as part of a bigger volume) called songs of under earth. 

The Death of Orpheus

after many years : wandering : ever-mourning : his lost Eurydice : Orpheus worshipped : only the Apollo-sun

one morning : at the Dionysian oracle : on Mount Pangaion : while greeting dawn’s rosy fingers : with his peerless lyre-playing : as part of his : daily sun god salute : the Maenads : resenting Orpheus’ refusal : to honour : his previous patron : sought to harm him : threw sticks & stones : yet the lilt : of his music : was so sublime : & so strong : the rocks & branches : refused to strike 

enraged : they threw themselves : instead : in a furioso frenzy : ripping : rending : wrenching : his mortal body : to shreds : blood lust madness : engulfing them all

when the women : who tore him apart : tried to cleanse : their gore-covered hands : the river sank : below ground 

as did : Orpheus’ shade : finally : to be reunited

Day 02 – lessons from Constellations 

My housemate & I saw the play Constellations tonight. It was his choice because as the program states: Payne’s script presents a series of vignettes centring on two characters across various parallel universes — the same setting & conversation, but different outcomes each time. This unconventional love story set in the quantum multiverse has us asking: What if there are infinite versions of you & I?  And what if there are multiple universes pulling our lives in a myriad of different directions? — & he has been toying with similar themes in a play he said he wants to call the final last night of our lives. (I think it’s a great title & might even pinch it if he doesn’t produce something soon. Fair warning given!)

Tonight’s play was interesting without being awe-inspiring. But given it explored themes of love in occasionally unusual ways, there was some useful material that had me both thinking during the play & on the drive home. With that in mind here’s a pome-in-progress; structural inspired by the play — ie, in vignette form & using rhythm, repetition & some images from the play.

lessons from Constellations 
(vignettes about love)

i. 
love is knife edge sharp
love is knife edge hard
love is a knife
i am knifed
Et tu

ii. 
the dangerous act
of loving someone 
leaves you alone
with your fragility 

iib. 
perhaps even frail, guilty
for there is always 
one other who comes 
between us & our egos

iii. 
we remain perpetually 
lost among the great 
mechanical quantumness 
of love forevers

we blithely step through
those ever sliding doors 
some into happy afters
some into miseries unending
some into sunlight
some into death
supernova bright 

we still try

iv. 
night ships
titanic dinghies
missing their chance
thieving time
as they crash 
into everything 
but the ice

v. 
always peeking 
doors of death 
despite the possible multiplicities
& symmetry of circles 

there is no formula for love 
all we have are 
our imperfect hearts
& fireflies brief lives