Tag Archives: poetry

Day 21 – Taking a Stone Away

I’ve played with a couple of ideas today, but none have truly impressed me. So I’m just going to go with this one. The poem pretty much tells its own story.

NOTE: This is the first poem of the month not inspired by a book (I think after scouring dozens of books for inspiration for the past 21 days, I’m temporarily over them. To be honest, I’ve hardly read anything for pleasure this month, which is quite sad).

This game is called Song Title (so not that much different really 🙂 )

Stone Heart

side 1: a heart
ever since the resumed after
twenty years love affair failed
before it began — a stone
has sat on my heart ; despite

all your claims of missed love ;
soul mates separated ; being one
that got away & comparing
me to every lover since — none

of that meant anything once
you arrived — & so for two long
sad years , i couldn’t bear
listening to the band you said

we would dance to when married

side 2: break
no more death defying acts to please
you as you laughed from the stalls —
you delighted in making our love
crash & burn in the middle of main

street — so everyone soon knew
what a grizzly bear you were not
the wonder i’d sold them — so ,
i drank a little whiskey — & sure ,

whenever i wonder wherever you are
my heart beats slow — other things
slow my broken heart too — but
take my word for it — at long last

i have been able to get home

boat CROP

Day 20 – All the Games, All at Once

Today was Day 3 of my Poet’s Residence (yep, already 3/4 of the way through it) & it was a wonderful day. When I arrived there was already someone waiting to start (Christine), and within a minute Kim arrived (I had spoken to him last week & he came back to participate this week). Within an hour, both had written quite lovely poems. Kim said he will post his on his blog. I hope he does & if so, I will link to it.

Neither Christine or Kim could stay for the whole session, but overall I had five people in today, including my friend & fellow poet Sarah Radford, who whipped off a wonderful poem based on the Last Line (Gone) of one of the books Kim chose (“bleed like me” was the line.) Kim also wrote a great poem using that prompt. My “bleed like me” poem, however, needs further work before I’ll share it.

The day ended with another new arrival, Rohan – who created in under an hour, a very sparse, elegant landscape poem which he also promised to put on his blog.

I also wrote a poem I was extreeeeeeeeeemmmmllllllllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyy pleased with (tentatively called lift, the title’s the main thing that needs tweaking). I’m not sharing that one day here, but will read it next week during the performance phase of my final day.

But here’s the one I will share. It was made by combining the games Judging a Book By Its Cover, Last Line (Gone) & even, First Line to End It.

game of thorns

to live a life — where you are happy — more often — than you are not — where the jagged thorns — don’t puncture skin — too often — where your world is framed — by bramble — hidden away — in a castle — long ago abandoned — by disney — where the darkness — reflects — where stars salt the sky — where the cold — is sharper than sleep — where the zig zag path — always leads — to the crescent moon — & where — ‘once upon a time’ — actually meant something

thorn closeup CROP

Games played with the cover, first line & last line of Spinning Thorns by Anna Sheehan (reworking of the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale). Last line: “And that really is all anyone can hope for” & first line: “once upon a time”.

Day 19 – Photocopy of a photocopy of Dante

Another day of Last Line (Gone). Yesterday was fun & easy. Rules: use last line of book as first line of poem, then once complete, remove it [Optional extra: let book’s title influence the mood of the poem]. Again, stream-of-conscious, fast, fun & very little editing.

After tonight’s excellent Lee Marvin Reading, fellow poet & friend Thom Sullivan & I, sat on some public furniture & chatted about the poeting caboodle. He mentioned (again) Australian poet, John Kinsella as someone whose (best) work interests him. He’s suggested I should read him several times now, oops … & every time I’ve promised myself that when I get home, I’d remember to take out my only book of Kinsella’s (Divine Comedy: Journeys through a regional geography) & check it out.

Tonight, at last, I remembered. (Well, to take it out. In reality, I only “checked out” the last couple of pages.) Today’s last line is taken from that collection.

semidivine comedy

we hoped we would — instead — we rushed apart — like breaking glass — like the coffee cup — tipping over your phone — notebook — collection of poetry you were carrying — it’s been that kind of day — road blocks — crime scene tape — bureaucratic pedantry — bureaucratic banality — bureaucratic pettiness — always had trouble spelling bureaucracy — even after spellcheck figured out — what i was trying to type — still get it wrong — the word as irritating — as the construct — it represents — a day spent rushing — trying to catch up to itself — sort itself out — wondering where you went — whether you’d be back — another heart — left behind — another story — incomplete — a homeless guy — with a worse tale — doesn’t even know a joke — but can rail — against the system — give him money — realise — life can be a starlit canto — if you let it

semdivcomCROP

LAST LINE: grow inseparable.

Day 17 – The Contents of White

Been playing a couple of Games with this book (it is the favourite childhood book of a friend who had her engagement party last Friday – this was intended as cheapskate’s gift). Sadly, this is the only Game which is finished & (sort of) works. Names in bold have been altered to protect the identity of the book (a little, not much). It should be an easy solve.

chapters

before breakfast
wilma knew what she wanted
escape from endless
loneliness until
charlie came into his life
                                                  but
summer days don’t last
bad news was given during
a talk at home &
wilma’s boast caused
an explosion
the miracle was no one was
                                                         hurt
a meeting was held
good progress declared
dr. dorian was happy
the crickets even laughed
                                                 so
off to the fair everyone went even
uncle zuckerman
                                 in
the cool of the evening
the egg sac gave up its gold
the hour of triumph arrived as the
last day of her life faded

a warm wind blew all webs
                                                      away

webCROP

Day 16 – Gossip with a Graphic Twist

Today’s poem began as a game of Gossip (except, instead of taking phrases, I only took one word, occasionally two) based around one of a friend’s favourite childhood books. The resulting pome however, contains messages young chillin’ perhaps shouldn’t read haha. There is also another game going on which I hope you’ll pick up on too.

the gall of my dagger †

this list is not intended to be:

a complete & comprehensive
compendium of my addictions
i don’t live in a liquor aquarium

though i do enjoy a tot o’rum
sometimes before, but usually
after my daily dose of laudanum

there’s no panacea for unhygienic bacteria
other than drown them with spirits
get myself well & truly blotto

i’m content if i get a fix of cacophony
before the cirrhosis coffin encases me
though my gall or liver may not be

“live fast die young” is my motto
i will not be one of those ancient geriatrics
to whom every breath is an impediment

my vital statistics will be perfect & fully automatic
as i soar from the cliff’s edge in my stolen
ferrari  — of this i am quite dogmatic

for while i opt out via automotive hari kari
as i’m shifting into fifth over the Styx
i know i’ll be remembered with an *

† note: another name for dagger is obelisk

*crop copy

Day 14 – Second New Game, still learning the rules

Being a new week (after second Poet in Residence session yesterday), means I start a new game (actually I’ll be playing a couple this week).

This one I’m still kinda making up as I go along (it’s a test run for next week) & it harks back to the Title Poem of week one, I’m calling it Gossip: which means – Choosing a book, opening it randomly several times, picking out phrases, words, images, ideas … then assembling them to make a poem. I have chosen a phrase from: the first & last pages (1 & 378), every 50 pages (50, 150, 200, 250, 300, 350), & 5 random pages (55, 173, 221, 292 & 292, yes I opened it to the same page twice)

I’ve done a couple of test runs today & it’s certainly easier than Title Poem was. More fun too, cos there’s more choice & you can choose ‘clues’ to help give the book away. Can you guess the identity of the book? Today’s is, admittedly, pretty easy …

shirley of verdant verandahs

it was a terrible temptation
an irresistible temptation
so much superfluous flesh

the dark secrets of pool
& cascade soft mingling
of fireshine & shadow

the sunshine fell down
the sunshine of a 100 summers
through the misty blue air

but my ambition in life
is to go down the shore road
beyond the bend in the road

beyond the wind & stars & fireflies
till i can forget all about you
your drinking of raspberry cordial

& how one of your roses fell
out of your hair which i
picked up & put in my pocket

Verdant CLOSEUP

Note: the order the lines appear in are pages: 173, 200, 55, 1, 292, 100, 292, 350, 300, 50, 378, 221, 150, 250

 

 

 

Day 13 – Leaf Cycle

Day two of my residency went well. One more person than last week, but none of them stayed the whole three hours — which was fine by me … my brief is to write poetry while there & to interact with library patrons & to impart (hopefully) some slight dose of poeticking wisdom whenever possible. (I’m keeping notes on each session & my plan is at the end of the month to post something which looks back over all 4 sessions with a quasi-critical eye.)

But the ‘me’ time meant I could play with lots of ideas. I chose about twenty books in under five minutes just grabbing things off shelves that ‘spoke’ to me (apologies to the librarians who had to put them all back the end of the day). Then played a bunch of games based on initially, over half the covers; but eventually my interest whittled down to three or four I really liked. I have a number of pomes either in first draft or partial draft stage at least a couple of which will be fleshed out further for my performance in week 4.

So I had a solid selection to choose from today is what I’m saying. This is the one I chose:

woods: lovely, dark & deep

deep in the forest
someone has left
a circle of leaves
on the path — 55

leaves large & small
in a perfect circle
carved from silver
gems on black cloth

i don’t know how long
they’ve been like this
wind has not disturbed
them — they remain

like the promise
of a child

leaf circle CROP

NOTE: image is a detail of The Promise of the Child (yes that is where the last lines came from heehee 🙂 very handy it was cos I didn’t know how to end it) by Tom Toner

NOTE 2: I also spoke to Musician in Residence, John Denley (it really is a very cool library) & he’s writing three songs as part of his time there … so next week, myself & any interested participants might find themselves contributing lyric ideas to John 🙂 Cross-Pollination, yeah baby!

Day 12 – The Art of the Tale

I have been reading a few  fairy tales most recently Scandinavian ones from East of the Sun and West of the Moon: Old Tales from the North (1914). This edition is gloriously illustrated by Kay Nielsen.

Today’s poem is breaking more than one of my self-imposed ‘rules’ – 1) it is not a cover image & 2) more than one illustration has inspired it. But given the rules are mine, I figure I can change em as I see fit.

fairy tale

she is the girl who understands
what the birds say when they sing
& if she has bad dreams, pretty birds
snatch them from her & fly away

she is the girl who can move
the moon with her eyes alone
& if her soul feels empty
stars come in close to comfort

she is the girl who dances with fairies
under leaves of endless autumn
& if her true love ever breaks her heart
they will torment him till his grave

she is the girl i loved & lost
once upon a time, long long ago

mooneyes

NOTE: image is a detail of she could not help setting the door a little ajar, just to peep in, when — Pop! out flew the Moon (pg 67) from East of the Sun and West of the Moon illustrated by Kay Nielsen (1914)

Day 11 – In the forest

Not  a poetry book today. I was taken by the cover of A. S. Byatt’s Little Black Book of Stories which I am reading on & off as the mood takes me. It took me today & I went, hmmm…

the trees delusion

a red carpet of leaves
leads into the forest
bright path into
darkness — above
my head either mist
or smoke or both

all those roads begun
but never completed
years of wandering
lost while everyone else
is getting where they
think they want to go

one day my less travelled
will pay off … one day

forest CROP

NOTE: today’s cover work of art is Forest Palace, Jóhannes S. Kjarval (1918)

Day 10 – Celestial Motions

Today was always going to be about this topic, given it is 4 months since one of my best mates died. I’ve tried half a dozen times to write about this loss (as well as other recent & ongoing ones) without much success. This comes closest so far …

nebula

& so . in a way . we all die young .
younger than we’d like . even if
we live to a hundred and twenty .
younger than our loved ones want
too . too long lost . in that aching
chasm . that distance between
stars that is all that’s left . when
there is nothing of you . left . except
a wisp . a tear . an echo of laughter .
a hair . a sigh . a gasp . a stifled
sob . an aimless wandering from
room to room . trying to remember
where you are . where you went . & why

cone CROP

NOTE: cover is from Tracy K. Smith’s lovely collection, Life on Mars. It is imaginatively titled: ‘Cone Nebula Close Up’ (I think in part because it is a Close Up of the Cone Nebula).

NOTE 2: I know ‘technically’ this poem may not really Ekphrastic in the strictest sense of the word, but is definitely an emotional response to the image.