Tag Archives: sadness

Day 08 – field + 3-in-1

Seems like there’s a few mushroom memory poems in me trying to make their way out. So we’d best let them. It is an interesting corollary of creative activity that once you start down a certain pathway of thinking/exploration, more & more bubbles to the surface, including things you may not have thought about in decades or even remember you remembered.

WARNING: The Factoid is a pretty shocking and revelatory reveal that will quite possibly BLOW your mind.

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field mushrooms
Agaricus multitudinous 

one of my favourite memories 
as a child was wandering 
the wet grassed dew paddocks
                  in my wellies 

& finding huge white beauties 
with chocolate brown gills 
smelling of earth & muddy fertility 
                  some the size of plates

talking with my parents
several days ago we agreed
don’t see as many as we used to 
                  anecdotally at least 

back then the adventure 
was the finding not the eating 
some things stay the same
                  but others change drastically 

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Day 08 Factoid – Not all mushrooms taste the same

the unusual instance of 3 mushrooms in 1
Agaricus bisporus

1. Button
entirely white
baby blobs of bland
reason for near universal popularity
             unknown

2. Cremini 
brown capped 
no visible gills
firmer texture  
             difficult to source in Oz

3. Portobello
large rugged roofed
flat brown caps 
& visible gills
             at last looking like a proper mushy

4. Revelation
all these mushrooms are the same
the minor difference is age
the major difference is taste
             (you’re welcome)

Day 07 – foraging + edibility

Lovely walks past & present. [Note: photo is one of mine, taken on just such a walk.]

The Factoid Poem addresses the very real & pressing question: what mushrooms can you eat?

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foraging seasons

i.
some substantial rain & 
the passing of the March equinox 
heralds the coming season

magic is starting among the trees
but we’re all waiting
on a little more water first

to engage in our adult version
of an Easter egg hunt — the long 
range forecast delivered news

no one wanted — a dry winter
followed by another dry summer 
La Niña’s kaput  El Niño’s back baby

ii.
Chester & i enjoyed wandering 
among the pines on dank damp 
drizzling delightful delicious days 

he loved smelling every new spore
before dashing off to the next adventure 
leaving me to identify (if i could)

& artfully photograph the most alluring 
sometimes wished i could have trained 
him to seek out truffles (or similar)

but he found his enjoyment 
in his own way & that was enough 
(more than enough)            for me

*****

Day 07 Factoid – All mushrooms are edible

Edible

don’t listen to what
the naysayers neigh

you can eat any 
mushroom you like

whether you wish to keep
living is another matter

altogether

Day 06 — impressions + interstellars

This one has been building for many days. In an ideal world, perhaps it should have been the first poem of the month. But it’s not. What ya gonna do about it? It’s here now. & it’s okay.

The Poetic Factoid has the potential to be revisited in a bigger poem later on as there’s lots of interesting things about that particular topic.

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first impressions

when i think of mushrooms : it’s almost always something primal : something primitivistic : something pagan : something archetypal : something out of the dim distant past : something older than dinosaurs : something ancient & eternal : more chthonic than Cthulhu : yet still something otherworldly : something Lovecraftian : something neverending : something overpowering : something from Ovid’s Metamorphosis : constantly transforming

primordial : growing among the decay : the rot : the hummus holes of homes : the wet humble detritus of life : in a forest : in a cave : somewhere dark : somewhere dank : somewhere quiet : somewhere eternal : somewhere enchanted intertwined entangled beguiled 

yet for all this : passionate : active : evocative : working hard to make the world better : to restore : to regenerate : to rejuvenate 

to con : tinue on

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Day 06 Factoid — Space fungi are badassess

star spores

7 years ago a number of unoffending fungi were deliberately 
attached to the hull of the ISS by malicious scientists

exposing them to a year of space’s malevolent triple threat
cosmic radiation  complete vacuum  & Kelvin-level temps

despite the deep freeze many both survived the ordeal 
& were capable of reproducing themselves afterwards

hinting at the possibility fungi
                             could well be excellent interstellar explorers

Day 05 – the tomb shroom + maybe manna

FOG Day 1 of 2. Nothing like getting it out of the way early on. Another Case Study poem, with a slight difference to yesterday’s & probably all that conceivably will follow it. Note: I’m pretty pleased with today’s poem also which means heavy redaction. 

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Case Study: Aboriri gravis
#2: Tomb Dweller

[please click to enlarge image]

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Factoid Day 05 – TIL I learnt about potential biblical fungi

manna mania

that the bible does not 
mention mushrooms once 
says everything i need to know

yet some cheeky scholars suggest 
the small round things that appear after morning 
dew — are psilocybin mushrooms

Day 08 – why read + empathy

Today’s poem is an attempt at answering a question I get asked often (or variations thereof) — why do you read so much?  It’s a tough one because it seems pretty self-evident to me … but over the years I’ve jotted down various reasons & this poem attempts to pull them together into a cohesive form. It’s possibly still too long & requires an edit. I’ll see how it looks/feels in a couple of weeks’ time.

The Factoid concerns the correlation between empathy & reading fiction …

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why READ : an inexhaustive list

why do I breath : I mean : seriously 

cos I can’t not : compulsion

it’s : escape & refuge : adventureland & safe space : idyllic pasts & dystopian futures : a chance to ignore the dumpster fire that the world constantly seems like it wants to become : just for a few hours 

to get lost : lose time : time travel : to walk a mile : or warp the space time continuum : cause the real world to cease to exist : lose myself : in the wash & flow : of well told tale 

to let this : always overworked brain : go off leash
to glean answers for questions : I didn’t even know : I needed to ask
to explore the beauty : & darkness of humanity : to share a sacred indulgence
to understand myself : others : the world : to heal the wounds : to fill the lonely void of the universe’s vastness with a brief flicker of light

to experience : sustenance : catharsis : terror : joy : sadness : triumphs : heartbreaks : tears & sorrows

to share minds with : philosophers two thousand years dead : Caesars : physicists capable of explaining the universe : poets who explain the human heart : saints & sinners : & tanner’s sons from small market towns who change the world

because I can’t live every life I want to
because I can live lives I wouldn’t want to actually experience but enjoy experiencing 
because it’s fun being thrown into other universes : other time periods : other countries : other cities : other world views : other consciousnesses : other POVs : hell it’s even fun just to be thrown across the street : things look rather different from behind their curtains than mine

relax : after long tiring days
rejuvenate : on days when I have to do : nothing 

I love words
I love stories

I like who I am when I read
I like looking through mirrors & into windows 

I’m a loner who enjoys  solitude  silence  stillness : dreaming while awake

because the alternative : isn’t an option

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Day 08 Factoid – Reading fiction increases empathy

walking a mile in someone’s book

countless studies have shown:

folks who read fiction often
     have greater social cognition (work out what people think & feel)
     are better at measuring interpersonal sensitivity
     are more likely to help 
     can identify, understand, & share in someone else’s feelings
     behave more altruistically
     result in better doctors

so, to repeat 
     reading fiction is empathy-building
     so stop farking about here 
     go read a goddamn novel 
     & become a better person
     you numpty
                             (or words to that effect)

Day 28 – white magick cleansing 

A more playful poem than some this month, because after all, I do still have my sense of humour.

 

 

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deep cleansing the past month

week 1: a necessary exorcise of Her

my friend Charlotte convinced
that to provide clarity & clear 
the psychic air around me i must 
exorcise Her negative energy
from my  home  head  &  heart 

together we assemble two strands 
of black hair & one of henna;
a handwritten letter; & the sole gift
i ever got (a clue in itself she whispers) 
a copy of Her favourite book

i must burn them at midnight 
of a new moon ie tonight
i’m tired i tell her & it’s cold out
she’s long gone when i sacrifice 
Her meagre possessions to flame

— it makes no difference 

.

week 2: Spell for Aura and Energy Flow

disappointed but not deterred
Charlotte has lent me her
White Spells for Modern Wiccans
with multiple pages marked

turning to the first post-it note
her neat handwriting declares: this spell
is perfect for purifying one’s aura 
or the energy flow between two people

things i need

bundle dry sage
“loaded” white candle
a feather (purified)
photo of each of us

having none of these items
Charlotte swiftly visits 
& watches as i perform
the spell under her steely gaze

   i. put candle & sage
   on a silver platter
   with the two photos

   ii. light candle
   burn sage carefully
   creating smokeless smoke

   iii. with the feather 
   sweep smoke towards
   the outside of the house

— it makes no difference 

.

 

week 3: Enchantment to ward negative energy from the home

on a waning moon day
peel & quarter an onion
form in a cross on a white plate 
in front of a brown candle
light the candle, chanting

   Creature of fire 
   Bringer of tears 
   Hear my desire 
   Banish my fears 

   Power of three 
   Set this home free
   Cleanse it today
   Long may it stay

travelling counterclockwise
walk through the house

saucer in left hand, candle in right
turn three times clockwise in every room

leave the onion & candle in the kitchen 
until it’s completely burnt down

then throw the wax on your lawn
& bury the onion far from home

— it makes no difference 


.

week 4: spell of my own devising

go into the garden
pluck five sprigs of fresh mint
return inside
heat some water
(from the tap is fine)

tear the leaves 
from the stalks
& drop in a mug
pour hot water over
breathe in deeply

pop your patio chair 
in a patch of warm 
autumn sunshine 
but take a rug too 
cos there are clouds above

sigh loudly after sipping
open the given book
(course i didn’t burn it
i’m no monster)
lose yourself in reading

— it doesn’t fix everything 
but it makes a small difference 

Day 27 — 2 weeks ago today

This was written yesterday after a long day. First my regular Wednesday shift. Then working on a member of Film Club’s short film script for 2 hours in the afternoon, then 2 hours mentoring a local poet on a dozen poems from a collection she’s trying to work up into submission quality for chapbook-style competitions. 

After writing it, I said I’ll just lie on my bed for a second to rest before I come back to set it up/post it on my website. Bwahahahaa. FLW. Of course I was asleep. Before 9pm for goodness sake. When I woke again at 1am I made the executive decision that it could wait till I upload tomorrow’s poem. 

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how i spent my last day with you

spent all morning
watching that door
waiting for you 
to descend those stairs
cavort over here
& tell me that somehow 
despite all the odds
you do, yes indeed, do
in fact love me 

promise myself
i’ll go inside 
in a bit

after this shower passes
perhaps 

then inside 

it’ll be dark soon

Day 19 — you say you don’t like sweet things

A quick & tasty poem after a long first day back at work after my sick weekend. (It’s one thing to flesh up a poem over the course of several hours, then tweak polish & post it before climbing back into bed — it’s another thing altogether to craft one late at night after working two long shifts.) Despite that, I’m pleased with this one too.


cocos vox

if voices 
were biscuits 
yours would be

freshly-baked
Monte Carlos
with homemade
raspberry jam
& cream centres
if we’ve spoken
that day

— but more like
my grandmother’s
special recipe dark
chocolate biscuits 
dipped in even 
darker chocolate 
with mint on top 

if i haven’t heard it
in too long a time

Day 18 — promises unkept

Pretty self-explanatory.

fireflies 

all the things 
we said we’d do

long slow trips round
oz’s wide open roads 

revisit our favourite corners
of hobbit-country : discover new ones

christmas in talinn
a cabin under the aurora

form our own theatre 
company crisscross our plays 

round the country
take on : the world 

tell more of our stories
to each other

perhaps possibly perchance
find peace

but i didn’t even get to see : the fireflies 
down the bottom of your back yard 

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

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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