Day 24 — the making of a poem: behind the scenes sneak peak

Attended a Gawler Poetry Readings – Poetry at the Pub workshop run by the very talented Heather Taylor-Johnson

It was an excellent workshop … & here I’m going to quote some blurb: Form is an active part of a poem, not just an aesthetic, so the workshop will look at how different forms DO different things within a poem. Which indeed it did. We looked at multiple examples of different poems in different forms doing different things. We discussed what those things might be. We did numerous writing exercises which produced several pomes which we were nice starting points for later play. 

But one exercise was particularly pertinent. Seeking to see if I could use the workshop to generate today’s NaPoWriMoPo Heather asked us to to consider something we were currently dealing with. I chose the unexpected end of a relationship (for those of seven of you who’ve been here all month this will come as no surprise, hahaha).

However in the interest of walking you through some of what we did, somewhat unusally, I’m going to present several versions of the poem (2 drafts and the current ‘final’ version).

Task: to write something super swiftly on the topic (3 minutes). 

& so this. First version.

Draft #1.

[untitled]

Sorry you were not
Brave enough to brace
Yourself against the slow
Flow of obstacles 

Mud & stones & sticks 
Rumbling down the mountain
Brought down by weeks
Of rain & now the deluge 

The sad landslide 
Has wrecked everything 
Washed away whatever
We had tentatively built

Not sure I have the energy
To commence the clean up
Let alone attempt any kind
Of reconstruction efforts

Curiously because this was late in the session I was already thinking about form & for some reason wrote it in quatrains which is not something I’d normally do. But quatrains certainly don’t suit this subject matter.

Aside: when I started the poem I wasn’t actually sure what it was going to be about. I only had the first few words of the first line “Sorry you were not/Brave enough…” When I wrote “brave” I immediately paired it with “brace” (why? they looked nice together) then I had to work out what she was bracing against. “slow/Flow” popped in … & that’s where the landslide imagery came in … & the rest wrote itself. [It’s interesting to keep track of what happens to those words/images through the poem; or I think it is anyway.]

Supplementary task: five minutes to reconsider it in terms of its form considering how altering form might enhance meaning. I couldn’t at first see what to do. Then:

Sorry you were not
      Brave enough to brace
           Yourself against the slow
                  Flow of obstacles 

But if I did that I’d rapidly run out of room. So I reduced it from 5 spaces to 1.

Giving me this:

Landslide/slip

Sorry you were not
 Brave enough to brace
  Yourself against the slow
   Flow of obstacles 

     Mud & stones & sticks 
      Rumbling down the mountain
       Brought down by weeks
        Of rain & now the deluge 

          The sad landslide 
            Has wrecked everything 
             Washed away whatever
               We had tentatively built

Not sure I have the energy
To commence the clean up
Let alone attempt any kind
Of reconstruction efforts

Which still didn’t look right. But maybe was kinda going somewhere. But anyway, formatting it on my iPhone was too hard & besides I was out of time. 

Only when I got home could I play. & after attempting it all lined up on the right hand side of the page. Urrrgh. I ended up with this. Which while not perfect, I quite like.

slippage

so
sorry 
you were 
not resolute 
enough to brace 
your soul to resist 
the detritus torrent
mud & stones & sticks
rumbling down the mount
deluged by weeks of rain — now 
the sad landslide has wrecked everything 
washed away everything we’d tentatively built

not sure if i have the energy to commence clean up
let alone attempt any kind of meaningful reconstruction

Day 16 — the honeymoon is almost over

Northing much needs to be said about today’s poem.

the distance between us 

when you fly over it : really is extreme : but we’re talking : more : than mere geography : more than : dry flood plains : & barren dirt : for despite the multitude : of commonalities : we gleefully discovered : initially : it seems : different :: lifestyles : environments : modes of communication : (one of us : is loquacious : overshares ; one only gives : information : when crowbarred out) : risk-taking : bravery quotients : willingness to dream : desires for happiness : even : love levels itself

: mean :

since this morning : our souls tread softly : on the shells of grey : shrike-thrush eggs : crushing all song

Day 30 – endings (& fairy tales)

30 at_the_end_by_heretyczkaa_d4irx0t.jpg

Toyed with a couple of ideas, none developed very far, when I realised I’d almost written a poem over the past 29 days. Took the titles & laid them out one after the other & they make a kind of sense. Couple of stabs at rearranging lines & adding words to help soften the occasional harsh transitions, but in the end, just went with the order they were produced, unadulterated, in a self-referential, albeit imperfect, found poem.

*****

the end

i.
the present  twilight ; a long ago perfect day ; the speed of light

ii.
the many things we see in the moon  from our flying machines  on an unordinary day

iii.
to repair with gold  failure  deflated ; big top potpourri  white hare

iv.
autumn day  sunday farm sounds  home, less  holy houses  day of birth ; Jubilate Canis (shout out to my dog)

v.
absence  wallows  the wind tree ; game of poems  will never end ; senescence  lest we forget ; game of moans  intertextuality ; last day of holidays  scans  the end

 


 

BONUS POEM: April 30, 2018

Looking back over the bookface, it seems I never actually posted a Day 30 pome last year. WiFi was possibly an issue, but it was also a big travel day. None-the-less, checking my master file it seems there were three pomes drafted that day (or at least, begun) so as a special End-of-Month Bonus … I’m going to share all three (after each gets a wee tidy up).

*****

silver 3

in an outer suburb
of Bad Wildungen
on route to Kassel
where the Grimm Boys
collected, collated
& reconditioned
so many of their tales

a silver 3 heliums
its shiny foil
way to freedom. sadly
tonight someone will
be recelebrating their 1st
rather than their 13th

initially  think it’s a bird
a rook or raven or some other
portentous feathered omen

seek personal symbolism
you can see signs
in anything — so i do

being in Fairy Tale land
naturally i see in
the wayward ballon

the three bears;
the little pigs;
three wishes;

three sons, two who fail,
one who saves everyone;
rules of three everywhere.

& always
always   always
three dead babes

°°°°°

for the trees

i.
being here where they were
has forever altered the way
I’ll read the Household Tales
for now I understand — forest

why so many stories are set there
why so many journeys go through
for there’s forest on every third hill

a forest around every third corner
a forest bordering every third field
& road … & river … & valley

& where it’s not a forest
it’s a grove, or a copse
or even just a stand

no wonder there are
so many woodcutters,
with so much wood to cut

likewise there are so many
kings, queens, princesses & princes
when beyond every forest
may well be a new kingdom

ii.
i also comprehend having
                                            walked in
Hansel & Gretel’s forest
that it’s so much darker,
blacker & gloomier than I could
ever have understood
from the desert’s
                              edge ;

Little Red’s, while
                                ominous
has infinitely more colour
a variegation of verde;

& seeing the virulence
with which things grow here
can well understand how
quickly thorns could over
come
Sleeping Beauty’s castle

°°°°°

Märchenstraße

I believe some of these towns
heard there was a wagon
grabbed their bands
& just jumped on

Cos their connection
to anything Fairy Tale
seems grimly tenuous
(& that’s being generous)

30b forest.JPG

It has begun …

Well, the first poem of (hopefully) 24 has been posted. I have 5 minutes before I need to start the next one.

Last year I had a theme & I posted every poem both here on my blog & again on the official Poetry Marathon page.

This year I am going to respond to the official poetry prompts & see where that takes me. I’m also not going to post every poem here for two reasons.

  1. It takes up too much time, something which gets pretty precious towards the end of the 24 hours.
  2. Some of the poems turned out okay, and even publishing them on a private blog can prevent them from being entered into some comps/submitted to certain journals, so I’d like to keep my options open.

I might occasionally during the mara, if I think any poem has sufficient charm, post a few here to share. But I need to stop waffling the next prompt is due any second & Poem 2 needs to get started …

(Hour 24) 9.30-10.30pm — #37 “A flea in heaven”

#37
fleas in heaven

i hope there’s fleas
in heaven

cos all dogs
have fleas

& if heaven
has no dogs

then heaven
is no place

i want to be

Bingo_card_-_B&W

Well, thank dawg!

That last one was easy (careful, it’s deeper than it looks!) ((It’s not, it’s just an end point, huzzah!!))

The card above got the most number of hits, but no bingos sadly. I got 3 x 3 in a rows overall. A pretty sorry performance by many bingo-ers expectations. But I’m pleased enough. & so to bed … :P.

Day 14 – from a single line, a whole poem grows

One of the lines in this poem has been floating round the journal looking all waif like & forlorn for months. Today another poetic job got struck from the NaPoWriMo to do list. Boom. (For those playing at home, there is a very nice prize to the first person who correctly identifies that original spark line.)

NB the second line of each of the three couplets are meant to be indented, but wordpress ain’t designed for poets…  NB2 wahoo! they now are (I have worked out a trick – using an em dash & turning it white 🙂 )

*****

drift

it’s easy to ignore gravity’s rubber
band on days like these

the cold has shaken it loose

electron energy seeped into my DNA

gazing up as dozens of leaves
sigh down around me

a pointing sun, signs the way

the breeze follows its own music

i begin to lift
into the endless bluebright sky

*****

Float_Away_by_billyunderscorebwa

Day 9 – this is for you David Jones, word

If only we were able to make all our decisions based on hindsight …

*****

change

i can change
i can change
i can change

the desperate lover’s litany
when they finally
realise

& all the things
they’ve been
promising

but haven’t
have built up
to the point of

too late
this really is
the end

we probably can
even if it’s usually
years too late

*****

caterpillar_by_optimalprotocol-d1cppvm