Wednesday, 17 June 2015

June poetry days - 15, 16, 17.

Your colour palette glues me to you
Experiment with me and find my truth
My meaning is yours so tangle me
In your hands and catch my glitter

Politicise these curves
Drag me screaming
Your cause is not mine 
Go create your storm
That teacup is calling you

Saturday, 13 June 2015

June days 12, 13 and 14!

Boxes Knife Ineptitude

Ineptitude hides me, boxing me in
Hauls me by my scruff and shakes hard
Stifles my breath and grinds my teeth
Plucks at my skin and leaves a burn
Ruins my hair and makes my face a joke
But the knife slices me free and the box lies empty.

Thursday, 11 June 2015

June poetry days 10, 11 and 12.

Joy Forest Boxes
The box lies on the mat, fat and waiting
It sits, ambivalent and pleased with itself
While you circle it and wonder why
Nothing has been ordered you think
And that suspicion creeps fast towards you
A joke perhaps or something more
Something worthwhile that a forest fell
And is still falling to bring mysterious treats
To a doorstep far away
In the hope of joy awakening

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

June days 8 and 9

There's a haiku here, a sure sign of playing poetry catch up!

Solitude wraps me in a blanket and offers a broad shoulder to cry on

A scaled foot in weed,
The eye, watching you looking.
Blinks and disappears.

Sunday, 7 June 2015

June poetry days 6 and 7 - Sunburn and Sea

The sea carries its sunburn lightly tonight
Dipping beneath the waves to sail the sky
For the waking of the other side of the world

Thursday, 4 June 2015

June poetry days 4 and 5 - behind already!! Indecision and Mindful

The indecision is mine
The consequence yours
I fight my troubled mind
While you argue with yours
If I turn away it is not in hate
I have released you
Accept it

Thinking about
Creator God
The planet
The seas
People all over the world
Everyone in my community
Everyone not in my community
Just everyone
Keep some room for me.

Be kind
Remember others
Try hard
Do your best
Accept the reality of your situation
Be brave

Wednesday, 3 June 2015

Poetry day 3 - Kettle

Polly puts the kettle on when she is fed up.  This is a mistake because as she slams the dented red metal down on the kitchen table, hot water takes its cue and leaps out.  She watches as the scalding stream hisses towards her arm, bare to the elbow and waits for the bite.  She could have moved but she chose not to.  She could have screamed but she chose not to.  The mistress looked on fast movements and loud noises with little enthusiasm although she was four floors up.  When you least expected it, she would make a comment about the running of the house and you would lose your monthly afternoon off.  Polly spends the rest of the morning with a sore arm and worsening temper.  She needs that afternoon off this week.

I decided to try prose today.  It might lead to something.  Or not.

Monday, 1 June 2015

June poetry day 2 - studio

 I've never been a dancer but this is how I imagine it might feel.

the studio is hot and dark there but light right here
on go the lamps - bang - and the scene is real
feet scratch the surface padding powder puffs
trailing damp as a sign that we are at work
music pounds a beat within though there
is silence without
movement is swift, contorted, full of painful lust
the twists, the curves and stretch
more and give more and keep giving

breathe now and smile. 
you live this.
show them.

Sunday, 31 May 2015

June poetry day 1 Heartburn

My heart burns for you,
A twisting thing of sweetness.
But bitter tendrils lash at the edges
Of my dreams and nightmares,
While you look away
And away,
Before that pretty acknowledgement
With the knowing nod and squeeze,
Leaving fleshy seeds scattered
Like the split pomegranate lying beneath its tree.

This is the first of a month of writing exercises to get the flow starting...

Sunday, 24 May 2015

Long time coming...

So I don't appear to have posted in a long while.  So much has happened!  Okay, well the new Star Wars film has its second trailer and a name.  Counting down to December the 18th when The Force Awakens.  Please don't let me down, J.J!!  Maria and I ( have had sort of fun writing a two handed short story where we had to write 100 words each per day and keep it coherent.  It almost worked!  It was fun though.  Collaborative stuff always is.  I didn't post any of that up here, not sure why.  I've got some inspiration to write something, anything once a week - just to round up what I have been doing and give myself an aerial view of my life.  In the meantime though, there is a holiday to take, an assignment to finish and a new job to find.  I will get on that soon.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Poetry - the final day

This January's series of poetry writing tasks has been fun.  I managed to work on a few new forms which I haven't been able to in the past and kept to one subject throughout; dementia.  Again, this is something I haven't done before.  As always, I should spend more time revising and editing my ideas but as usual, the time has just slipped away.  Next time...

Soar high, up so high
Run free forever,
Choose your path – you can travel them all

Travel them all, take your time
All time is yours now
Breathe deeply, throw leaves in the air

Crisp leaves are airbourne, breathe the world in
Where will you go?
Meet friends, embrace your family

Your family is waiting for you
Go towards them, you are safe
Be at peace now, all confusion is gone.

Thursday, 29 January 2015

Poetry penultimate day!

Dawn breaks
Announcing itself proudly
While sweeping away the dark
Birds trumpet the arrival
The air snaps with possibility
Colours spread across the sky
The energy of a new day crackles

Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Poetry day 28

Once you staggered towards me with a milk bottle in your hand,  determined to close the space between us that shoved you further from me with each passing second. 
I thought of milk at school, passed round at break times – glass bottles and thin striped straw stuck through the gleaming silver top.
I thought of mother’s milk, nurturing and necessary to grow that tiny baby into a real person with thoughts, dreams, desires of their own.
I could never know what you were thinking right then, I imagine you could not have told me either,
as you stared through me, hated me and tried to glass me.
Dementia is cruel.

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

Poetry day 28

Dreams and promises set free to roam,
Pick their way carefully through confusion,
Treachery stalks that kind intention,
When it was simple, it was unadorned,
Gazing clearly out from excited eyes,
All was possible and you knew it,
Set yourself free to fly while you can.

Monday, 26 January 2015

Poetry day 27

People thought they could control me
They fought hard to contain me
I bit harder and won
You do not stop what is not yours
I am here, there and everywhere
Before you, above you and behind you
I lead you.  Remember that.

Sunday, 25 January 2015

Poetry day day 25 - two poems to catch up!

 Okay, so it is one poem with the two words combined.  Cheating!

Immaculate Universe
I could hold that immacuate universe of yours in my hand if I chose.  Keep everything special held tight where nothing falls out.  I would feel that shifting weight of knowledge bursting against my fingers but I would not let go.  Rainbows would form and galaxies collide.  I might be begged to give up all the secrets I held close.  I would resist.  Keeping guard of perfection is tiring but it would be an honor.  If you gave me the chance to be it all.

Thursday, 22 January 2015

Poetry day 23

The Mad Hatter dances circles
Coming closer, moving away
He makes you laugh
Whispering in your ear
sweet secrets that make you glad
You know everything
They know nothing
Stay silent and keep the truth inside.

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Day 22

Mistakes will be made
The results may fade
She is told
She feels old
It should be understood
They know you never would
Want to hurt and pain
Unravel like a train
Twisting on the line

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

Poetry day 21

Take a walk around the museum, why don’t you?
Look over there, that’s your first holiday in Spain,
Remember the photograph?
Short bobbed hair, shorter skirt - but it was the sixties,
There’s a drink in your hand,
And you’re sat on a boy’s lap whose name you couldn’t recall,
You are young and happy.
Look this way, it’s snowing in the back garden,
Your daughter is there in a white fluffy coat,
She looks like a tiny snowball,
You are a mother.
And just over here,
You’re in Thailand,
And there, at a party sat looking bored at a table,
You came home with an orchid trapped in a plastic case,
On a beach wrapped in a towel with two freezing children,
Playing with the kittens; dragging a piece of string for them,
Sat in the garden with a cup of tea and a biscuit,
You are you.

Monday, 19 January 2015

Facebook and I are on a break...

I love Facebook.  It took me a while to get into it but since 2007 it has been a part of my daily life.  Recently though, I began to realise that I was spending a lot of time just wandering around my news feed, randomly liking things that friends had posted and generally not using my time very productively. Facebook has enabled me to reconnect with people I haven't seen in thirty years (I can't believe I am old enough to not have seen someone for thirty years.  That's shocking, especially when I still don't feel any different to when I was thirteen).  It has allowed me to share information and keep in touch with friends and family who, for whatever reason, I don't get to see that often nowadays.  It has also given me the opportunity to share everyday stuff with people who, if I didn't post status updates about what I'm doing or put photos up, would miss out on what we as a family are busy doing.
There are two reasons that I have fallen a little out of love with the site over the past however long.  The first is that I began, just subconsciously at first, but then more overtly, to question why I felt the need to be sharing so much with other people.  Shouldn't it be enough to be having a good time with my family and for the occasion to be just that?  Why do I feel the need to post 'as it is happening' photos up for friends and family to see; look, we are at the park; look, here we are at the cinema; hey, check us out, we are doing something else fun that you aren't.  I began to feel pretty uncomfortable with the reasons behind my need to share.  Was it that I felt my life was so great, I had to shout it from the roof tops?  Or is it that I feel I am missing out on something and need to let other people know that, no, look, I'm having a fantastic time too?  This new year, I am trying to put some Mindfulness into practice and constantly thinking about what other people would like to see and how my need to share my experiences with other people, is a sure fire way to get a person right out 'of the moment' and end up with a photo of an experience that wasn't properly fulfilling while it was actually taking place.  So, I decided that I needed a break and if I couldn't make myself stop browsing the site so often during the day, I would have to create a complete break.  Cold turkey if you will.
The other reason was that I was becoming frustrated with what was being posted.  There were articles and most especially, video content which friends were posting, that I found offensive and short of 'unfriending' the person, I couldn't stop this stuff appearing - yes, I realise I don't need to look at it but when videos play as I'm scrolling down, there isn't a great deal I can do about it other than move on past rubbish clogging up my page.  Responding to friends' pictures or comments on innocuous subjects - one on a picture of a clown and one on an article about disused fairground rides (I know, sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?) meant that I got into stupid and annoying 'dialogues' (if they can even be called that) with people I didn't know, who had commented negatively on my post (not to them, to the person who was actually was my 'friend') and whom I then felt I had to defend myself to.  It was wasting my time, these people didn't care what I thought and honestly, I don't know what I hoped to achieve.  The result was that I got annoyed and thought that the nonsense had to stop.
I'm hoping that after '99 days of freedom', I will be in better control of my need to share with all and sundry and able to enjoy the positive aspects of Facebook without getting sucked into all the rubbish, mundane detritus that comes with it.

Poetry day 19

 As always happens with these poetry months, I'm getting behind so cheating by writing shorter poems and putting more of the key words in each one.  Still enjoyable though and a great way to look at the heft a particular word brings with it.

Misery, bridge, collector
Your dream collector
Sees you on the bridge and sends
Misery your way

Poetry day 20

Your personality changes
And you are in disguise
An unwelcome coat hangs by the door
That nasty wig hides your hair
Who is this?
Get out now.

Thursday, 15 January 2015

Poetry day 16

I keep, for your sake, the things that mattered
That scarf, the little black hat for cold days
The heavy, wide coat that swirled when you turned
And a dress that is too narrow for me
But you loved it which means it matters now.

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

Poetry day 15

The bare earth shelters those fragile seeds
She pats them in, waters them, keeps them safe
Warm sun, fresh rain and long days of magic
Turn those brown dots into determined shoots
Pushing their way towards a bigger world
Beneath her tender care, life has flourished.

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Poetry day 14

Paper thin wrinkles
Pale, freckles in sun
Keeping you inside

Monday, 12 January 2015

Poetry day 13 - and the poems get shorter!

Heart swiftly departs
My fingers outstretched in vain
It’s gone in a blink

Sunday, 11 January 2015

Poetry day 12 - 2 poems!

Bones – a villanelle
Grass blankets your bones lying still
Where is the peace in this new sight?
But bright sun shines upon the hill

I wonder why this is His will
Is this the result of some might?
Grass blankets your bones lying still

Your leaving is a bitter pill
Though you left for a greater light
But bright sun shines upon the hill

Air grows cold but for you no chill
You wait in peace for stalking night
Grass blankets your bones lying still

Of life you never had your fill
You did not know you had to fight
But bright sun shines upon the hill

My thoughts of you survive the kill
It is not fair, it is not right
Grass blankets your bones lying still
But bright sun shines upon the hill

You move in a wave
Destruction follows
You delight in it

Poetry day 10

Are you here to impress me with your words?
Do you seek to lie to me once again?
I do not know who you are any more,
Although your voice is one I think I know,
There is a familiarity there,
I cannot explain but it makes me safe
I think, to have you near me when I fail.
Your voice tells me you love me.  I believe
On those days my mind does not trick me,
But those days are less now and you stranger
I know, look at me with fear and sadness
For what must come next.  For what must come next.

Thursday, 8 January 2015

Poetry day 9


Wednesday, 7 January 2015

Poetry day 8

Light bulb
Once a shimmer gleamed
And you laughed at your choices
Over time they froze
And you had no choices left
The shimmer tarnished and died

Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Poetry day 7

Today it is time to try the cinquain form, while still following the theme of dementia. I think the simplicity and repetition work quite well.

That word
That word, that word
On the tip of your tongue
Chasing it, trying to know it
That word.

Monday, 5 January 2015

Poetry day 6

After playing around with the sestet form yesterday, which i very much enjoyed and was quite pleased with the first result, here I am experimenting with the terza rima form.  I am less pleased with this although on paper, the structure looks 'easier' to work with.  I think this rhyme scheme diminishes what I was trying to do as it is clunky and appears forced.  However, this is all about trying and learning through failing and for that reason it stays!

An engineer created your mind
He tinkered with your soul
But then it all began to unwind

You were once whole
Until fate or genes called the shots
And you were handed a new role

That wonderful mind turned to knots
Easier to bear once you ceased to know
And stopped worrying about everyone’s plots

That life force used to glow
And I missed it when it was gone
Your laughter stopped its flow

When you had forgotten where you were from
While your memory imploded like a bomb.

Sunday, 4 January 2015

Poetry day 5

Trying a haiku...
I thought I heard a
pigeon flapping, but it was
just your mind leaving.

Poetry day 4

This is the sestina! I haven't written many of these and I'm quite pleased with bits of this although it isn't nearly as clever as the examples I read before trying my own.  Definitely something that needs more practice.

Watch him, he’s quick
That thought there, hiding out
Behind your memory,
Something that you can’t quite remember,
You grasp but then he’s gone
Fast and slippery, into the dark.

Look steadily into the dark,
And if your mind is quick
You might catch that one before he’s gone,
Wait for him and catch him out
While you can still remember,
Before he reshakes your memory

You never admired that memory
Until it began to creep into the dark
And then you couldn’t remember,
It all went so unfairly quick,
You tried for a while to figure it out
But by then it had already gone

Your thoughts had packed up and gone,
It played a cruel trick, that memory
Not letting you know in advance that it was going out,
Not telling you it wouldn’t be back before dark,
And you used to be so quick,
Do you remember?

No, you cannot remember
And your tears are all gone,
They did not stop so quick
And are here in my memory,
While our sun left us all in the dark
As all your lights went out.

And now your spirit is out
And I cannot remember,
I don’t want you to be in the dark,
You didn’t want to be gone,
I want more than a memory,
The good bits brown and faded so quick.

You were out of my life before you had gone,
But trying to remember your memory
Makes the dark leave more quick.

Saturday, 3 January 2015

Poetry day 3

I'm keeping with the cheerful theme of dementia still and writing in blank verse to try and keep a sense of regularity while the words suggest dissonance.  At least that's the idea!

Autumn brings straw and with it ends summer
Gold spears cut down leaving their jewels behind
Waiting for collection, wanting harvest
Those jewels seeping slowly run through fingers
Life giving bright sunshine contained within
The grains bounce onto the floor with a swish
She stands and watches, looks but doesn’t see
Her harvest gone, cold winter comes grasping
Fast and unkind tendrils stripping her soul
Her light fades as she becomes hollowed out.