The poet's prayer

Or, felt like being romantic and I was bored, so ... well, there you are.

Oh wind
great gale from the north
with your icy fingers lift
me up and hurl me
into the midst of the winter
whence the spring of inspiration comes.

Raise me through the falling leaves of hopelessness
to the snows of night to sleep

mayhap to dream
of the movement of spring branches
the lark
the kestrel
or apples in an orchard.

Set me down on the frozen ground
your cold searing through my veins
through every bone and muscle
and let me lie there
frozen and lifeless until

the sun
of the morning
of the year brings me
to a new height of clarity

a peak of inspired extasy.

Or failing that
let me have an idea soon
because this
is a load
of ...

Reading matter

I haven't posted anything here for a while, so thought I'd dig something out of my fairly recent efforts. This is a poem that came out of a reading exercise I found on the net. The exercise said to try to make a poem out of some book titles you have on your shelves. This is my attempt.


Reading Matter.
(Found poetry).

You can teach yourself
piano by ear
if you have
the time and materials.

You don't need a spirit level
to balance
new poetry
with jazz sketches.

All it takes is for you
to know the game.


SJC

Contentment

I spotted a small mistake in this poem, in the stanza about the cars, so have amended it. This is the updated version. I've changed 'only half the fun' to 'at least half the fun', the updated version making more sense.

Contentment.

A gentle sun warms the air
so that stepping outside
is like crawling
under the softest woolen blanket
after a late-night shower.

The birds, resting in the trees
tweet what sounds like
the occasional greeting
to one another--
hunting can wait till later.

The cars on the street outside
sound as though getting to their destination
is at least half the fun.

The cat, having finished her lunch
trots into the bedroom
and with a light leap onto the bed
settles down for her afternoon nap.

I could stand a month
of these Sundays.



SJC

Night Time

Out the back door, the birds
are fast asleep in their nests
A car whispers by
on the street out front.
I stand in my kitchen
savouring the last cup of Earl Grey
I'll have, till morning
the aroma  of my evening meal tempting me
to open the fridge one more time.

I walk out of the room
looking forward to the time
when morning will grasp the volume control
and turn it back up.


SJC

Impressions

Can't decide what to do with this poem, so thought I'd post it here. I'd love to know what you think of this--is it too private a poem? Does it need more, less? Anything else you'd like to tell me about it. Here it is, anyway.


Impressions.

When I was a child
I sat at the kitchen table
after breakfast
Pressing moulds
into play dough
the moulds
ceramic to the touch
carved
so that they'd leave a raised mark, a portrayal.

I skimmed my fingers
over the raised parts of the dough
were they animals? People?
Buildings? Scenes?
I could feel something
A bunch of raised lines and squiggles
but nothing I recognized...


After we pressed ourselves in to each other
your lips on my lips
your body on my body
your hand in my hand
leaving impressions
I wondered
if you thought you could read
the impressions, too.
Maybe, at first, you were just as in awe of them
as I was
and just as mistaken.

Well the dough has been smoothed out again now
rolled into a ball
flattened
and made ready
for the next pressing down
and peeling off.

Paradox

Like the girl who
not afraid of a dragon
didn't like the needle that would prick
sleeping beauty's finger
My grandmother
was no stranger
to paradox.
'I love oranges,' she would say
'but can't stand marmalade.'

She made the most amazing cheese and plain scones, too
firm on the outside, moist on the inside
perfectly ridged, like an enlarged fifty pence piece
ideal for taking
butter and jam.

Afternoon teas were luxurious
when they were involved
after a tuna or salmon sandwich
and with a cup of tea.

You couldn't tell her you liked something though
for years, I couldn't eat
wine gums.


SJC

Meet my cat

In the header of this blog now, is a picture of my kitty, Jamila. Well, more my boss really--I read some time ago that dogs have owners, and cats have staff. She is, as the caption says, laying prone on a counter in our kitchen. I read, some time ago, that cats can be muses so here's hoping that including her here will make it easier to come up with things to write about--I sure could use a hand with such things. Hopefully too, she wont' be too harsh a critic. :D

I'm Published!

This is a huge deal for me in that I never thought I'd ever get any of my stuff accepted anywhere, but it has been! I've just had a poem of mine, Reverse Psychology, published over at Referential Magazine. I'd like to thank everyone over at Referential for a beautifully accessible website, extremely straightforward and well layed-out guidelines, for a pretty damn cool magazine, and of course for accepting my little piece. I'm so encouraged by this it's amazing.

Does fear lurk in your kitchen of enthusiasm?

Here's another article from Shery Russ, the creator of WriteSparks, my favourite writing program available from www.writesparks.com. I now have a random number generator which you can use for this activity. Just change the big number to 5 and click the Generate button and you're off.
Here's Shery:

*****
Whether you write fiction or nonfiction, it's important to write with clarity, not with vagueness. By communicating yourself in concrete, specific images,
you help your readers understand you (and your poem/story).

Today's activity has two parts. You may or may not do the second part, if you'd rather concentrate on the first part. Don't skip the first part, though,
because the second activity relies on what you'll be able to concoct in the first.

So crack your knuckles, pull out your keyboard (or sharpen your pencils) and let's begin.

First, pick a number from 1 to 5:

1. cave
2. garden
3. backyard
4. kitchen
5. teacup

Next, you guessed it, pick another number from 1 to 5:

1. joy
2. enthusiasm
3. relief
4. love
5. gratitude

Combine your two choices and you're off! What's your location? In a cave of love? Have you ever found yourself in the kitchen of gratitude? How about finding
relief in a teacup?

Brainstorm and list specific/concrete images for your place. Concrete images can be anything -- fictional, nonfictional, whimsical, philosophical, you
name it. You can come up with a list by asking yourself:

~ What happens in the garden of joy?
~ What's cooking in the kitchen of gratitude?
~ What happens after you drink in a teacup of relief?
~ How is it to be inside the cave of enthusiasm?
~ What things would be happening in the backyard of love?

Brainstorm for at least 5 minutes. Don't worry if the first few images you brainstorm are bland. As your list grows longer, the more interesting your images
will become.

The first part is metaphorical and you'll likely find yourself writing a poem. However, you take your piece where you want to. If at any point in your
brainstorming, you get a story idea, then by all means, pursue it.

Now for the second part. Are you ready? Again, choose any number from 1 to 5:

1. hate
2. guilt
3. pride
4. anxiety
5. fear

Now put the emotion you chose in your location/place. Plop it down, drop it like a bomb, sneak it in, etc. Make this emotion "disrupt" the generally feel-good
ambiance of your place. It's the conflict.

What's pride doing in your backyard of love? Why is fear hanging about in the cave of enthusiasm? What's guilt doing in a teacup of relief? Again, brainstorm
for reasons or for the things this disruptive emotion could cause.

So knock yourself out with this writing activity. If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure there aren't icky wiggling worms of anxiety and fear trying
to make a home in my garden of enthusiasm.


Copyright (c) 2004 Shery Ma Belle Arrieta-Russ


Shery created WriteSparks! - a software that generates over 10
*million* Story Sparkers for Writers. Download WriteSparks! Lite
for fr*e -
http://writesparks.com

Dear book company

This is kinda sorta based on a real event, but embellished and generally blown out of all proportion for the sake of poetry. Enjoy, anyway.

Dear book company.

I am writing to you
well already have
evident by the presence
of my letter
in your intray
to inform you of some changes
I am making
to my subscription payments.

Firstly, commencing from
my next payment date
I will be paying you half
the price of my subscription.

The month after
there will be a further decrease to a quarter
of the original price.

The month after that
I will increase the payment
but only by 10%
this, of course, is to encourage you
to think, wrongly, that I eventually intend to pay
full price soon after.

The following months' payment
will decrease again
by 40%
and thereafter by 10%
until I am finally paying
nothing at all.

These payment reductions
are in line with the changes you have made
to your website
rendering it completely inaccessible
to anyone who doesn't have 20-20 vision.

Thank you
for your understanding.


SJC