Sunday, May 01, 2016

Day 30 of 30 - You Came Home Suddenly

Day 30 of 30 Use titles from a poetry book and the last lines of poems to write a poem. Use two books from two different authors. It's not important to use the titles or sentences completely. Also try to write a longer poem with longer lines.

To be honest it took about two days to wrap this one up. And you can see that I didn't use all the titles and sentences. It could do with some work especially at the end.

Titles of poems taken from Nic Sebastian's Forever Will End on Thursday:
we were ten, place of happiness, song of youth, the night dancers, of thirst and decay, what is broken,
the jungle and bungalow, you never thought, This is the box I leave it to you, she came home suddenly, April, the brimstone butterfly, homecoming

Last lines taken from Gerard Smyth's A New Tenancy:
The black raincloud is like a mascara stain, snow on the eyelids is the ash of the wind, the first day of the world, you are close enough to hear the black kettle singing

You Came Home Suddenly
When we were ten you said,
"This is the box I leave it to you."
I never thought you could fill it with so much
You filled it to the brim with our lives
with belts and buttons. Books and binders.
Microphones and wires, found keys,
a comb with your hair stuck in its teeth.
But you said there were some things that could not fit
like the guitar glued to the corner with your music
Drumsticks that found their way into drawers and wardrobes
Surfboards, amplifiers, a MIDI keyboard hidden under the bed.
In your room shadows pinned to the walls like pictures
And around the house stray plectrums scurried like beetles.
Then one summer a black raincloud
hovered over our house like a mascara stain
And we sealed up the windows and doors 
so bees could not get into the house but bees got in our breath
and in our lungs, and into our cups and cupboards.
And the news of your homecoming spread unsettling the starlings
and upsetting the brimstone butterflies out in your garden.
That night we discovered what snow on our eyelids feels like and what it's
like to sleep in the spare room next to the kitchen
close enough to hear the kettle singing. 

Friday, April 29, 2016

Day 29 of 30 A Terrible Poem

Day 29 This month there are lot of prompts about finding words or phrases that stand out to the reader. I decided to go against this and find some terrible writing.  I came across this excellent bit of literature yesterday and decided to turn it into a Verbatim poem. A Verbatim poem is when you keep the text you just add a poetic structure. I like the way the words are laid out on the cover. I'll let you decide if it's poetry. A little warning - it's awful!

The Handshake
The elevator door slid open 
smoothly at the fifth floor.
Eddie Mancuso stood 
in front of him
small, compact, 
dark-eyed, smiling.
'Hello, Kelly,' he said, 
and held out his hand.
Without thinking, 
only his widening eyes
betraying his surprise.
Kelly accepted the grip.
He shook Eddie's hand. 
He felt a faint prick, 
as if he 
had been stung 
by an ant.
He stared down 
with horror at his palm.
A tiny red mark 
glowed there,
where the pin had penetrated 
Kelly felt 
his scrotum shrivel
and his bowels 
heave up...

Day 27 and 28 of 30 - Playing with Words

Day 27 and 28 I played with words and visualised them. A bit of fun. Nothing serious. Here are some pics from my notebook. You might spot more words and letter combinations than I did.  

Day 25 and 26 - Found Poetry

Found in the the Sunday Times Magazine. The first poem taken from AA Gill's article titled Table Talk and the other one Damian Barr's article - Barr Fly. Looking back at it now I would change a few things like getting rid of the name Grace. I'd also loose the repetition of "you know."

She's as Warm as a Hug
Soft, like earth and grass 
and licked copper
A negligée, not a shroud
You know, you know
the sweet comes 
like a mouthful 
of remembrance
this bittersweet, mothering
The desperate desire 
of a temporary stop
A brief cold moment
into that collective home

Fresh and Delicate
Everyone knows
She's right
an exotic fresh pink skin
most of the glasses are empty
That's what I love about Grace
a well-structured teasing smokiness
A geisha
a warm hint of promise,
The sun is rising. 

Mini Poems:

It looks ghostly,
solid stone

light and bright,
with bite
great to crunch

delicate flavours sing
lemon blossom,
freshly baked

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Day 24 of 30 Random Wikipedia Articles

Day 24 is a prompt from impromptuThe poem consists of 10 lines total, in a 3-3-3-1 stanza distribution words taken from ten random wikipedia articles. Each line is 9 syllables long. No meter is required. I've included the words and the links to the articles.

For Keith Price
There is a house it is a cabin
we use it as a means to migrate
at intervals, the chain becomes whole.

There is a seabed, we reserve it
an ocean to float into the blue,
a search and swim under water-light.

This is a place we have not yet dreamed
it is history not born, not built
a city where language is borrowed.

We search for tracks to make our way home. 

Day 23 of 30 You are a Noun

Day 23 Make a note of words and language used in class and write something out of that.

Make a Noun 
This is a noun. It is a man. He is a pronoun
Knife is a singular noun. Knives are plural.
Remember the rule. Give the knives to the man
Give him camouflage. Make him move through
the forest. Make him watch a deer through the leaves
Make him think about his life in past simple.
All is quiet. The night falls. You are a noun.

Day 21/22 of 30- Play with Syllables

Got to catch up putting up my poems from my notebooks.

Day 21 Write a four line poem with 5 syllables in each line

Universal Man 
He sat on a bench
inviting a stare
the palm of his hand
a fiery planet.

Day 22. Write a ten line poem with 10 syllables per line. Out of the word jar pick ten words. In the order pulled out of the jar write a word in each line.

Words for the body of the poem: mouth, balloon, fire, clock, cappuccino, pebble, brain, horse, mosquito, web

Two words for the title: comet, mist

A Comet Has Told of You Through the Mist
I have heard it come from the horses mouth
You sent a balloon up to the heavens
Like a Grecian God with hands of fire,
You synced our lungs up to a racing clock.
Cappuccino shared at a monitor
watching the moon turn into a pebble,
while they wired your brain, the time misfiring
they said that we had backed the losing horse.
A mosquito flew in through the window
Our memories spun from a spider's web.

Friday, April 22, 2016

Day 20 of 30 Found in a Cafe

Day 20 of 30. I decided to do some eavesdropping in my local cafe. Found poetry of sorts out of the conversations I heard. The heard conversations is a poem in itself.

This is what I heard:
I have short feet
I kept answering
my mind is somewhere else
You have short term memory
he rang twenty four times in a day
he sent me a massive long line of letters
it doesn't bother us but it bothers you
why are you squishing my feet
I love you so much
that's interesting
a thousand lives over just like that
he needs to stop
I don't scare easily
be careful you might break your head

This is what I wrote from it:

My memories talk to me
traffic non-stop. They are mints
on a pillow. My mind is cold coffee,
it's a bundle of sealed letters. Did I say
thank you to you, a thousand times
a thousand times, I love you?
Or is it me? Have I been making things up?
Have I stored different versions of you in my heart?