We’re not quite at the end of the third week of #postitenotepoetry, but we are at the end of this calendar week and on that basis I have permission to do a week in review.
It was a week that saw poetry scribed by others, solage become the form du jour, poems of all ilks rolled out to observe Valentines Day, social issues raised, discussions on frivolity swirl and more folk join the Facebook Group (now boasting 58 contributors with the core group from the beginning still going strong).
My picks for the week are:
~ Sean Wright’s “Expectant”
~ Adam Byatt’s “The Runner”
~ S.G. Larner
~ Paula Bevan
~ Rob Cook “An Optimist’s Valentine”
Maria Kelly’s “Swimming”
~ Patty Beecham
~ Jo McClelland
~ Kelly Erickson
~ Lisa Leo’s “Halfway Homeless”… scribed by yours truly.
Tuesday’s poem Inops contained the line “cell without a key” which many people liked, so after another gruelling day decided to sit down and riff on the theme of a cell without a key.
This is my first (and possibly only, given I think I may have peaked early) solage. Inspired by Janette Dalgliesh’s poem over the weekend.
Cameron Semmens describes solage as: a very short poem that has two small lines that rhyme and ends with a single word. His PDF not only walks you through how to write but offers some great examples. It was this poem of Cameron’s that inspired mine:
How do I get there?
And what will I wear?
– a dress
Janette adds that the end should come with a twist, and points out mine has the twist in the pun! Accidentally compliant, is all I shall say.
More solage’s offered up today on the #postitenotepoetry group…
~ Janette Dalgliesh
~ Paula Beavan
~ Rob Cook
~ Jo McClelland
Because it is Valentines Day and because I already had a stock of poems and because I couldn’t see myself actually writing anything suitable for the day and because I started composing little rhyming couplets in the car this morning… because of all of this you get a double helping of #postitnotepoetry today. No apologies for the bitter after taste!
Part One – 1992
A prawn cocktail entree
Before they made me sick
A fancy meal for two
Before you were a prick
Part Two – 1995
Ate a block of Cadbury’s
Drank a bottle of wine
In an alco-choc coma
Was alone in bed by nine
Part Three – 1999
An unexpected V-Day gift
A watch of pretty silver links
It doesn’t change a thing for me
Abusive behaviour stinks you see.
Yesterday was one of those days where you could believe Summer had been swallowed by Autumn and was headed straight for winter. The sun is out, bright and large this morning. Yesterday just a blip in the seasonal roll out.
Today you get two poems for the price of one visit. Lisa Leo and I have swapped poems and scribed and photographed for each other. Please enjoy Lisa’s “Halfway Homeless” and my “Weave of Sorrow”.
Not the best of days today. I’m a bit fed up with being dragged through the gravel of life, with tiny pauses to lick the wounds and move on, waiting for the next square inches of skin to be torn off.
At least we’re learning as we go and that is something: Mr D to articulate how he feels, me to know there is no logical persuading him out of his anxiety. There is no point in fighting it or punishing him for the way he feels.
I’m learning to be able to sit and hold the space for the two of us… but it’s not easy.
The frustration erodes the best intentions of maintaining a safe and supportive environment. But I keep hanging in there.
This morning was hard. I just wanted some help but the school world was too busy to stop. So I sat and cried quietly, sitting on a green chair in the office and looking at the world beyond through the half drawn vertical blinds.