Inspiration

Our camellia started to bloom in February this year, earlier than normal, fooled by the unseasonably mild weather at the time, probably. The ferociously cold winds and rain that followed killed every bloom. And the leaves. There was nothing we could do. It now looks like an antler stand - the decorative type they make to hang jewellery on.

It is still beautiful in its own, sculptural way, but as it was by far the biggest plant we had, and now lacking its own natural jewellery, our tiny garden looks strangely empty, exposed. There's a poem in there, possibly, I thought. And then, out of the blue, it made me think : 'too many times I've seen the rose die on the vine...' (from the song: 'I'd rather leave while I'm in love')

Maybe it's because I've been listening to, and writing new poems about songs and the memories and feelings they evoke in me. This particular song I found slightly odd at the time - I was young and believed in everlasting love, possibly - but it's always fascinating to hear and think about songs from that time now that I'm much older and... whatever I am now. 

I've also gone back to my vast archive of photos for inspiration (even before I found the ekphrastic poetry challenges on Twitter). I post a photo most days - mainly just with a few words that come to mind, but I have a number of old photo-inspired short poems/haiku, which I might post more of online (I've tried a couple). As well as responding to the challenges. But in writing/responding now, I'm finding that my poems are taking a new turn - less direct, more tangential.

So many different forms of inspiration. So many ways to interpret an image.

I'm also still thinking of more ways to make all my poems - old and new - available free, and not just online - more on this to come. Feeling positive. And some days strong. I'm still working on that.

The old poems

While I spend some time thinking about the new poems I'm writing and want to write, I thought I'd share some of the old ones that didn't make it into print - though some got shortlisted. This week, one I wrote about my mother, who was a primary school teacher for a short period of her life, before serious ill health stopped her working.

Teacher

Look at their little faces

as they sit there waiting

for me to tell a story.

There was some chatter

but I silenced it

and now they all look to me.

I shall tell them

of a princess

locked in a tower.

I shall tell them

of the life

she dreamed she'd have.

I shall watch

their little faces waiting

for the rescue, the escape.

I'll let them wait

and then I'll say

The End.

The road to happiness

On X/Twitter this week, lots of people have been reporting the number of rejections they've received for submissions to poetry magazines.

I am pleased to report that I have had 0 rejections this week. That is because I do not currently have any submissions in.

And it would appear that even if you get a poetry collection published, the chances are you won't sell many copies (30-60, but definitely under 100).

I am therefore also feeling pretty pleased because my self-published genre-defying poetry/words/photograph book sold 87 copies, back in 2019/20. (I gave away the rest of the 100 print run to friends and family.)

So, while not submitting or getting published, I have, as I said I would, spent my time recently exploring the many online poetry resources. There are so many, I could spend my entire life doing just that, if inconvenient chores like shopping, cooking, cleaning, repairing my collapsing home, etc didn't get in the way.

This exploration has left me both inspired and overwhelmed. My mind keeps darting off in different directions and won't settle on any one. I have, however, drafted quite a few new poems, and even tweeted one or two. They have received a positive response. And I'm pretty chuffed about that too. 

The road to happiness is clear.

Writing and connecting

There is a whole world of writing out there. If you write alone, for yourself, then maybe you can stay outside it. But even then, you read, and what you read will affect you, consciously or unconsciously. 

And if you want your writing to be out in the world, then you can't ignore that world, and that world seems to have 'rules' and 'shoulds' about how to write and what. You may react to it in different ways at different times - accept it/reject it, but you can't escape the fact it exists.

But there's still the 'you' that is 'you' alone and the 'you' that has to find your way in that world, and that can mean judging yourself and what you write from that point of view, even when you don't want to. And finding yourself judged by it. Or even excluded by it. Just like life generally, I guess.

And what you write may not be read by others in the way you intended, or may not 'fit'.

Fundamentally, for me, writing is about storytelling. It's about expressing myself and wanting to communicate, connect. Writing has helped me see things differently, to see connections...

This week there has been a lot of new sharing and connecting on Twitter/X, much of which has been inspired by Matthew M C Smith and TopTweetTuesday and I've been really happy to be included and to share.

It's easy to feel that you're not part of the wider world - of writing - or in general. And to cut yourself off, or feel cut off. Some of the things that were shared this week were blogs and websites - and these are ways I can connect - and through Twitter/X.

I've talked about ways forward for me before, but I think now that these points of free access are the way for me. I, like many people, don't have the money to buy all the books and magazines available - much as I would love to, and I'm lucky that I have many in my home that I've acquired in the past, including from friends, and they are still wonderful to go back to.

But, for the future, I can connect via the huge variety of online resources, and likewise contribute and express myself in the same way. 

 

Not there

There's a place, I think - 

a path, an avenue of trees,

and a church at the end

and a graveyard

and behind

there are fields that lead down to the sea

and the light is glowing on the water

and a boat moving slowly

and there are birds

so tiny on the shore

and the distant call of gulls

and I'm walking

and I'm still

and I hear it

and I feel it

and it's where I want to be

and am not.

First published in Seaborne magazine

Normality will return

And those who were undervalued before

will be undervalued again.

And those who were vulnerable before

will be vulnerable again.

And the things we vowed to remember

we will forget.

And the things we vowed to change

will be unchanged.

Normality will return

with all its inadequacies.

And more people will lose the fight.

I've posted this before, but it seems right to post again this week, nationally and globally.

Too early, too late

It was only March

but already bees were on the blossom,

blue tits were nesting,

too many things were happening too soon.

He said he'd heard it on the radio,

The Last Spring - by Grieg,

and I, thinking it a good thing to do,

bought him the CD.

We sat and listened to it together

and he said nothing.

Not thinking, I said it was beautiful

and he said nothing.

The days grew longer

and the time shorter,

the blossom faded

and the blue tits left.

When he died in May

then I knew what it was he didn't say.

First published by Indigo Dreams Publishing