This is a development of an exercise undertaken as part of a tutorial for A215. It didn't amount to much in the form in which I found it in a long-forgotten file. Now, though, I am quite pleased with it. This is part of the the value of NaPoWriMo, isn't it? Roll on next year!
My grandmother told me she fought and screamed
through two red days and white nights;
recalled how her shrinking flesh was racked,
hacked opened like so much meat.
She described how she cursed and scratched and spat,
and thrashed and wrestled and swore.
'You drop your pride with your drawers,' she said.
'That was my first mistake.
She survived the birth but with what sad weight
my father tipped the balance of her life;
for her ten-pound, laughing, blue-eyed boy
she was stripped of all her bloom.
Though love flowed through and about her still,
all the warmth and the wanting had fled.
The lamplight threw shadows that mocked her youth
and the bedlinen crawled with her fear.
Friday 30 April 2010
Thursday 29 April 2010
Thursday, 29th April, 2010 Out There
Out There
If you are out there somewhere,
leaning in, straining your ear;
if you hold the night like a whorled shell
to hear the past's small roar;
then you must know -
I have to tell you -
how to go about finding me;
only open your golden mouth
and let your song swell.
I will seek you out;
though your song may be small,
the wind will carry it to me.
From the winking edge
of the desert dark
I will turn my steps
where you call.
If you are out there somewhere,
leaning in, straining your ear;
if you hold the night like a whorled shell
to hear the past's small roar;
then you must know -
I have to tell you -
how to go about finding me;
only open your golden mouth
and let your song swell.
I will seek you out;
though your song may be small,
the wind will carry it to me.
From the winking edge
of the desert dark
I will turn my steps
where you call.
Wednesday 28 April 2010
Wednesday, 28th April Momento Mori
For R. C, A Passing Thought
Here, under glass, the words of one long-missed,
a dozen lines concluded with a kiss.
How tenderly those artful figers traced
the lineaments of passion in this face.
Here, under glass, the words of one long-missed,
a dozen lines concluded with a kiss.
How tenderly those artful figers traced
the lineaments of passion in this face.
Tuesday 27 April 2010
Tuesday, 27th April, 2010 A Fear
I had a fear of solitude;
perhaps I guessed my fate
and feared I could not bear the risk
of mortage to estate.
Then, one day, came a spider by,
a lodger and a friend;
all fears dismissed accordingly,
debts paid - and coin to spend.
perhaps I guessed my fate
and feared I could not bear the risk
of mortage to estate.
Then, one day, came a spider by,
a lodger and a friend;
all fears dismissed accordingly,
debts paid - and coin to spend.
Monday 26 April 2010
Monday, 26th April, 2010 Guided Meditation
Guided Meditation
Dream a gift, they said.
Ok, I replied.
I closed my eyes,
tried to let the river take me,
hoping for something rare and rich
to rise up out of the mist.
Some received crystals,
a fountain, a key,
a fistful of stars, an acorn;
in my hand only
a scrap of paper,
one way permission
to ride,
Dream a gift, they said.
Ok, I replied.
I closed my eyes,
tried to let the river take me,
hoping for something rare and rich
to rise up out of the mist.
Some received crystals,
a fountain, a key,
a fistful of stars, an acorn;
in my hand only
a scrap of paper,
one way permission
to ride,
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