You are far away,
Yet you still stick pins in a
Doll who looks like me.
28 May 2007
And this was written the day after"Jenga". It obviously knocked me back a bit... I like this one, cos it seems simple, but uses a lot of alliteration and assonance.
You keep pulling the
Blocks out from under me. I
Sway, but do not fall.
27 May 2007
I wrote this the day I made some even more shocking discoveries about my husband.
In case you don't know (and a few people didn't), Jenga is a game where you build a tower of layers of 3 wooden blocks. You then take turns to pull out blocks in the lower levels, and put them on top. The tower obviously gets more and more wobbly, and the winner is the person who had the last successful go, before the tower collapses.
I still cling to the
Coast of our bed, and fear to
Explore its dark heart.
14 May 2007
In case you don't know, the title is the Latin for “unknown country”, and old maps often had it written where people didn't know what was there, esp. in Africa. Hence the allusion to “Heart of Darkness”: bit too clever perhaps?
I still sleep on my
Side of the bed. When will I
Move to the middle?
1 May 2007
This is the first of several poems where I write a “simple” one, and then develop it a few weeks later. This one has had a lot of resonance for a lot of people.
Her son is having
Chemo, yet she weeps when I
Tell her my story.
26 April 2007
A totally true event. Occasionally, when I feel a bit sorry for myself, I remember this...
Now that the last thing
Which smelled of you has gone, for
Ever has begun.
15 April 2007
In the dark, a seed,
Watered by its own tears, I
Become a flower.
13 April 2007
Looking back, it seems that I got to this stage awfully quickly.
Without a Parachute
You pushed me from the
Plane. I long to hit the ground,
So the fear will end.
9 April 2007
Written the first night, when everything exploded.
| Pedicure My orange toenails
8 August 2007 |
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| My sister treated me to a pedicure! I wanted to have “waiting in their box”, and cldn't see what else to cut to keep it a haiku. Does that matter?
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| The next five poems, are ones I have written for my creative writing ”workshops” with my friend, Paula. Sometimes, they're “homework”, and sometimes, they're done “on the spot”. |
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| Pizza Oven The flaming tongue licks
17 September 2007 | |
| This one was just “observational”, in a wine bar which serves pizza. We actually gave our efforts to the manager, who seemed stunned, but appreciative! |
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| Dim Sum Crispy-soft; dry-wet;
30 September 2007 | |
| This was homework, and we'd chosen the theme of Food. I had been to the terracotta army exhibition, followed by dim sum, earlier that day.
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| Braille Fingers become eyes,
1 October 2007 This was “on the spot”, and we'd chosen the theme of Touch, as it sort of followed on from Food (5 senses). | |
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| ACROSTICS
Jenny Jenny is lonely Again, on the spot. We decided to do something totally technical. It is interesting, how, like the Proverbial poem earlier, they end up surprisingly poignant. This shld strictly be in the Divorce poems, but it's not a Haiku or a tanka!
Paula Paula floats
1 October 2007 The 3rd line is a bit long, but who cares? |
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They have fallen
In every possible, looped shape:
Circles,
Eggs,
Bananas,
Hearts,
Figures-of-eight,
Male genitalia.
I worry about the birds
Choking,
As they destroy
His way home.
22 February 2008
I seem to be obsessed with things I see on pavements at the moment... Obviously, hints of Hansel and Gretel, and (in the title) "Pippa Passes" by Browning...
Dark Day Facial
My flailing heartbeat
Slows under the beautician's
Fluttering fingers.
Les Mains Sales
My flesh rots, where your
Hands touched me; and the gangrene
Spreads beyond my skin.
12 October 2007
Imitating Art
Upstairs, the police
Seize evidence, while I watch
“CSI” downstairs.
17 October 2007
First Christmas
The cards are coming
In – some still addressed to you
And me. I put the
Goats on the piano, and
The sheep on the mantelpiece.
12 December 2007
False Economy
The Christmas cards,
Bought cheap in the January sales,
Sit unwritten in the hall:
Unsendable.
When I opened
Their box, loft-stored for eleven months,
I found you had pre-signed them,
Before carrying them up:
To avoid my Advent nagging.
Final draft: 20 January 2008
17 September 2007
The firefly children
Flit, garlanded in glowing,
Rainbow necklaces.
The young couples kiss,
Swaying to the hot music,
Under the rum-soaked moon.
My friends, who still brought
Me this year, chat beer-handed
With next-door neighbours.
Wrapped in my fraying,
Tartan, school blanket, I dance
Alone in the wind.
21 July 2007
Look before you leap
Jump before you’re pushed
When push comes to
Shove ha’penny
Half a pound of tuppenny rice
Jack jump over the candlestick
Jumpin’ Jack Flash
Jump for joy
Ode to Joy
To a Nightingale
Sang in Berkeley Square
London Bridge
Is falling down
Here comes your nineteenth
Nervous breakdown
In the tube station at
Midnight is worth two after
You’ve gone
But not forgotten
29 June 2007
I peer out from the
Concertina corridors,
And – like Alice – step
Through fluid glass, to
Ask myself if the thoughts in
My head are hers too.
24 June 2007
I pivot on the
Year’s peak, and face the dark slope
Down to midwinter.
22 June 2007
I shake my head to
A red lollipop – heart-shaped –
14 February 2008
Contrails,
Silvered by the edging sun -
The brushwork of pilots
On the aching blue.
17 February 2008
A friend recently said that this reminded them of the poem, "High Flight" by John Gillespie Magee, which I certainly knew, so maybe I was subconsciously using it. I particularly remember it, because it was quoted in a film about the Challenger disaster (and President Reagan also quoted part of it in his speech after the disaster). Interestingly enough, if you look it up in Wikipedia, there is a section about how Magee was clearly influenced by other poems when he wrote it, so I don't feel quite as bad!
High Flight
Above the frosted darkness of the garden,
The pigeon stalls to land on the highest branch,
And is caught – amber-winged –
In the spotlight of dawn.
20 February 2008
