Saturday, August 2, 2008

Kitten

She pats my eyelids.
I trust the claws, tucked in her
soft, blackberry paws.

29 July 2008


I had been wanting to write something about this for quite a while. It's about various aspects of my "relationship" with Muntu, the kitten I got in June. I find it interesting that she and I have a very gentle relationship, whereas she and William are much more "rough and tumble", and he is covered with scratches!

Night and Day

We return to last
night's space, emptied of busy-
ness: crowdless-quiet.

In praise-be-to-God,
dappled sunlight, I write two
poems: Then, and Now.

Drinking sunrise wine,
under wind-rustled leaves, I
act out the clich
é.

20-28 July 2008


I wrote this the day after this year's Music in the Park event in Wanstead Park (see previous entry, and last year's "Salsa in the Park", 21 July 2007), when William begged me to take him back to the Park, so he cld explore the woods. We packed a picnic, and invited his friend, Ben, to come along. I sat under a tree, with a glass of ros
é, while the boys rampaged about. I felt frightfully romantic, while I wrote the two poems, the previous one, and this one (or rather, started them, as it took me a week to decide on final(ish) drafts...). I had a debate with myself about the title: other options: "Revisited", "Paradise Revisited", and "Returning". If I had used "Night, and Day" in the last line of the second haiku/verse, I wld have used one of the other titles. I also originally had "Gerard's" or "Hopkins' ", instead of "praise-be-to-God", but I prefer this, though maybe it's a bit too clever, clever (or maybe the whole idea is a bit too self-consciously referential?).

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Déjà Re-vued


The annual event
has come again: the glowing
children still flit by;

The lovers kiss; my
securely coupled friends still
drink their beer; and I

Am alone, but the
moon is on fire; the music
has changed from salsa

To jazz, and though I
share the children's rainbows, I
do not dance this year.


20- 27 July 2008



This is the "sequel" to last year's "Salsa in the Park", and shares its structure of four haiku. I wasn't able to make each haiku a complete verse, even though I tried really hard, but maybe that's part of the point of the poem, that some things have changed and some things have remained the same. It's really about how it's now over a year since everything happened in April 2007, and so some annual events are now coming round for the second time. Other possible titles are: "Second Time Round", "Presque D
éjà" Vu", and "Jazz in the Park".

Elderflowers: Drinking

I read my cordial
poems, while the poets sip
the flowers' clear gift.


16 July 2008


The 3rd in the "trilogy" of elderflower poems. I had the 3rd meeting of the East London Stanza at my house on the 13th, and served the attendees my home-made, elderflower cordial, while I read the 2nd poem. Because one of the guys had not heard the first one, and (as usual) there were only three of us (though always one new person each time!), I also read the first one. It just struck me as rather sweet and amusing that the two things were happening at once! Not sure about the title...

Quick Update

You may be thinking that I've not been writing any poems of late! Not true at all! The truth is that I was given three beautiful notebooks for writing poems in, for my birthday, and this has dramatically altered the way I write for the moment... Instead of writing straight on to the computer, and being able to cut, paste and delete etc, I've been filling pages with messy crossings out and numbered syllables. It's very interesting to have an "archaeological record" of the thought processes, but it's also depressing to see how bad my poems look in my apalling handwriting!

I'm not at home at the moment, so am hardly accessing any computers, so probably won't have time to type up all the recent stuff today, but will start with the oldest, which I wrote on the 16th. I'm also aware that at least 3 of my recent poems refer back to earlier poems, and (as a friend said!) I'm rather arrogantly assuming readers are familar with my oeuvre!

30 July 2008

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Proverb: Reversed

I was too busy pre-
and too drunk, post-party,
to put clean sheets
on the bed,
stripped for off-chance guests.
I crawl under
the naked duvet,
to sleep on the torn
and stained mattress cover.

I did not make my bed,
so/but now I must lie in it.

8 July 2008

I still cannot decide between "so" and "but" in the last line. "So" just keeps it purely factual, light and slightly jokey, whereas the "but" makes it a reference to my situation with Peter. It was the relevance of the proverb turned round, to my life, which made me write it, but maybe it's all a bit over the top and tenuous?

Breathless at 50

I squeeze the deepest
air from soft lungs to deflame
the final candle.
The true-coming – this year – of
wishes, feels worth fainting for.

8 July 2008


Other possible titles were: "50th Birthday Cake" or "Birthday Cake at 50". I wld have liked "50 Flames" or "50 Candles", but I didn't have that many! Perhaps I'd be allowed it under poetic license?

I spent ages fiddling with various adjectives for the lungs, and verbs for the extinguishing etc, but in order to fit it into a tanka, this is what I ended up with. There were words I preferred in earlier versions.

Here's all possible versions combined in one (so not a tanka, obviously!):

I squeeze the deepest
air from flabby/empty/emptied lungs to deflame/unflame/blow out/snuff/douse
the final/last candle/light/flame.
The true-coming of wishes –
this year – feels worth fainting for.