#2065 - my little corner of the worldmind

 

2065

6.238

26.viii.25

my little corner of the worldmind

 

a dell and in the underbrush

grim joys so surviving

 

to live up

to see the dark where we do

 

much less than any

 

I’m the leaflit tree

possum up to star

 

and all the seen to me

to mind

 

world just this no more

 

flesh of once living

now ordure rise

 

begin to believe am someone else

dressed up for the day

 

think on’t

be king

not kind

 

it all revolves

I spin

 

it’s a joke that isn’t funny

you wouldn’t understand

 

an insect thing I am to be

 

have been the smoke through the treetops

 

I will unfold

 

the music of a mystery

 

 

have to remind myself to be here

it was always and ever this way

#2065 - page in another language

2065

6.238

26.viii.25

 

page in another language

a perverse orthography

Skye thoughts

 

 

the house at me

pulling picture

it’s a window that’s there

 

as if this word were all of yours –

the elements, particle, nothing

 

as cold as poison, as tired as the dog

 

and what does my hour keeper say?

 

where is the one that is at me?

 

heart offered to fit a little box

 

I’m buttering my brain

you know yourself

 

the water’s there

you’re seeing

 

is it a thing within?

take my half story

and another on

 

how’s your boat?

right enough

 

but the cloak is winter

if it’s not on me then

 

clever as a salmon

no thing and thing are same

 

the tea is as bladder upon

way’s walked to be gone

 

weather’s not finished with us yet

 

is it not in the rain of a day?

 

a dirty excuse!

 

sigh in a fairy mound

 

the right is south

 

you’d think

less words, more uses

 

up on the crest of a wave

 

to the end of the world

 

you’re seeing it

 

as happy as a shoe

I am

 

my head’s porridge

how’s yours?

  

How to Write a Long Poem #3 - Specific stimuli / poem types

 

Specific stimuli for long poems

 

Here are some types of poem you might consider for the making of a longer work. These are all things I’ve either done or attempted or plan to attempt.

 

-          Rhetorical Flourish – take an idea as far as it can go … e.g. everything is upside down, the world is a tree, what if tomorrow never comes?, everyone’s invisible ...

 

-          Unpack one idea, for instance an idiom – skin of your teeth, bite the bullet, hit the sack, kick the bucket, there are no two ways about it … take an idiom to task... dig deep - wonder where this formulation of words came from, wonder where it can go

 

-          Literalize … in this age of the word ‘literally’ being so egregiously misused e.g. – my head is spinning … well where will it land up?  … your pants are on fire … you could easily apply this principle to footy teams … something I’ve intended to try but not got around to yet

 

 

-          Poem of a particular place – could be where you are right now, could be a place from memory, could be somewhere you’d like to go

 

-          Poem on the way … of the journey, of the place to place

 

-          Poem as a particular series – e.g. a series of ekphrastics /// pictures at an exhibition, a series of poems for a suite of music

 

-          A topic (e.g. a particular abstraction) from many angles – e.g. death, love, life, God, soul, angel, money … I think it’s a particularly good challenge to create the imagery that makes your reader think again (and again) about an abstraction, without resorting to further abstraction!

 

-          Missive … write a long letter to a deceased family member explaining how things now are... it might even be to an ancestor you've never met ... alternatively, one could write a letter of apology to one of one's (perhaps unknown) descendants... 'sorry about the weather we've gifted you...' 

 

-          Poem as wild as words can go … read ‘Tom O’ Bedlam’ for a benchmark ... just write the maddest things you can think of ... and when you've gone too far, go on ...

 

.

 

The three long poems for which I am currently gathering materials concern

 

sex

Gaza

Newtonmore

 

So quite different kinds!   One about an abstraction (to be dealt with in concrete and colloquial terms!), one about a current political crisis and humanitarian catastrophe, one about walking in the Scottish highlands.

 

I’ll share some of the phases of the development of each of these with you, as they progress. (Although I have no idea what each will be titled, or indeed if I’ll manage to finish any of them, I’ll probably choose different working titles for each, so that if they are submitted anywhere there won’t be any question of prior publication.)  Stand by for fragments! 

And meanwhile, please tell us what you are planning in the way of a long poem!

#2064 - death

 

2064

6.237

25.viii.25

death

 

my best shot at oblivion

and yet not yet

 

invaluable aid to fame

and still a dodgy risk

 

it’s when the wheels come off

no weather

 

friend and foe and all the same

 

somewhere in the world

death’s constant companion

I could make a list

 

death is the falling away of the thought

death in the dung we do

 

more death

mere death

 

and springs to life

as ordure of the day breeds flies

 

we’re up to our necks in old tricks

by blade or fade

 

all this was, by the way, an homage

 

exeunt – the all of was, of me

and still you find us here

I have this to hope

we few

 

don’t call us

we’ll come for you

 

#2063 - three little poems on biscuit day

 

2063

6.236

24.viii.25

a biscuit on biscuit day

 

tractor neighbouring and fence

 

the forest is we are

 

all this weather come to

 

time takes on

when and where else?

 

has its many pockets

so everything can be accomplished

 

the biscuit in the bones

up, beg

and by the way

 

make matter

risk it

 

day is escaping

nothing to do

 

a biscuit

you notice these things

 

it’s all my head indoors

 

 

 

in the after

welcome big yellow

 

winterbits

creek run all away

all day

till rivers of its kind

salt sea

 

welcome sun

though shy

 

above me all this chatter

dark falls

 

and one step on

the stars

 

 

 

 

gathering lines in August

 

here’s the afternoon reflected

we do it with a pond

 

bright conjure

then the weather’s back

 

the grey mine too

day all up with

endwards

green yet

 

tree bent to a tune

a raucous caucus up

 

hear the creek and know

 

#2062 - upwardly mobile (the way of the possum)

2062

6.235

23.viii.25

upwardly mobile

the way of the possum

 

a scratch and crawl

cuddle up

day wistful

 

scuttle where

careless of our consequence

poo trail too, pissmark

 

sun shunning

take my picture please

a gesture to gestation

 

curl, scamper

knock down the self help shelf

gnaw for a moonlit sonata

 

as pictured on the box

a possum-in-arms

a possum-at-ease

 

it’s every possum

for its pelt

stinky

 

then let me call you

a whisper away

possum is climbing

 

held still to listen

ants to pick off

for piggy-back joey

 

down with the upsun, as I’ve said

is bandicoot oblivious

possum is up in the air

 

and springs!

most prey is leaf

yet vicious with each other

 

crippled with survival scars

up tumble till

a curvature called spine

 

in branch, to twig, so balance

delicate of air

face not unlike

 

sensate so

claws of a grapple

and scrap (fierce fun)

 

so few and far

a simple fact

and in the rain

 

what’s that?

possum’s tweed to it

in winter in the fur surprising

 

know these eyes and blink

an animal grief for all before

could get a wriggle on

 

ceiling, fruit basket

tail for a brush and some ring

a hiss and a growl in the den

 

the way of the possum is touch and go

a prowl

surviving so far as to dream

 

the way of the possum

is where the bird went

another dimension now

 

and the moon grows with

as heaven must up

so it is with stars 

#2061 - la la la blah

 

2061

6.234

22.viii.25

la la la blah

 

All the birds of the air

fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,

when they heard the bell toll

                – traditional

 

who cancelled Cock Robin?

 

into which painted corner would you like?

black or white?

 

Sparrow condemned by virtue of arrow

 

come back to be bitter

and a grovel too

 

I, said the fly

and blood for the dish

 

let’s all call names, why not?

 

no dental hygiene for the Orc-hoard

 

if none to blame, invent your Voldemort

 

and having met this they before

 

why bite?

but if you’re fish!

 

Rook for parson

Lark for clerk

 

clearly it’s all code

(this must be, in fact, the death of Balder)

 

consider as well, the lion and hat

for reflux

 

how far can you hate today?

that’s the question

 

high noon, two-way assassination

a disappearing letter does

 

shall we blame Karl Marx and Jesus Christ?

we’ve seen them team up together before

 

it was something sordid

there was a frame to begin but not good enough

 

I’m sorry, so sorry

there was a time you could still look in

 

but Elon Musk owns this

the nothing of it now

and now nobody knows

 

speak freely in a mirror

it’s the last safe place

 

here comes a tantrum too

 

I’ll be your victim

but nothing rhymes there

 

a system of stars is entailed

a high horse

and then here’s another

few hands higher

 

can we swap

a yet festoon?

 

for all this harm

who’ll sing a psalm?

 

add balance

 

high stakes

then try sincerity

 

a narrow lane, dimlit

my proscenium is arch

 

and how much holier than

… correct?

 

it’s all gone mad, it’s gone too far

it’s off the rails

a fire snowballs on

 

remind me, America

who is it taking the books off the shelves?

 

let no one pretend to be anyone else

and there’s your end of fiction

 

by chance or nature’s course untrimmed

 

get lazy with your rage at last

once blood’s in the water

 

that’s what get your ghoul hot and bothered

 

on the news tonight

board the shark tore in two

 

and now the nets are down

they’re cruel!

 

it’s always a two house plague

 

who am I?  I am me

more or less mongrel

 

you’d almost think it was important

or people thought they were

and somehow money was involved

 

nor are they sharpest tools in the shed

 

the China shop bull to pull the bell

Rupert Murdoch on the team too

 

lock horns with the unsubtlety

make your own the living hell

 

who cocked up the cancellation?

here comes Robin Hood

Maid Marion was really

…well, you don’t want to know

 

it’s all so English, this language

someone’s will be done

 

a beetle shroud

and owl with trowel

 

it’s much as dream, don’t you think?

it’s as if it all happened in a poem

in a picture, in a little sky

you could keep in your pocket

 

memories!

 

knives out!

 

throw a blanket over

but the flames spring up again

 

don’t you feel useless in the face of

 

someone is starving someone somewhere

they shoot at them too

this seems to matter

and I care

 

I signal a virtue just here

I’m awake

see them all come with their jerry cans

 

are they filling up?

are they pouring on?

 

too smoky to see

 

I’ll stay well away from the conflagration

 

I’d love to get some sleep

 

but spin my head

let’s exorcise

 

it’s all for the drama

and nobody’s paying attention now

 

cancel me quick

won’t you?

 

no one will remember this