adventure

family portrait

~ extraplorer ~ 4 Comments

They learned to drive
a tractor at the age of eight.
could deliver a lamb
(or a calf probably)
before they went to school.
When I arrived at their house
I dodged dogs barking: ‘oh
he’ll never hurt you’ at odds
with my fear.
They always cooked for twelve.
We could play in barns
full of hay and straw, taking care
not to be crushed to death
by falling bales.
Their cats lived outside,
their litter tray a pile of sand.
They ate
everything on their plates, even the fat.
Grew their own vegetables and fruits,
enumerated runner bean hauls,
raspberry baskets, plum punnet
and made loganberry jam, whatever that was.

I liked books.

retreat: over half way

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So, extraplorers…

A short(ish) post I am supposed to be:

  1. Working on poems to read tonight
  2. Writing up three poems to put in the class anthology tomorrow morning at 9:30am
  3. Working on poems to be read out at our ‘reading’ tomorrow night
  4. Getting more questions ready for tomorrow’s ‘drop in’ tutorials.

Somehow despite my poem enthusiasm I seem to have spent free time in very rascally ways like walking into the local village for a cream tea, going for a run in which I got lost and having my portrait taking.

I.e. not writing (but perhaps this is the most writerly thing I have done all week?)

Anyway, to summarise my actual writing progress so far:

  1. My poem about my granny (‘someone I don’t know well‘) turned out very nicely and was received with enthusiasm from the group and positive feedback from the real poets.  I still have some feedback to consider about this such as decide whether the order of stanzas could be better.
  2. I met one of my goals by writing and reading an intensely personal poem this morning.  I have wanted to be braver about this and I had several affirming comments both on bravery and quality.
  3. I had a quietly incredible tutorial this afternoon where some of my lurking questions (‘is this too self-absorbed?’, ‘does this even work as a poem?’) were met with wonderful responses about the quality, potential and validity of my writing.  I don’t think I have yet recognised the full weight of this.

Right!  Back to work.

 

 

writing to order and other new things

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So it’s been very interesting to be on a poetry course.  Spending time formally considering my own creative writing makes me realise that the last time I did this was when I was about thirteen years old, in English class, before everything turned into A-level essays on this and undergraduate degree studies on that.

Things I have done today that I have not done in the last twenty-seven years:

  1. Write a poem to order.  Here’s a poem about waiting.  Now you write a poem about waiting (here is ‘Waiting‘, unfinished)
  2. Read my own poem out loud to other people.
  3. Read my own poem out loud to a tutor and receive feedback.
  4. Have other known people (than my mum) take my poetry seriously.
  5. Listened to other people read their own creative work aloud to me.

The morning made me feel intensely passionate and vulnerable and dishevelled and lagging behind and out in front and questioning and excited.

Writing to order made me trip over words, try to be too clever, hit on a line of beauty, tumble over a cliché and want to go into hiding, and to come out of hiding.

Listening to others made me in awe, moved, wry, patient and outraged.

I have rarely had this many feelings in such a short space of time.

High point of the day so far:  A real poet said my  ‘wild night run‘ poem was ‘lovely’.  And she gave me some very interesting feedback about how to make it stronger, which I will work on in due course.

I am tired!

Now I must go and get some poems ready to read aloud later on.

Thank you for your encouragement!

 

portrait

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one child much smaller,
party skirt, top with
‘3’ and dried tomato
sauce (is it?) lags
lags behind, pulls
herself up, tries
to follow, eek, slips.
She is no match for her
brother (batman outfit  –
probably pyjamas) and his
new shoes.

Note: This is from the ‘poetry retreat’ series.  As our first exercise we read ‘Subject Matter’ by W. Hart-Smith and were asked to write poem that paints a picture in four an a half minutes (this took one and a half, I think). 

extraplorer on tour

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I’m back!

OK so the ‘year of the poem’ has not turned out exactly as envisaged in my January posts.  The year of the poem turned, quite quickly, into the year of hardly any poem at all.

Until now.

After months of almost continuous business work and travel, devoid not only of any written down poems, but of any poetic moments at all (maybe they were there, but so fleeting that they escaped before I even had a chance to notice), I am on a poetry course.  Four whole days of thinking and writing about poems.

So I thought you might like to join back on the adventure of extraploring…

To get us started, last night we did a welcome unlike any I’ve attended on a course (this is my first ever poetry course).  We didn’t ‘go round the table and say our names’, no, too prosaic by far, we went round and said our favourite words.

I was in immediate and total bliss: ‘swipe’, ‘splash’, ‘twilight’, ‘botch’, ‘gossamer’, dollop’, ‘interstices’, ‘lime’, ‘splendid’.  A (to be honest) motley collection of us all suddenly united under the banner of ‘I love words’.

And then… well, I will keep you posted with our exercises and writing and you can see how we get on.  One thing to note: This is an ‘editing poetry’ course so some of the questions I have sometimes asked might get answered here.

Wish me luck!