tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post6232271173697245228..comments2023-06-24T14:21:13.094+02:00Comments on AppleHouse Poetry Workshop: The Beautiful ListLynne Reeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11852192697142140025noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-42574206885145074722011-06-02T16:39:06.863+02:002011-06-02T16:39:06.863+02:00Hi Keith - you have lists within the poem... and a...Hi Keith - you have lists within the poem... and anyway I always think people should only follow a prompt as far as their own writing wants to go. My favourite lines here:<br />.. the sun dips<br />beyond factory and house.<br />Evening crumbs on the lawn,<br /><br />They're so simple but simple concrete language can be so evocative. <br /><br />@ Glen - I like the direction this poem takes, from the ancient to the contemporaty world. <br /><br />@ Martin - great title. And the closure is lovely too. The world keeps turning.<br /><br />@ Lu - this is an imagination grabbing title too. I like 'the oblation' sitting in the middle of the poem. <br /><br />@ Geoff - wonderfully vivid imagery. I love: 'banana leaves wilting like maypole/ ribbons', how it brings two worlds together. <br /><br />@ Anonymous - I prefer the forst version of 'Remember Autumn'. I like the repetition of 'Remember' in the middle and I think the images are more accessible to the reader in the more expanded form you first had. Lovely poem. <br /><br />June's prompt will be up soon. Thanks, everyone, for sharing your poems.Lynne Reeshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11852192697142140025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-3362101304112759052011-05-31T16:40:10.720+02:002011-05-31T16:40:10.720+02:00Or maybe I prefer it like this:
Remember Autumn
...Or maybe I prefer it like this:<br /><br />Remember Autumn<br /><br />the time you vanished<br />in the last of the neck high grasses by the river -<br />moisture in the air like a muffler,<br />voices in the gardens<br />the volume turned down?<br />Remember browns that sang like cellos?<br />That secret, a conker in your pocket?<br />Someone closed their curtains,<br />someone put the clocks back.<br />You took a photo, folding it all away.<br /><br /><br />- not sure:)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-14008313134693526052011-05-19T13:09:38.245+02:002011-05-19T13:09:38.245+02:00Remember Autumn
the time you vanished
in the last...Remember Autumn<br /><br />the time you vanished<br />in the last of the neck high grasses by the river -<br />moisture in the air like a muffler,<br />voices in the gardens<br />the volume turned down?<br />Remember that glimpse of a woman with a cello?<br />Remember that secret, a conker in your pocket?<br />Someone drew their curtains,<br />someone put the clocks back.<br />You took a photo, hoping to keep it.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-92060702136847471382011-05-18T18:25:31.183+02:002011-05-18T18:25:31.183+02:00Indian Heat
wraps round me like a winding-sheet,...Indian Heat<br /><br /> wraps round me like a winding-sheet, it’s lizards testing each<br /> scorching stone with uplifted feet; birdwing butterflies supping long draughts from hibiscus flowers, buffaloes wallowing <br />under a skin of muddy water - snorting plumes of brown <br />breath, it’s glugs of coconut milk; nerves taut<br /> as tablas, my palms sweating spices, tongues lolling on tight lips, rice stubble crackling under coolies’ feet, pi-dogs worrying tics <br />and scabby genitals, methane fizzing in open sewers, it’s beggars <br />staunching suppurating sores, banana leaves wilting like maypole <br />ribbons; it’s flesh unpeeled from vinyl seats, scorpions <br />stealing into the darkness of shoes, peacocks shivering<br />punka tails; it’s a row of kohl-lined squinting eyes; cow-dung<br /> crusted in whorled cones, barefoot pilgrims salving crazed feet, it’s a rotting carcass alive with flies dizzy and drunk; jalopies nursing shattered diesel pumps, my jaundiced open book, gangs of crows <br />cresting neem trees, cawing their omnipotence. <br /><br />It’s awaiting the monsoon.<br /><br />Dark clouds rest their weight on the hillside. <br />Thorn trees lose battles with a mad wind,<br /> roots staring at the sky.<br />The brainfever bird shrills across the valley-<br />Rain’s coming Rain’s coming Rain’s coming.<br />Fat drops bubblewrap the lake, wriggle into palm tree thatch.<br /> The village gods are garlanded.Geoffhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04907818835364354066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-29938232443376681062011-05-13T19:23:22.334+02:002011-05-13T19:23:22.334+02:00Dam should read
...
of woodland trees
from olive ...Dam should read<br />...<br />of woodland trees <br />from olive to aqua, pea, <br /><br />emerald, sage, <br />through to verdigris...martin cordreynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-20868220885131858262011-05-13T19:14:19.851+02:002011-05-13T19:14:19.851+02:00Anaesthetic
(after reading ‘of love & hope)
...Anaesthetic <br />(after reading ‘of love & hope)<br /><br />I’m looking <br />across the valley <br /><br />from this sterile room, <br />before <br /><br />going under the knife: <br />Then they <br /><br />ask me to count down <br />from 50-1 <br /><br />as a needle pierces <br />my skin; <br /><br />only I’d rather recall <br />various hues <br /><br />of woodland trees <br />from olive <br /><br />through to aqua, pea, <br /><br />emerald, sage, <br />on to verdigris,<br /><br />or walnut, cocoa, <br />burnt copper - <br /><br />By the time I surrender <br />to clouded yellow<br /><br />dappled <br />in morning sunlight<br /><br />I’ve flown <br />from this world.martin cordreynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-5276700024110549302011-05-10T20:19:26.326+02:002011-05-10T20:19:26.326+02:00Tomb-Sweeping Day
So much I’ve missed
the incense...Tomb-Sweeping Day<br /><br />So much I’ve missed<br />the incense<br /><br />the joss paper<br />for burning<br /><br />the incessant rain<br />sad like tears<br /><br />the deep pools of your eyes<br />impossible to see through<br /><br />the oblation - the rice wine<br />sprinkled before the grave<br /><br />the thick smell of<br />swirling smokes<br /><br />palms together with prayers<br />spring after spring<br /><br />my polluted heart is<br />cleansed, then<br /><br />rejuvenated<br />again.Lunoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-11982309826931355802011-05-07T15:07:49.117+02:002011-05-07T15:07:49.117+02:00Why I miss freshwater fishing
Leaving home
befor...Why I miss freshwater fishing<br /><br />Leaving home <br />before the sun returns from the West.<br /><br />The walk across fields <br />of Wildflower, through Bluebell woods.<br /><br />Mimicking Pigeons, Woodpecker, Cuckoo’s<br />The cry of a screech owl, a single Fox.<br /><br />Chasing Rabbits. Meandering with the stream.<br />Pooh sticks from a stone bridge.<br /><br />Sitting on a deck chair, in, a still lake, <br />becoming one with nature – <br /><br />as a Kingfisher perches on my rod, <br />Dragon Flies, Bees in flight.<br /><br />Spawning in the reeds; Golden Tench,<br />shoals of Crucian Carp, Rudd.<br /><br />A Water Vole eating ground bait at my feet <br />Dogs chasing sticks and Ducks.<br /><br />Slivering Grass Snakes yards away. <br />Moorhens nesting. Silence. <br /><br />A flock of Canadian Geese taking off <br />forming a V in the sky?<br /><br />Watching a storm approach, large rain drops <br />beating a march across the horizon.<br /><br />The change in light, in temperature <br />as the sun rises, the sun falls.Martin Cordreynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-42928820881954442592011-05-06T21:22:35.735+02:002011-05-06T21:22:35.735+02:00Felinius Azteca
Lion dream staring malevolently
f...Felinius Azteca<br /><br />Lion dream staring malevolently<br />from out of rainbow rock,<br />when did you stalk,<br />where did you hunt,<br />why were you worshipped<br />as an Aztec god?<br /><br />More than panther<br />but not quite tiger,<br />covered with leopard’s spots,<br />your thick mane radiates<br />from solid stone like sun rays,<br />with whiskers in counterpoint,<br />your crown is decorated<br />with alien glyphs<br />and unfamiliar symbols,<br />some magnificent galaxial cat lord<br />unearthed, dredged up, <br />raw yet regal,<br /><br />with a face divided,<br />one eye war red, the other sky blue,<br />with battle, anger, death, and blood<br />on the right, and waterworld--<br />great lakes and seas,<br />waterfalls and tears<br />on the left;<br /><br />and room for love,<br />Christ consciousness,<br />pet or jester for the gods of the east,<br />hidden <br />in some anteroom <br />in a secret tomb, <br />in some undiscovered pyramid<br />in Central America<br /><br />that perhaps I visited<br />while out of body,<br />sucking mushroom mist<br />or repeating the mantra whelped<br />from darkness of days upon us,<br />or yet to come, and I salute you<br />with a bow of the head,<br />a bending of the knee,<br />even though I still see those eyes<br />with my own closed, <br />and I can hope you are more<br />than portent, because I know<br />we need you desperately,<br />now more than ever.<br /><br />Glenn Buttkus<br /><br />May 2011Glenn Buttkushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10680725814199700692noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5409519305033642895.post-7402811921080977262011-05-06T20:28:24.445+02:002011-05-06T20:28:24.445+02:00The garden sings -
gospel harmony
birds in full bl...The garden sings -<br />gospel harmony<br />birds in full bloom<br />warbling, wheeping, chiffing<br />colouring early summer.<br />The garden sings -<br />bluebells ringing<br />primroses shining<br />and weeds among <br />the great and good.<br />The garden sings -<br />an evening melancholia,<br />blues to greys,<br />as the sun dips<br />beyond factory and house.<br />Evening crumbs on the lawn,<br />shadows wait in ambush,<br />night raises a watchful eye<br />as curtains draw<br />and the songs of sunset<br />segue into dreaming.<br /><br /><br />I suspect this falls outside of a 'list' but it was an interesting exercise.Keith Wallishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04780087068444798682noreply@blogger.com