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Virtual workshop and a poem
I joined a virtual poetry workshop yesterday run by the wonderful Tonic and wrote this:
First crop of the year
Upheaval
Serenity Study zine
I turned my poem from NaPoWriMo Day 27 into a little zine.
Napowrimo 2020 Day 30- Burn
I expect these days to fade like
photographs left on a windowsill.
That's the hope. The numbers will
blur, the weeks will drain of detail
and colour and I will be left with
outlines and vague shapes, glimpses
of faces in the washed-out clouds,
voices speaking through the hiss.
Napwriomo 2020 Day 29- Fragment
Today my mind is like confetti thrown
to the wind, like a website with every
space filled with adverts, all flashing
for my attention, like a river delta
as hundreds of tributaries race towards
the ocean. Do you understand? It's like
I've drunk ten espressos and all I can hear
is the thumping house beat of my heart or
like I am dust in the depths of the galaxy
not yet ready to coalesce into planets.
You must know what I mean. It's like I'm
a beam of light shot through a prism,
or my thoughts are cryptic crossword clues
or I'm a CRT television stuck between
channels, half images looping back over
themselves. What I'm trying to say is
I'm like a lizard darting across hot
sands, it's like I'm caught in a washing
machine near the end of the cycle, like
I've become a comet entering the atmosphere
before inevitably burning, disintegrating,
becoming nothing more than fine ash rain.
Napowrimo Day 28 - Guilt
The sky is a confusion of clouds
whereas just yesterday you could
see the galaxy spin. We are out
of coffee once again, the internet
is often on the blink and helicopters
are swarming day and night in hives.
The oceans are swelling, drowning
small coastal towns. The years are
now dandelion seeds in a gale.
I blink. Ten more have flown away.
Napowrimo 2020 Day 27- Serenity Study
After Solmaz Sharif
Napowrimo 2020 Day 26- We Are Mostly Empty
As we tumbled through the void,
everything was calm and peaceful
if you ignored the constant drone
of spycraft. The air was pink
electric and crackled with potential
Napowrimo 2020 Day 25- Some Advice
I wouldn't open that door if I were you.
Last year I stored the Atlantic ocean
behind it, stuffed it into every corner.
I only just managed to close the latch.
If opened, the room will fill with brine,
the house as well, the streets of this
sea-level town all submerged and we will
sink down to rest on the carpet below.