Things My Father Told Me
After the blast, there was no sound;
people’s shadows crushed into the ground;
the dark abyss of humanity’s soul
revealed by an act – unspeakable. Foul.
For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.
Tag Archives: poetry
Weekly Photo Challenge: Twinkle
Often
in the crowd
a ghost flies by
in a smile, in a walk
in the twinkle of an eye.
A Wild Night in Tokyo
For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post. (Although, when I last looked, their pingbacks weren’t working.)
Kill Your Darlings Not Your Editor
Given the grammar and punctuation transgressions on this blog, you’ll probably find it hard to believe that I qualified as a book editor over a decade ago. *Sharp intakes of breath around the Blogosphere* Yes, you know who you are. 😀 Breathe easy; I’ve yet to give up my day job.
What I do know is that editing is critical to the writing process and essential for, at the very least, published works and professional documents. And what I did learn in studying for my editing qualification is the need for tact when dealing with authors and their work, no matter how awful either.
At work, I edit my own writing before and after I get someone else to edit it. Even so, when I do the final edit, I’m often bemused to find a number of errors remaining. When it comes to prose, I know my weak areas: omission of functions words, homonym misuse and comma confusion, to name but a few, so I know what to look for. But, poetry? I really have no idea.
So it is with heartfelt gratitude, appreciation and admiration that I thank Linda Cosgriff (a.k.a. The Laughing Housewife) for the gift of her editing expertise on my first poetry collection.
Linda is what the publishing industry (if she were to put herself out there) would consider an exceptional editor: she knows her stuff, and she is unafraid to say what needs to be said on both form and style but does so in an encouraging, tactful and respectful manner. And she sends gifts. 😀
I’ve taken most of her advice…
..OK, I admit I’ve granted clemency to some of my poor darlings.
Any errors remaining in the book are purely mine.
You have done me an immense favour, Linda dear. Thank you for the gift of your friendship, your valued input and the Olympic Games bookmark with the inspiring quote. ♥♥♥
Canine Fictions
My S-I-L Belinda has an eye for the interesting, the beautiful and the absurd and takes the most wonderful photos.
I love this photo of hers and thought it the perfect match to a poem that I wrote for Gabrielle Bryden’s Close Shaves Week. Thanks, B. 🙂
Photo by Belinda Price-Sinclair
Tank
the neighbour’s dog
has a lot
to say in the morning.
I imagine he entertains
the Vox Dogz with tales
of victorious nocturnal stoushes
with the white cat from across the road:
“A face like a chook’s bum
I tell ya rrrrhahahaharuffruff “
But I’ve seen him run
wide-eyed
at the sight of her.
(Look, Tilly, no commas! 🙂 )
Weekly Photo Challenge: Between
We’ve had this one before, and I am studying for an exam, so a re-post this week. For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.
Between
is the breath between
life and death,
the laughter between
the light and hereafter,
the whispers
between love and fractures.
Between
the glass reflections
float words consequential,
some, kind, reverential,
others, profane and mean,
drifting down, unseen,
on matchstick people
and their matchbox lives
us
breathing it in
like asbestos
Take care
with the words
between
——–bb
Writing Process Blog Tour
Dear blog-amie Gabrielle Bryden has tagged me in the Writing Process Blog Tour, which involves me answering the following questions and tagging a few other writing bloggers:
What am I working on?
How does my work differ from others of its genre?
It’s never accepted for publication.
Why do I write what I do?
I once read somewhere that Stephen King said something along the lines of that if he hadn’t become a writer, he would’ve become a small town sniper. My reasons aren’t quite as extreme (and, in case you hadn’t noticed, neither is my level of success), but writing—poetry, in particular—is a good outlet for stress and the things that fire my imagination.
How does my writing process work?
It’s a bit like vomiting, really – atrocious analogy, I know. But it is; it just happens of its own accord. One Saturday morning, I sat down with the intention of writing a non-fiction post about the notion that cheese before bed causes nightmares and within an hour, I had written this, something altogether different from what I’d intended.
Next on the Writing Process Blog Tour (tagged writers, feel free to ignore)
Thanks, Gabe 😀
Class of Whatever
“Banker,
gay,
no kids”,
he says,
as he snips my fringe.
“That’s what I tell them,
then take it from there.”
We agree
school reunions
are best avoided.
Search Engine Poetry, Cryptically
After the response I got to my Search Engine Poetry challenge last year, I thought it would be fun to do it again this year. But, sadly, due to the reasons reported by Timethief over at
Google has gone and torpedoed all that – Pfffft!
(Christine, can you please have a mother-to-son chat about this! 🙂 )
What to do? What to do?
A Blog Title Poetry Challenge, perhaps?
Hmmm, doesn’t quite have the same ring to it…
..but it could be fun, and who knows what blogging gems we might discover along the way.
So, here’s my BTP challenge:
- Write a poem from WordPress blog titles (use the Explore Topics Tags in the WordPress Reader to help you).
- Be sure to hyperlink to the blog titles in your poem.
- Post the poem on your blog and leave a comment on this post linking to it.
- Read and comment on at least one post on the blogs whose titles you’ve used.
- Have fun!
I’ll go first:
Ducks in a row,
Let’s go!
——————————————————————————————————–
1000 Great Smoothies –
Cigars and Cupcakes,
The only Cin…
And whether or not you feel like participating in the BTP challenge, do yourself a huge favour and subscribe to one cool site; Timethief knows her blogging stuff and can help you with yours. One of her many really useful posts for bloggers can be found here. Thank you, Timethief.
Lena Maree
Tonight,
I think of my maternal grandmother,
(Chelsea buns, vetkoek, hugs to save the world)
passed some 30-odd years ago –
“Kari, Kari…”, her loving voice as I drift to sleep
and remember that stark day
she fell crossing the road
outside the Durban Museum
And I, five, thinking she was dead,
screamed!
But she did not let go
of my hand, and smiled
in her usual, generous way
as strangers helped her to her feet.
Always the comforter of souls –
Sweet, wonderful Lena Maree.
WPC: Selfie
Selfie, Picasso-style
Self Portrait (a re-post)
They say
We know
who we are
in adulthood –
Sister,
not brother,
Wife,
not mother –
A prosaic mosaic,
fragments of a self
But don’t ask me
to complete the picture –
Time has lost
more than a few pieces.
—————————————————————————————————-
For other selfies, see The Daily Post.
Five favourites from this week:
Zombie-ku
With wild flailing arms,
zombies stagger down the hill –
turbine aliens
Weekly Photo Challenge: Unexpected
Wild Conspiracies (a re-post)
I ask scribbly gum moths:
Why this graffiti on trees?
“Mind your own business,
they’re just doodles, if you please”
I ask a plodding snail:
Why the squiggles on the path?
“There ain’t nothing in it –
I just do it for a laugh”
I ask the sly hyena:
Why the tunnels ‘neath the trail?
“Well! Installation art’s
not only for the snail!”
I ask the bower bird:
Why that hoard of shining bling?
“Oh, poppet, it’s no mystery
objets d’art are my thing”
I ask the primping zebra:
What’s with the barcode?
“Poor darling, don’t you know?
Stripes are back in vogue”
But, you know, I don’t believe them –
It’s a vast conspiracy
It’s clear that they are sending
secret messages to me…
😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯 😯
For more entries to the WPC Unexpected theme, see The Daily Post.
Blurb blurble bloop… Help! One-Sentence Biography Competition
I’m trying to get my first poetry book completed and self-published on Blurb. One of the elements I’m still missing is a short blurb/biography about me in relation to poetry – I don’t want to write this myself, and if I asked anyone in my family or non-blogging circle of friends, I’d get something along the lines of:
“‘x‘ is my ‘insert relation type here‘ – she writes poetry, but I’ve got no idea what she’s on about.“
So I’m looking for some help from you—the esteemed Blogging community (how’m I doing on the sycophantic flattery front?) for something short, and not necessarily serious, and thus am holding a one-sentence biography competition:
Post your entries in the comments section of this post.
I will include the kindest best ones on the front flap and may include any snide irreverent blooper blurbs on the back, all attributed of course.
Payment?!
Don’t be silly! We all know poetry books don’t sell!
The winner will, however, receive a mystery prize. 😉
Weekly Photo Challenge: An Unusual Point of View
Traffic
There is traffic
and, then, there
is a galaxy. Traffic does not move
at the speed of light, like a flash
of rage. Step into space
without the gravity suit
and you will see
there is traffic
and the oh so important
corporate man
and, then, there is the universe. I don’t look
at the pegs as I hang
out the washing. I look
for you
beyond the moon.
***********************************************************************
For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.
Creosote
Is the scent
of an ancestor’s skull kicked
down a bush runway –
an elephant remembers
bones and dust,
the echo of hyena
comedy nights, jaws
on buffalo bones
chalk and dust,
a tall silhouette beyond the runway –
a blind man – inhales the dusk
for ghost-lions
before crossing to light
the camp fire
blood and dust
in the dark, leopards
gaze at embers
of an ancient story
fate throws the bones,
a plane flies
into a hillside
flesh and blood,
bones and dust,
and creosote.
Sea of Creepy Monsters (Warning: Not Suitable for Tillys)
I don’t believe in god or Intelligent D, But if I did, it would seem to me, While creating things wot live under the sea, He was high on coke or LSD.
Balancing
Image via http://www.sxc.hu
The upside of the downside is creativity,
downside of the downside – survivability,
upside of the upside,
anxiety-free,
downside of the upside…
..dearth of poetry.
‘In a dark time, the eye begins to see’
Theodore Roethke
——————————————————————————————–
Someone who’s definitely not suffering from a dearth of inspiration at the moment is artist (and hidden poet) Bénédicte Delachanal.
Check out her wonderfully humorous marriage of art and words as she tackles this month’s NaPoWriMo challenge. C’est une joie. 😀
Search Engine Poetry: Search me…
Power of poetry penned by survivors of 3/11 is showcased by ASIJ project | The Japan Times
Power of poetry penned by survivors of 3/11 is showcased by ASIJ project | The Japan Times.
Voices from Japan – PDF of Japanese Tanka from survivors of the 2011 earthquake and tsunami.
Unsung Heroes
Vilakazi,
in the riots of ’76,
Henderson,
in the shadows of ’77,
Bailey,
through the dark and bitter end:
Not sacrificing themselves
for a cause,
these ordinary men,
just rescuing
our hopes,
one act at a time.
Photo by RIP – © beeblu
beeblu blog 
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