Yesterday I mentioned that I haven’t been writing recently. This is, of course, a lie: there are always fragments of ideas that get jotted down or filed away in memory until the right context and focus is found.
Those that remain in memory will surface sporadically, looking for something to connect to. And I’ll come across odd phrases scribbled on paper some time in the future when I’m clearing up and maybe type them onto the computer or add them to a file of papers where they are less likely to get lost.
Eventually some of them will link up and a poem may start to brew, or I may find a use for some of them alongside a photo here on the blog.
Among the papers on my desk at the moment, there are the phrases “irrevocably entangled” and “nationalistic bogma”, both of which came from recent presentations I attended. I’m not sure they belong in poems, but they did catch my attention and you never know when such phrases might come in handy.
Rather more like poetry is a piece that starts:
I am lying alongside a dragon
I think it has potential, but at the moment it relies too much on fancy layout so it’s been put back to be worked on later.
Another note begins hopefully:
I scrawled your name
on the beach; the breeze
sang as it scampered
across furrowed sand.
But then it degenerates into something quite infantile and angsty, so I’m leaving it until it matures.
Last week I was walking in the park
…where jowly pigeons
strut and bob…
I suspect I’ll find a place for that eventually, as those pigeons sound like the type of birds who inhabit my poems. I don’t think they belong with the “coot in blue marigolds”, though:
It would be a lie, then, to say the spring hasn’t inspired me to write: I just haven’t actually written a whole new poem in a while. For the moment, I’m satisfied with taking notes.