poetry – Page 136 – don't confuse the narrator

moving experiences I

It’s a while since I posted any poetry, so, since I’m in the process of moving things from the city to the village, this seems appropriate:

PACKING

The rip and fart of parcel tape; the tangle,
stick and cuss; the smell of dust,
mothballs and corrugated cardboard.
Drugstore detergent cartons
stuffed and trussed
and stacked in the spare room.
Both cats in heat and looking
for a mate, a nest, a fond caress…
They play at pigs in pokes, scrabble,
scratch and snag at boxes, plastic bags
and bundles, wail and waul.

When finally I move, I’ll leave
fixtures and fittings
and two grown kittens.

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quis custodiet…?

We all know that it’s just about impossible to make a living from being a poet. So poets try and do other poetry-associated activities, such as workshops, readings and talks, to eke out a living.

Sometimes they get to visit schools and talk to the children about poetry and about being a writer.
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putting poetry in your life

From yesterday’s El Mundo, a clipping with a quotation that annoys me.

Baroness Thyssen has been writing her memoirs and they have been published in the Spanish society magazine ¡Hola!. It seems, though, that she has skipped over some of the facts and incidents that her (unofficial) biographers think relevant.

Her excuse?
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peas

caterpillar fat
and packed so tight
the pods won’t pop…

(There has to be a full length poem here, if I can only find it!)

books and their covers & a glimpse of fame

I was down in Seville at the weekend, at the Feria del Libro, for a cuentacuentos session and book signing.

Opposite Casa Pilatos, Seville — Seville: cool and green in the morning

The story-telling was on the Saturday morning and the guys from the bookshop who had invited me warned me not to expect a big audience; apparently 11:30 is considered early in Seville.

Of course, people go to bed very late – the women in the next room to me in the hotel clearly didn’t go out till after 11:00 on the Friday night and came back at about 4:30am. It seems odd, though, that the best part of the day – first thing after the sun gets up and while it’s all still fresh and cool – should be wasted. Particularly as, by lunch time, Seville heat can be suffocating.
Continue reading “books and their covers & a glimpse of fame”