house of cards

The second image that I wanted to talk about from my conversation with the poet Joan Margarit dealt with the writing process. (See yesterday’s post for the first.)

Joan described how the poet often writes early drafts of a poem to include more than is needed. We cram stuff in just to see if it fits. Subsequent drafts entail removing bits carefully, like pulling out cards one by one from a card house.

When the structure comes tumbling down, you know you’ve found the point at which you should have stopped.
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national poetry day

Well, in the UK, at least, it’s a national day and there’s plenty about it in all the national newspapers. The Guardian, for example, reports a selection of news and associated snippets.

This year’s theme is “heroes and heroines”. I can’t think of any poems in my files that fit that theme, and I certainly can’t produce one to order. So here’s one which refers to the ex-prime minister – definitely not a hero of mine. The poem was published in the South Bank Poetry Magazine a while back.
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in the pink

I was taking photos of sweet chestnuts the other day, but having transferred the pictures to the computer, it seems I have a problem. The sky really wasn’t that colour at all, but that’s the way the camera saw it, which probably means it’s time I got a new camera.

Taking a rosy view of things
Taking a rosy view of things

I wanted a picture to post alongside this ‘ku which is buried somewhere in a comment from this time last year.

smooth new lifeform
peeps from the belly
of a chestnut hedgehog

 
The camera has paid for itself over the years, providing the material for three published foto-reportajes as well as incidental illustrations for many other articles, including most of the photos on the blog. It’d be nice to have one a bit smaller and smarter, though.

Then again, there might be an advantage to continuing to use this one: it might help me look at the world through a rose-tinted lens.

terror incognita

mountains in the south of France
 
There is a phrase in the introduction to Heaney’s Beowulf (Faber & Faber) that caught my attention when I first read it:

“Nevertheless, the dragon has a wonderful inevitability about him and a unique glamour.”

It took me about five years before I found the poem where the idea could be used.

Of course it’s possible that speed isn’t necessary when we’re dealing with mountains, dragons and poetry.
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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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