poem – Page 32 – don't confuse the narrator

poetry & plasterwork

Yesterday, I went to a breakfast meeting at Stoneleigh Abbey.

We ate in the saloon, whose ceiling features this magnificent plaster relief depicting Hercules being welcomed by the gods after his death:

I visited the Abbey a couple of years ago and went on a tour of the house; sadly, the photos I took then are currently on a computer that won’t boot, so I only have a couple of pictures I took on my phone as discreetly as possible during the meeting.
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late again

Birmingham library exterior with owl (owl parade)

I had already written yesterday’s post – four days late for Candlemas – when I realised that it was National Libraries Day and I probably should be writing about that. Instead, I am doing so today, which is why this post is “late again”.

When I realised, it was nearly four in the afternoon, by which time I suspect most UK libraries are closed on a Saturday. (I certainly know of at least one local independent library whose Saturday opening hours are only 10 till one. I wonder how they crammed a whole day’s celebration into a mere three hours.)

Out of interest, I checked to see what the opening hours of my local library were and was surprised – and impressed – to find that it’s open until 17:30 most weekdays.
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shadow play

I was never any good at art when I was a child: I think I stopped actually looking at things and relied on too many pre-conceptions about what I expected to see. For example, shadows were black. Well, I suppose I thought they might be different shades of grey, but they certainly weren’t blue, pink and orange.

I suspect painting black shadows is a beginner’s mistake, like using clichés in poems instead of trying to look beyond the expectations and see things anew.
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three for the price of one

I’ve been stuck indoors most of the week with a stinking cold, so haven’t had the chance to go looking for inspiration for things to write, and I haven’t taken any any serendipitous photos.

I don’t think I’ve ever written a poem about the common cold, and my head is too fuzzy to write one now, which means I’ve been racking my brains all day about what to post.

Then I remembered this photo of Hamlet. Although we all know he is actually about to break into speech – “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio…” – he looks as uninspired as I have been feeling.

At one point, I thought that would have to do for today, but, on the off-chance I’d find some ideas, I went on clicking link after link.
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passing time

When I don’t know what to write, I usually find a picture to post. So, not having got up early enough this morning to take any worthwhile pictures of the first snowfall of the season, I went browsing through recent photos and came across this image taken a few weeks ago at the re-vamped New Street Station, Birmingham.

Yellow lounge. New Street station, Birmingham

At the time I was struck by how inappropriately labelled the area was. The sign says “Yellow Lounge”, and yet there is very little yellow in view and it looks nothing like I would expect a lounge to look.
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