Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Word Wednesday: 30 Poems in 30 days


So my dearest writing idol and mentor (oh my gosh even after all this time I still can't believe I can truthfully wirte this sentence), Francesca Lia Block, has begun a fabulous new challange for all of you who love to write poetry, or for those of you who don't but feel as though you're in a bit of writing rut!
Francesca is writing one unedited poem per day for the next 30 days! Today is Day Six, and although I haven't been posting my poems on her comment threads, I have been reading hers, those of my writing tribe and whoever else has posted in her comment feed, and boy, is there some phenomenal work coming out of this or what?!

You can check out all the poems Francesca's Blog; I've been writing mine in a notebook, because the nature of my work schedual means I'm not near a computer all the time. I wanted to share at least a few of them on this blog, but I thought that instead of just typing them out, I would scan in a few note book pages, so you could see the the words as they came straight from my brain, warts and all!
There is something so liberating about writing like this, straight from the mind through the pen and onto the page (though I have had to restrain myself from editing bits here and there). Number Three is my favourite!

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Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Word Wednesday: Poetry Mixtape Issue One

So today is the first of August! That means that there is only one month till spring, and ten weeks until Lovely and I leave for Europe! It's also the launch day for Poetry Mixtape! Hooray!

Poetry Mixtape is my new project that combines poetry, origami, collage, and a lot of washi tape! Part One of the Issue One, which I have themed Wonder, is up at poetrymixtape.tumblr.com now! I have to say, I'm rather proud of what I've created; it does come off as a little rough, but I wanted it to have a handmade, imperfect asthetic, and thus didn't edit the pages on photoshop.

As always, feedback is more than welcome! You can leave your comments here and at the Poetry Mixtape blog, and if you would like to submit your own tiny poetry zine, please don't hesitate to ask!






Sunday, July 15, 2012

Poetry Mixtape: A New Project!

So I have a little bit of announcement to make, about a project that I dreamed up whilst rearranging my collage wall/ listening to the Portlandia themed Nerdist Podcast/reading countless articles about zine making in Rookie Mag. As you can see, I'm pretty easily influenced.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of making something out of nothing; I suppose that's why I enjoy writing so much, because I love creating characters and worlds for them to live in out of all the bizarre, seemingly nonsensical happenings of inside my mind. It's a very empowering feeling, to know that you have it in you to create something, something you admire, something you think is beautiful, something you can call your own without question.
In this instance, I've decided on the approach of taking something and turning it into something else, transforming materials into something so different to what they started out as, it seems as though they really might have sprung from some strange pocket of energy in the atmosphere.

I know this sounds a little pretentious, but I have this incredibly, almost exhaustingly strong need to create something, every single day. It's almost gotten to a point of OCD where if I haven't done anything creative, whether it be write twenty pages of my novel draft, or an idea for a new piece or project on the back of a receipt or a metcard on my way home from work, I start to feel anxious. I start to feel like I'm wasting time, and that makes me even more anxious, and then I waste more time on anxiety, rather than actually coming up with ideas that could lead to awesome creative projects. It's a vicious cycle, and for some of you it may sound a little bit familiar.

Poetry Mixtape was born from such a scenario; an idea that sprouted from my deep seeded need to be creating more frequently, to bring a little bit of my focus back to my much neglected poetry, and the desire to have a physical manifestation of my words.

It is a combination of three of my many major creative outlets; poetry, DIY, and collages. I am a very visually stimulated person, and can spend hours staring at things; paintings, photographs, even whatever is happening outside my window. People can often mistake this for vaguness, and they aren't always wrong, but I promise you, that most of the time my mind is busily working, trying to figure out how I can preserve the memory of this thing I have become so enamoured with.
It would be wonderful if I had any sort of artistic talent, because I could take all these beautiful influences and the visions they have evoked to create my own beauty; but I can hardly draw to save myself. I have no idea what to do with a paintbrush. Even the photographs I take cannot do justice to what I see before me, and what I can see in my mind. I just get frustrated and put the Nashville filter on them (instagram anyone?).

So, instead of dwelling on what I can do, I asked myself, what can I do? I can take images from old books and magazines, whether it be old dictionaries, Yen, or Vogue, or National Geographic, or even an old copy of Harvest Literary Magazine that I picked up from the Op Shop for $2, and use them to make my own art. I am pretty handy with a pair of scissors and a glue stick. And I can write.

That's all well and good, I hear you say, but where does the mixtape part come in?

Well! Each week, I'm going to put aside an afternoon or evening to create one of these tiny poetry zines, which will consist of 8 pages, and contains one poem, and however many accompanying mini collages I can come up with that I feel represents said poem the best. Each month will have a theme; I've already picked my first one but I'm not going to share it with you yet (oh the suspense!). I will however, give you a sneak peek at the cover of my very first instalment.




 At the end of each month, I think I'm going to take the four tiny note books, and sew the bindings together to make one larger monthly poetry zine! Because just like musical mixtapes, I think it works best when there is a theme involved, however stretched or thinly veiled or convoluted it is. I've also thought of making copies of the tiny zines, and hiding them in magazines all throughout the city, in the hope that someone might find it, and like it, and keep it for their own. Tiny Guerilla Zines! Huzzah!

As you may know, I've also become quite passionate about the way out society consumes things, so I have one rule for this project; only the words can be brand new. The base materials must be recycled; the books, the paper and the magazines used for collaging. I've decided that little embellishments, like stickers and washi tape are ok (because it's almost impossible to find them at the op shop), but that's it; not only do I want to give some of the thousands and thousands of magazines (most of which go into landfill) a new lease on life, it pushes me to kind of think outside the box in terms of finding patterns and pictures that work together, rather than just going down to Lincraft and pick out some pretty scrapbooking paper. 

The first instalment will be released in full on my new Poetry Mixtape blog, where you will be able to read the whole zine cover to cover, collages included! The first of four will be launched on the 1st of August! What do you think of the cover? I really like it; it is very pink, but with the right combination of colours, pink isn't as offensive to me as I once thought. I'm starting to learn that liking some shades of the colour pink is not the gateway drug to the Fashion Club (I've also been watching a lot of Daria).

So if this sounds like something you would be interested in, please, have a peruse, share what you like, and if you're so inclined, try it yourself! I would love to see what a little slice of your creative world looks like!


Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Word Wednesday

I'm on my way from work to a friends for pizza and a Lord of the Rings Two Towers marathon (we're watching the extended edition so I would classify the who movie as a marathon!), but I didn't want to miss another Word Wednesday! So I'm gonna try something new, and write a poem on this train, right now, unedited! I don't know how good it's going to be, but I'm kind of excited to see!
Ok, here goes!

Honey don't

I want to say that
It's too late
But time is broken
In two, three, four
Cracked like the sky
Open, and it all poured
Out and I now I can't
Find which parts of our life
Go where

I want to take the colours
Of the sky,
Bruise purple hot pink burnt orange
Gold
Into my veins
And taste them like flowers
That grow out of the fertile humidity
And if it's raining
A sunset is just wet pollen
From crushed flowers smeared
Across the skyline

Your love tastes like this
To me sometimes
If I bite my tongue




Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Word Wednesday - The Compass Needle




For me, collaging is a kind of therapy; all I need is a glue stick, some scissors, a few National Geographic magazines and some tunes, and I go into a sort of weird, peaceful trance. And I love the idea of taking all the things I've collected over the years, bits and pieces of other peoples art that I love and want to pay tribute to, and make them into something beautiful that's also my own.
I made this collage from magazines, namely Yen and National Geographic, the cover of an old Hotspot guide from 2010, and an old Glassons catalogue from a couple of autumns ago. I really like this one, and I ended up writing a poem to go with it.

The Compass Needle 


The needle
points north west, casts
a shadow like a spell
on sands to make them shift
underfoot
to make mountains heave
and separate
to swallow up lonely travellers
searching for pieces of
themselves in the dark

my heart is cavernous
the chambers filled with blood
lacking oxygen, blue
the colour of the sky
unnatural, but quite pretty
nonetheless
I cannot walk far for long
periods of time
but I bleed azure and it
causes quite a stir around the
campfire

I follow the paths carved
into the sand by the
shadow of the needle
I come to the home
of some wild friends
dressed as long lost
humans, in the hues and
patterns of forgotten
peoples
creatures surrounded
by creatures, commanding them
playing
music
the one with hair the colour
that my blood should be
offers me his peace pipe
I inhale the smoke into the
caverns of my body
and exhale cloud after cloud
of delicate lace

I want to fill those caverns up with
beats and melodies
until there is no room for blood
blue or red or otherwise
I want to stir the dust with my feet
and absorb all the colours on
the birdwing
I want to take flight! Please, creators,
commanders of the creatures, won’t you grant
me this one wish?!
I’ve heard it’s almost what love
feels like
and I want to know love
and I don’t
My heart is wild but
my mind is tied
not to love,
or to religion, but to
the compass needle
and the spell it casts

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Word Wednesday - A Long Dress



Word Wednesday! I stumbled across this just now, and seeing it is the last Word Wednesday of World Poetry Month, I thought it extremely fitting. I love the imagery of this piece, when I read it I envision long skirts in dusty corridors with high ceilings, disapearing around corners.  

A Long Dress 
Gertrude Stein 

That is the current that makes machinery,
that makes it crackle,
what is the current that presents a long line and a necessary waist.
What is this current.
What is the wind, what is it.

Where is the serene length,
it is there and a dark place is not a dark place,
only a white and red are black, only a yellow and green are blue,
a pink is scarlet, a bow is every color. A line distinguishes it.
A line just distinguishes it.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Word Wednesday - Spaces

Word Wednesday! Here's another poem I wrote yesterday afternoon.  Are you guys doing anything for world poetry month?


Spaces

Warm fingers on cold spines
Of books
Of human bones
Contorting - strange shapes
Reminding me of the origami cranes
We tried to send down the river
Before their wings absorbed the water
Paper bodies torn like wet silk
They sank
To their graves of river stones
And cherry blossoms

I cried
All afternoon
I was only a child

I think of this when autumn comes
When I feel your warm hands reaching from
behind
to envelope my pale frame
Vulnerable as a single pink petal
Limp as damp paper

I think of space
(Instead of that other thing)
And spaces
The stretch from nebula to constallation
The reach from star to star
The distances travelled by man
That span countries, oceans, planets
And then
The air between my parted lips
Pockets that separate my bones
The gap between my left thigh
and my right thigh – a canyon almost
Your hand and my pelvis

It almost becomes easier
If I just keep thinking 
about stars
Knowing that they will carry on
shining so brightly after death  
keeps me safe

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Word Wednesday: Lost Hours

Happy Word Wednesday! I hope you have caught up on your Planet Word episodes! If not don't worry, I'm only up to episode 3; it's all about swears! I'm only 15 mins into it, but so far it's just as facinating as the last!

But on to this week. Did you know that April is World Poetry Month? How exciting! I love poetry, but I have to admit I've been neglecting the genre a little bit lately in favour of short stories. Still, World Poetry Month is as good excuse as any (in fact it's probably the best excuse) to get back into it!

Here's a poem I wrote just now, sitting outside in the lovely cool autumn sunshine, eating cream cheese on crackers and drinking Lemon Lime and Bitters ( I figured one in the afternoon is just a little too early for a gin and tonic). It's my little lament to the death of summer for a another year, although I do love autumn just as much, if not more. I hope you enjoy it!

Lost Hours

It starts to get dark
at the beginning of April
darkness folds around me like the
furling up of orchid petals
like the closing of hands
I'm caught in the dome of some god's
barely touching palms
and though time cannot stray from that ever
continuing line
it feels like there is less of it
to take from each day

the worst thing for a person like me
a young person
is to know that you have less time
we clutch at the minutes, and the hours
and the days as if we were starving
and they were edible
they would taste like red liquorice
pistachios, broccoli and ash
ans we would fill our mouths with time until our
bellies swell and we become cavernous
with no sense of urgency for anything
other than the feast

It is the end of summer
and the habits of those who equate time to
the number of daylight hours
begin to retract
they move quicker, more erraticly
they are less likely to talk to strangers
they don't leave their cars parked out on the street
the old pull the darkness around their hollow bones
to keep out the cold
and the young dive into it, devouring lost hours
they squirrel them away under their skirts and leather jackets
eating them up, saving them for later


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