spring air shopping mall travellator
laundromat building site -pedometer
head held high
spring air shopping mall travellator
laundromat building site -pedometer
head held high
A few weeks ago, I attended a short course on flash nonfiction, seeking inspiration how to flesh out some narrative pieces I want to include into an ethnography of 80,000 words-to-be.
What became clear though, and yes, it did arrive with a flash of ‘aha’ – was not about the flesh but how different a piece sits in itself depending on the title you give it. And surely, the title is the bit least relying on inspiration. It needs to be chosen rationally, to give an overview or a clue, a summary even a way ‘tell them what you are going to tell them’ kind of introduction. Or doesn’t it?
Again and again, it takes a leap of faith – to jump into inspired mode like the writer who said, I only write when I am inspired and I see to it that I am inspired every morning at 8.
Now, I am certainly not a morning person, but I guess I get the idea. It is the jump from 0 to 1. And it is always into the unknown. Unless you are a person of religious faith, then you have to untie all the knots first, the ones you have been tied up in since you were little. Before you can even look down and decide whether you want to jump.
But these knots can be just as tight for a non-religious child: At least part of the child has to believe the person who cares for them, even if they are horrible. If that’s the case, hug the disassociated part very tenderly only not to scare them – they might go out of their mind. Not until they are thawn out a bit, at least.
A while back, I met up with a friend I might have been childhood sweetharts with, even as we only met when I was not quite forty. 30 years on, we opened windows for eachother that will now never close.
It took the best part of 3 years – back and forth, fighting like cat and dog at times. I would do anything for him but the one thing he thought was unavoidable – that I accept his authority.
Until he knew not to – aha. Still tried to close the window again, out of habit, but noticed quickly: Not any more.
Now, I still have not got a title for what happened and – don’t even know how to celebrate: We both won. I need to let my pen, my fingers on the key board run ahead of me and follow their strange authority. Inspired.
Reader, I married him – might be a title, if it was that kind of friendship.
referring to old friends new
from 20 years ago – I learn
elders are gone
engrossed in manuscript most of the day
exhausted my grey matter, files closing –
there is small owl greeting me.
http://play.magneticpoetry.com/poem/Poet/kit/111310/?h=2fd70f304017cc271c6b6c1cbf587f87
alas, I did a much cheerier even sensual one this morning and it got lost in cyberspace. So there.
can you believe it –
near the railway track
far – a small owl,
not a dog
lured into the park
radiant sun finally –
frost bites my hands
“We are all broken. That is how the light gets in.” (EH)
light in all –
broken
to let in
wild rose bush beaming
ealy sun against back wall –
I still need to grow
birds full chorus before dusk
leafy suburb – one cyclist lost
dull skies
http://play.magneticpoetry.com/poem/Original/kit/109475
my first attempt with the original kit
grace bent backwards
to religion learned priest
not relented to learning
grace reaches beyond
his learning to
the heart
of the world
after my encouraging feedback from the zine nr 7, I shall endeavour to contribute monthly; that means I have to take my own key words from the news etc:
https://www.artistsrespondingto.co.uk/zine
Given my bigger writing project, this feels like practising the piano to keep my writing fingers nimble. Not that I would have a clue how to do that either.
international industry boss
becomes government advisor
in the normal way
this struck me from the news: the govt’s response to criticism of the process; even in expertmental haiku I aim to juxtapose universal with specific and surprise the reader, so with this one I am not nearly there ; nota bene: govt corruption is NOT to be presented as a universal
I could include this in a series to get the context right, but what could I do with the haiku itself?
hiding in the normal process
industry boss turns
government advisor
or
industry boss as government
advisor: the normal process –
hiding
auf allen Wegen…
will ich
sie alle
erloesen
segments as remembered of a German translation of Buddhist 4 Vows, as heard in a secular Western meditation group, in German
not an escape
not an excuse
not making up
not constructing
but diving
retrieving
taking hold of
what might
otherwise
escape
attention
in the strange wait between diagnosis and therapy, not expecting much …
http://play.magneticpoetry.com/poem/Poet/kit/108977/?h=d41d8cd98f00b204e9800998ecf8427e
better
a break
in your career
than in
your spine
(found poem: Senior German Actor Armin Mueller-Stahl)