Yesterday, at about 10.45pm, I recorded my first poem. Well, that’s not strictly true: a lovely BBC Sound engineer in Manchester did it for me.
At NO POINT in my planning was there provision to get anything other than a mention in passing for this project. It wasn’t about recognition, after all, just to give back to my home town, which I’ve now done with some style. To talk to one of the Project founders, and a poet in residence, was a brilliantly unexpected bonus. It took that Guardian mention and knocked it out of sight. I’m gonna be thanking these people in dispatches for quite some time to come.
EVERYTHING that’s changed my course this year has come from a willingness to be vulnerable, to place mind and body in situations that were previously frightening. The knock on effects from this are only beginning to register, but in last night’s recording I can hear my own fear, nervousness in voice that comes from being exposed to an audience. In time, I’ll get my head around it. It will get better with practice.
All these things will improve with practice.
Here’s the poem I read on the show.
Two Tree Island ::
I came here to begin
next chapter’s transformation
remade through other’s imagery,
earth to sky,
adheres, presenting unexpectedly
grubby printed brilliance, webbed feet
pointing path, open silt bar
my usual; steaming,
self abstained, regained.
I asked for a sign;
Pier’s glorious insertion, failures forgotten
thousand harsh rejections sail away
masts of possibility remain,
into grateful eyes.
Bleak, hoarse failure recedes
green runway, as above, first plane
mumbling to trains.
I really hope this isn’t the last time I read a poem on national radio. This is a pretty high benchmark to exceed.
I do so love a challenge.