2020 Week 20 Poetry: Anger

In the past few weeks, strange things have begun to transpire in the poetic parts of my brain. It’s not a worry, far from it: daily practice and a new openness to moving words into different spaces that were previously unexplored is producing some fascinating new combinations. Undoubtedly this will continue to be actively influenced by the introduction of video content into the equation.

I have an idea for my first full collection.

There’s a new pamphlet in the works.

What a time to be creative, and lucky to be alive.


Anger

What began, only remains sacrificed with ungodly zeal, altered outlooks reveal disquiet,
unexpectedly adroit, passively regressive understanding, Zen demanding.

Insidious fuse, unconsciously lit, don’t think she’ll get away with it: scarlet womankind,
sexuality unwinds, leisurely descent, decent laments loss of splattered purity.

Anger explodes, abode decimated, consecrated ground shaking; liberties taking quickest
path, highest land abandoned, no longer sacrosanct.

As her lust settles, desired reanimates, immediate placation of destructive situation...
everything resisted; actively assisted returns to movement, circumstance.

Such drama, crisis cavitates creating pressure, tension’s taut suspension; what was end
begins renewed; gentlest caress quietly begins redress.

Strong

It’s time for your weekly update of The Poetry Experiment, which has now come to encompass not only a general reaction to Lockdown, but responses to specific COVID-related events. There’s a lot been done in the last week as well, which is reassuring when I’m not really in a particularly productive place right now. It can’t be helped: we’ve lost a family member this week, and there’s been some other drama to deal with.

It’s time to focus on positives.

Number of Poems Written: Eight.

monkey typing

I made myself last week sit down and plan how this ‘story’ is going to pan out, because that’s what this is. There’s a period of reflection before everything went mad, a focus on three days within that period, and a series of emotions I’ve felt as a result of the entire event. Poems are emerging quite organically as a result: of the eight we have thus far, there’s one at the start, five in the middle and two at the end, making a basic framework.

I’m pretty pleased with what’s been produced thus far too, and how things are fitting into the ‘play’ I’ve imagined this could end up becoming. The next stage will be to read through everything and start focussing on the feelings and descriptions I think are missing, that form part of my lockdown experience and should as a result be recorded. I’ve set myself the notional target of the end of this month to have all the pieces in place.

Emotional Investment: High.

goodmorning

We have not as yet reached the ‘everything sucks, I hate myself’ part of this project. That’s always a massive bonus, that if I can get the majority of the hard graft done before paranoia and anxiety set in, so much the better. It helps considerably having Patreon as a constantly running set of deadlines to hit going forward, so there’s always this background awareness of what needs to happen, and has to take place.

As a displacement activity today, in an attempt to see if I can get my brain to do anything else but mourn a loss and grieve over other things, I’ll be pulling poetry together for some online submissions. As these aren’t being specially aimed for, as is the case with this work, that should lessen the emotional impact of worry over whether my stuff was ‘good enough’ It is the recycling task I should do more of going forward.


You can expect an update on progress in the next week.

Love’s Great Adventure

Today’s been all about getting dragged, kicking and screaming, outside your comfort zones. I have pulled some Patreon work because, after due consideration, it wasn’t good enough. I’ve been writing experimental poetry all afternoon and it’s making me feel really uncomfortable. Oh yes, and then I laid my life bare in quite an unexpected fashion via Social media…

I’d not anticipated how hard this would be until the weekend, when part of my general discomfort was around just how much of my past would be hauled up for general inspection. As it happens, there’s a lot to be said for these choices being made as the right ones, when it would have been an awful lot easier to pick from some generic, obvious alternatives. This way, I will be challenged.

These first two polls are now up and running, and the results will be known in 48 hours. I’ll throw them about a bit later today and tomorrow too, just to see if I can garner a decent range of responses. After all, you never know who might pick these up and ping them into the Void for me… and it means that the results will end up as a genuine surprise. I’m not checking the polls until they’re done.

Once I know the results, I’ll fill in my graphic, and then we can get on with the business of writing. The plan is to have all six drabbles up in their own separate area by the end of the month: if this is successful, we’ll repeat the process with some new things later in the year. As always, it’s about working out whether your content is interesting enough to attract new people not only to your work, but also to potentially stick around as an audience…

2020 Week 18 Poetry: Sow

Poetry is having a rest next week, because I’m pretty rammed in May as it is and taking on too much, I have discovered, is a sure-fire way to burn me out. Therefore, here’s my last bit of stream of consciousness for a while. I am proud of these as a group of five, and we’ll probably revisit/revise this lot a bit later in the year. It’s useful to allow your brain space to shift and move.

It is amazing what happens when you relax and let words flow unhindered…


Sow

Here we are, staring disconsolately, fallow time between main course and dessert, lost in relationship’s parched weeds, future; tense, relationship.

Two plated, hot then cold: between minimal, extravagance once expected, now deflated, content remains unknown, grown, soon cast aside.

Fork civility, spoon-fed platitudes scraped, pushing scraps abound, innate remnants, sitting tenants pile pointless platitudes, resentful moods.

There we go, separate bills, fallow lives, consequences reaped; to sow once more, swipe left field-hand, season begins again.

Salt Water Sound

Occasionally there are moments in your life where it becomes apparent that safe and easy are no longer cutting it. It’s roughly equivalent to plateauing  during a weight loss plan, or realising that all those exercise classes are just giving you somewhere to go, but not really offering anything significant in terms of progress. Unlocking ability can be tough for those of us who struggle with our feelings in the first place.

I have reached the point where something needs to give.

thorsmiles

Therefore, for my next big submission I’m trying something really, radically different: so far out of my normal comfort zones as to be a proper struggle. I’m not even sure at this point what I’m doing either, except in the last 48 hours that’s changed: an idea was begun with, and now concepts are beginning to crystallise. If this is how you do grown up writing, it’s a bit less cohesive than I’d like.

However, new experiences are occuring: there I am, washing up, when an entire passage just falls out of my head without prompting. That’s not happened for a very long time and so, it would appear that The Experiment (as it will now be referred to) seems to be at least making the brain function in a differently productive fashion. Where we go, and how it works out, we will talk about as it happens.

The Experiment does now have a name, plus three poems in it’s collection.

Red Dust

Lockdown has affected people in different ways: I’m discovering that many friends are missing their work routines so much they’ve simply recreated different versions of them at home. There’s one who is, I’m sure, looking at my heart rate belt stats and taking that as a personal affront, because BOY is she pushing me to work harder right now. Then there are those who, despite all this free time, can’t find ways to avoid the inevitable.

Even as the world disintegrates, some stuff cannot be ignored any longer.

giant_kitten

For me, life is pretty decent right now. The problem, inevitably, will be catching up from having been effectively poleaxed for the last two days of last week, but if it matters enough I’ll hunker down, it always happens. Sure there’s still those two things still to sort on the website which keep getting shifted down and across the To Do List, but that’s always been the way this things work out.

To remain happy, and keep momentum going, there will need to be some poetry revisited soon. I’d assumed it would be something old, but more and more there’s an itch, somewhere between my metaphorical shoulder blades. Maybe I should try ticking someone else’s box this time, and not just my own. Perhaps, even if I fail, it would be worth stepping right outside of the comfort zones and doing something truly frightening.

Except, in some ways, it really isn’t.

notthefuture

It’s like I’m living, some days, in the 2020 version of this 2017 article. People invent fresh terror to pile onto existing stupidity whilst all I’d like is less stuff and more time to write. We don’t need more Internet of Things, but less consumerism and a greater understanding of how to make humanity cope with futures where touching each other could end up as fatal.

Mostly, I need to redefine what I consider as appropriate validation in 2020.

2020 Week 17 Poetry: Far

I have absolutely no idea how this happened at all. It just fell out of my head in five self made-pieces, last taking prompts from previous four. It’s odd sometimes how these things just happen.

It’s a long way from where I was on Monday to where I am now.


Far

There to here’s strained gasp away
emerging resignation
pain never leaves anything, well
separation anxiety
stitched within this soul.

Here was now, a breath ago
hidden panic, exposed
juxtaposed across decades
disturbs uneasy timeline
stuck tightly to my soul.

Redefinition, emerging
greater confidence, self-defined
unexpected truth unwinds
experience repeated
expletive, summarily repeated.

Then to now, alteration;
recognition what before, no longer
adequate observation
delayed participation
reassign priorities, regroup.

There to here’s return to form
hidden panic assuaged:
unexpected, belief transcends
delayed, anticipation
emergent; new direction.

Stronger

I’ve felt comfortable enough in the last few days to start looking at writing submission poetry again: mostly as I’ll be starting a new project for Patreon beginning next month.

One high-quality poem a week, for twenty weeks, is currently well within mental capacity. If I were a ‘famous’ poet, contributing to something like WRITE where we are NOW would be a nigh-on impossible ask at present. There’s far, far too much anger around the pandemic, nowhere near the levels of objectivity required to be considered as relevant or valid. I grasp what is needed to be considered as adult.

I understand now, perhaps more than ever before, the gulf between my world and the one I often aspire to. Therefore, there needs to be a structured approach to those feelings in able to properly quantify their significance. There is an idea on that front, however, for a contest that closes in August. If those words don’t succeed, that will become my own physical collection to sell in 2021.

I’m already looking forward to the next opportunity.

proudthumbsup

I also realise there’s a level of ignorance that needs to be addressed in relation to the mechanics of poetry: there’s been words here before on how I couldn’t explain adequately what a sonnet is without looking up the details. I was reading a submission guideline yesterday which referenced collection sizes with terms that weren’t even possible to Google, in order to understand what they meant.

There’s no chance when I’m up against stuff like this. That’s so far away from my world and life experiences as to be pointless for consideration. My journey, the inevitable mirror reflecting personal experiences, don’t include such places and people. I get that now, whereas before it would make me angry or frustrated. There’s no point in trying to become something you are not for validation that ultimately isn’t necessary.

These are harsh lessons to learn, but have to happen.

femalemicdrop2

There’s a pandemic collection in me, but not like anybody else’s because I’m asthmatic, already riddled with anxiety before all this began. This is not some academic dissection of the realities that did not previously exist. I was scared back in December, watched the chaos play out over months with a grim realisation life was in more danger than had probably ever previously been the case. I still am.

My pandemic collection will be a very frightened beast indeed.

Beautiful Noise

I’m still having trouble with a corrupted text file from last week, which is why at some point (probably tomorrow) you’ll see the rest of the Dr Who Fanfic appear on the site. Whilst I was sorting out these bits of my past, I’ve been enjoying an project doing the rounds: #SixFanarts, where Twitter Artists are using their own interests in fandom to draw classic characters from the places that have influenced their existences.

It occured to me this would be a great thing to do with fanfiction, and as it’s been a while since I flexed my creative muscles in that direction, it’s high time that changed. Therefore, for May, we’ll be making some interesting decisions using Twitter Polls, hashtags and graphics packages. I have plenty of shows that mattered a great deal to me growing up. Time to give the past an appropriate moment in the sun.

#sixfanfics_subjects

It’s simple, really: I’ll be posting some threads, starting next week, on both my ‘work’ and ‘personal’ Twitter, asking people to suggest either a) a TV show b) a game or c) a film from the six particular decades listed that I can use as basis for a drabble. This does also remind me that I’ve been alive during seven decades, which is not something to dwell upon, but it does grant a massive scope for potential.

I’ve had a number of conversations in the last few weeks that have highlighted stuff I’d forgotten about in TV terms, especially from the 1970’s, so it seems like a good idea to open discussion a bit to see if there’s anything else that has been lost to the mists of time. After all the votes get collated, I’ll present you with the goods. Can’t say fairer than that. It also gives me summat useful to concentrate on other than poetry.

talentindrinking

Let’s see where this new adventure takes us, shall we?

A Change is Gonna Come

Stuff’s happened quite quickly today: let’s get right to it 😀

This seems like a solid move, in my head: more people can come in and become part of the family, whilst the highest Tier is now cheaper (and hopefully a little more attractive as a result.) Whether of course the person who asked me for this change was expecting it to happen and will now subsequently sign up is another matter entirely. The logic works regardless, and was quite easy to move things around to accommodate a change in focus.

I think it is important, especially in the current climate, to show a measure of flexibility when it comes to accommodating change. It also gives me some thoughts on how to work the upcoming content planned into slightly more attractive packages. This weekend would normally be time off but I’m ready to try and work through some new ideas. We’ll talk about this in more detail next week.

nature4

For now, however, it’s time for some aggressive marketing…

Subscribe to Patreon Here