NaPoWriMo 26: Stories and/or Plans and/or Ideas

This became the nickname for my Mum, so my step-dad made her an actual Mothership logo - AWESOIME.

This became the nickname for my Mum, so my step-dad made her an actual Mothership logo – AWESOIME.

 

Here’s my Day 26 offering, from Jo Bell’s lovely prompt to write a sonnet (or something sonnet-like) about your parents, distributing the lines across your Mum (ABABCD on Sandy, then), then your Dad (CDEFEF on Jeremy, then) and finally, you – for the last couplet (GG on me, then).

It was a fairly quick effort – been a busy day at work! But I managed to keep to the structure – and I hope made it a positive and celebratory piece, to contrast with yesterday’s Picnic Ballad.

I hope you enjoy it and get some insight into both of my parents – and consequently, about me. (And if either of them is reading this, I hope none of it seems unjust or unkind 😉 )

 

Stories and/or Ideas and/or Plans

 

The Mothership: an endless story told

like growing hair heroic silver-grey

and given to the air. She does enfold

each waif and stray; narrates each passing day

 

in technicolour. Even through dark acts

her voice can send out parcels to lost hands.

And he, a voice of malleable facts,

whose mind is full of ideas and/or plans

 

or more the first, or half of the latter.

So given to the earth, so given to

burying in objects and a smatter-

ing of  blushed-untolds, or prides never-knew.

 

And I: am I story, plan, or idea?

I am all three: part told, unfurling, here.

NaPoWriMo 24: Dust Across the Beam

Hyde Park Picture House: 100 in 2014!

As you may have noticed, things have been a bit cinematic on my blog during NaPoWriMo.

I’m reading a few poems (including my poem about the Invisible Cinema walking tour, from earlier in the month) on Sunday morning at an event to mark the centenary of Hyde Park Picture House. And here is a piece I wrote based on an earlier prompt from Canal Laureate Jo Bell, which was to write a poem of Welcome.

So, to celebrate the Picture House’s centenary, I wrote a welcome for its next 100 years – and here it is:

 

Twenty-One Thirteen

or, Dust Across the Beam

 

Welcome, twenty-one thirteen:

may your bright skies usher in

the twenty-first century’s pigeons –

their future-coos upon the roof’s tiles

(not nesting in seats, feathering aisles).

 

Welcome, twenty-one thirteen:

the elaborate plaster flowers which grow

from the walls are the germinating magic bean

of all the cinemas to which we can no longer go.

A furrow of many bulbs (and most no longer glow).

 

Welcome, twenty-one thirteen:

may the red curtains of each romance

open and close, close and open

on the clumsy ill-fated dance

of faltering fake yawns

and thousands of missed chances.

 

Welcome, twenty-one thirteen:

may never the popcorn of cinema dreams

be trodden under giant flat-screen feet

confining chorus gasp, behind-you screams

to closed-curtain houses on sparse streets.

 

Welcome, twenty-one thirteen

and all the seconds in between:

may the 26-flicker of each second’s cell

combine with the terabytes of files, to tell

stories as many as dust across the beam.

For stories are light and light is the spell.

 

So welcome, twenty-one thirteen:

may all your future screens,

even in desperate certificate eighteens

times contain only some scenes

of the mildest peril.

NaPoWriMo 5: Unprompted Art Poetry

 

Paul Jenkins’ ‘Phenomena Secret Cargo’ – but not as we saw it in the gallery…Which is right?

Day 6 of NaPoWriMo – I’m still brewing a cinquain from yesterday (which are HARD!) but here is a non-prompt piece inspired by a visit to the gallery in Cardiff (Wales, where I am today). I’m writing overlooking the Wales Millennium Centre (with its Gwyneth Lewis quote writ large on the front: IN THESE STONES HORIZONS SING) from a lovely cafe called Kemi’s in Cardiff Bay.

So my NaPoWriMo efforts might come a bit out of sequence (I am one behind!) – and that fits rather well with today’s atemporal slightly-experimental back-to-front work. (I’m not sure it does ‘work’ yet – but in the spirit of keeping on keeping on for NaPoWriMo, here it is anyway…)

A brief explanation: a friend and I (hello Rachel if you are reading!) went to this exhibition at the Wales National Museum Gallery and both really enjoyed the picture (above, kind of). But when we Googled it, it was upside down. Or the one in the gallery was. And really, really different because of it – not the same painting at all.

So I wrote an upside-down art poem about the incident. Here it is:

 

After seeing Phenomena Secret Cargo by Paul Jenkins

or, Up Way Which?

 

We part ways

and on my screen,

a satellite-line paints itself,

writes itself, unseen

blue, through the city

to this bay.

 

So we go to the desk

to ask a lady beneath an i

if she knew why

the Internet said

it should go up

the other way?

 

Drinking tea, we talk about writing

and find the picture, Googling on

gravity-sensing devices. But the

thumbnails show it upside-down:

Cargo Secret Phenomena.

 

In the top gallery, we talk about

Yves Klein Blue and layers

of paint in original Rothko. Then

Phenomena Secret Cargo

by Paul Jenkins. It looks like wings,

we say, like butterflies, like feathers.

How the brush sweeps up:

like it could fly.

 

One artist had refracted the stairs

in kaleidoscopic photographs –

(‘to make us question public space’)

curving up the walls.

 

Back through time,

we take pictures of

Mammoths, in panoramic mode

(which I just showed you how to use)

then make our way to the gallery,

strolling through Geology.