Well today is the day – National Poetry Day. The launch of the Poetic Vision anthology was great with over 70 people in the Zoom room.
In view of the day & my attempts to get into writing more I came up with a very short, hopefully funny rhyme.
National Poetry day is today
When all the wordsmiths come out to play
And as I attempt to write a little ditty
I hope & I pray it won't sound too shitty
Creation is easier using pencil and paper
Deciphering it? Yeah that's a good caper,
Has a spider scrawled across my page?
Or is it a sign of my old age?
The muses who help relay the rhyme
Always turn up at just the wrong time
At 3am I should be asleep.
Instead of deciding which words to keep
When morning comes will I remember,
The words that came to me late September
And as I struggle to read what I wrote
I've completely forgotten that 'brilliant' quote.
I have been slacking lately, and not written much for a long time, however that has all changed.
At work, a new colleague Nick Lovell published a poetry book, ‘Ever since the Accident’, which immediately got me talking about poetry which obviously is one of my passions. He explained that there is a vibrant poetry scene in Swindon called Oooh Beehive, (not far from me & where my place of work is located), and they have monthly meetings & open mic slots where people ‘perform’ their poems. Although I was interested I didn’t think I’d be able to go along due to my anxiety, then Covid hit. Not wanting to be silenced, poetry groups internationally began holding Zoom meetings, from the safety of my home I attended a couple of them and listened in. On one of Oooh Beehives open mic’s someone wasn’t ready to perform so I volunteered to share a couple of poems. My offer was accepted and I jumped in with all 4 feet,(Dragonesses have 4 feet not just 2) I didn’t have my video on but that didn’t matter and I was welcomed with open arms.
I have since attended and performed at several open mic’s via Zoom, not just Oooh Beehive, but also Word Staffords ‘Myths & Legends’ event. I’ve also attended a few ‘slams’ but don’t feel anywhere near ready to enter them, the standards of performers are just so high.
Through Word Stafford I learned about a photo/poetry anthology that was being put together for National Poetry Day entitled Poetic Vision. People were asked to submit up to 3 photo’s by a certain deadline. Once that deadline was reached all the photo’s were put together in a Facebook folder and poets were able to chose a photo to write a poem about (not any of their own photo’s). I was amazed, and not just a little bit excited that 2 of my photo’s were selected to be included and also the poem that I wrote. National Poetry day is today 1st October and proceeds for the anthology are going towards Guide Dogs, which is a very worthy cause. Mel Wardle Woodend one of the editors of the anthology and organisers of Word Stafford is Staffordshires Poet Laureate, and the book is being published through her publishing company Dream Well Writing. The anthology even has a write up in the local press.
And so, to encourage people to buy a copy of the book, here is my contribution to the anthology.
Aspects of TimeWhat is time?Is it the passing of the sun that crosses the skyOr the span of a life to live and then die?Is it the change of the seasons that mark the yearOr the tick of a clock so loud and clear?The sun shines as it crosses the skyBringing light, giving life that grows so high. From a seed that's planted deep in the earthSprings a sunflower bright and full of mirth And as day turns to night, months follow weeksDeath follows life, and meaning it seeks.By the path of the sun we measure the timeConstant, steady, flowing like rhymeThe shadows we see scurry across the groundCreep slowly but surely without a soundThe tick and the tock of a grandfather clockMark the passing of time so we can take stockTime moves forward but does it move back?What would make it easier to trackAt times, time seems to pass so slowTick tock, stop start, it doesn’t flowAnd yet it often moves so fastWhen joyous moments just don’t last.Take a clock and break it apartTime doesn’t stop, no need to restartWhether you see it or not it moves all the whileYou don’t need to see the hands on the dialDoes it move in a straight line? Is there ever enough?Big balls of that wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.The apocalypse, doomsday, the end of the worldIs that when time becomes unfurled?The beginning of time, was that the big bang?Or was that when the angels sang?Was Einstein’s theory of relativityAn excuse to stifle our creativity?We are but cogs in the great wheel of timeLiving while waiting for our bell to chimeSpringing to life, hands meant to holdTo nurture the young and look after the oldWhen the pendulum slowly swings its lastWill the next generation remember the past?Time is what?The tick of a clock so loud and clearOr the change of the season that marks the year?Is it the span of life that lives and then diesOr the passing of the sun as it crosses the skies.