National Poetry Day: home

A poem a day...day four

Home

in the beginning

home was a place.

it had walls.

memories punctuated

every stone,

a chair could sum up

an entire history.

there were points

where remembering

became more acute,

more timeless.

a table, around which

we sat, carried dozens

of dinners, breakfasts,

finger paintings.

then, the still frames

began to move.

home became a variable –

a sense of leaving

and returning

and we became

unhitched, searching

for re-beginnings.

now we softly settle,

and once again give

the word a certain

geography, but

acknowledging

what we have learned.

home is not the place,

but those inside.

Today is National Poetry Day - time to think about your favourite poems, why you love them, and to share them with one another. This year's theme is 'Home', which is why I have used this topic here.

Because today's poem is, yet again, written only today, it inevitably is more 'churned out' than finely crafted. Parts of it make me wince. It's not what I would want it to be. Nevertheless, despite its sketchiness, I hope it holds a hint of potentiality.

Do you like poetry? Why? Why not?

Any favourites?

Day One: walk with me

Day Two: viewpoints
Day Three: seasonal haiku

Wednesday: seasonal haiku

A poem a day...day three

The leaves are turning -

natures quiet remembrance;

summer's gold farewell.

The mist of my breath,

hinting at winter's return.

warmth well-met with cold.

Perhaps that's two poems...but never mind!

Day One: walk with me

Day Two: viewpoints

Image: mine

Tuesday: Viewpoints

A poem a day...day two

Viewpoints

even the words
have different meanings.
we collide, perplexed,
thinking we agree
when we disagree
and vice versa

it's hard to tell our
stories, in understandable
ways, we have different
starting points and certainly
different endings
yet there are moments
of recognition

in the end,
we start from
the beginning, placing
pre-conceptions aside,
allowing space
for explanation,
treating each other
respectfully.

tenderly.

hopefully.

Day One: walk with me

Image: mine

Monday: Walk with me

A poem a day...day one.

Walk with me

walk with me

when friendship feels

tangible, faith

touchable and able

to wrap us in a blanket

when the wind is

brisk, and carries

flecks of winter

walk with me

when love's adhesive

does not stick and hope

is landlocked, what then?

then walk with me

though fingers graze

sharp-edged stones -

one thing is known.

Together is better than alone.

The trouble with writing a poem a day is that most poems take more than a day - to brew, mature and be constructed. To be finished. So I have to present this first one of the week as just that - unfinished, unmatured, incomplete. For starters, I want to give it another stanza - probably at the beginning. Unfortunately, I ran out of time and inspiration today - that missing verse must emerge later. This is the first draft. There are bits I like, and bits I know need work.

It's hard offering something that is unfinished for viewing, but I wrote this poem for the purpose of being today's poem, so here it must be. All I ask is that readers respect its rawness. Every poem this week is likely to be a work in progress.

So, walk with me.

a poem a day...?

Thursday is National Poetry Day here in the UK (this year's theme: 'Home'). This makes me want to engage is some blog themed poetry-ness. (Or should that be poetry themed blog-ness?)
A poem a day, perhaps? A Monday to Thursday poetry fest? Can I set myself the challenge of writing a poem a day? And what will it be like? And will I manage to balance it with neurologist's appointments and nutritionist phone calls and JW bible studies and other stories?

Perhaps they could be short and sweet:

Dear doctor, can I make it plain?
I'm not sure I even have a brain.


Or fanciful:

Oh! Ephemeral beauty hanging evanescent over a dreamless sky...


...or maybe not.

Still, it's a thought. For those writers who have recently confined themselves to prose, or like me, focused on non-fiction, a little poetic probing may be of benefit (and possibly painful, by the sounds of it).


Dare I suggest it? Not necessarily all in keeping with the theme 'home', but certainly classified as some kind of poem.

Watch this space, it may just become poetic.

image: mine