Originally Blogging the Artist's Way. Thoughts, musings, experience of the 12-week course, January to March 2006. And after that?.... Life, creativity, writing. Where does it all meet? Here, perhaps.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Poetry on Thursday.

Delia, who is hosting the Travelling Poetry Show this week, suggested that we take this week to do anything that struck our fancy, to be free. The poem I've chosen to post is appearing in part , though, because of next week's prompt. When I read the suggestion that we face our poetry fears, I decided that this week I would post a poem that I feel some trepidation about posting, and during the week, I'll write something I wouldn't have really tried before (not sure yet just what).

Ruminating about Poetry Thursday and its impact, I realised that at the beginning, I posted favourite poems by other poets, and then within a few weeks, I began to think about the copyright issue, and decided to link to other poets rather than post their poems in full. This was the shift that led to me posting so many of my own poems. I'd intended originally to alternate perhaps, between my poems and other poets, but think I have neglected to share much over the past few months, so I'm inviting any of you who would like to to pop over to Poetry Ireland's media archive, to go and watch a few video clips of some Irish poets reading from and celebrating Thomas Kinsella. What they have to say in their introductions (especially Eilean Ni Chuilleanain) says much about the imortance of poetry and connections between poets. I hope you will go and visit.

In the meantime, here is my own offering this week:



My childhood kingdom
was my grandmother’s garden.
From my front-step throne,
I commanded armies,
marshalling troops of ants
and woodlice.
I wielded benevolent power,
a cherry-blossom twig sceptre,
until a horrified aunt found me,
brought me in for tea,
and suitable play
with a colouring-book.


I am not the goose bloodied in the fox’s mouth.
I am not the fox.
If I am not the wielder of this magic tree,
nor the tree itself,
maybe I am one of the three geese
sweeping above the lake,
winging towards a distant indigo mountain.


Before I started to wait for the world to fill me up,
before I became the hollow girl,
I was the child in charge of a world,
I was the queen on the front-step,
directing the path of woodlouse and ant.
When I held out my hand I could see
in my palm the thorn-tree that one day
might grow there.
I could see colours: vivid green
and red. Bright, blood red.
You will find more thursday poets in the comments on This Post, HERE

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At 6/9/07 2:08 pm, Blogger LJCohen said...

Wow--that part II really moved me. Beautiful. Like being inside a fairy tale.

At 6/9/07 5:30 pm, Blogger gautami tripathy said...

I like all parts. There is a shift and layers in this.

At 6/9/07 6:14 pm, Blogger AnnieElf said...

I'm so glad you started sharing your own work and yes, I must agree, it can be a very fearful thing to post. This triptych is lovely. Clearly, your aunt could not keep you out of the garden or playing in the dirt. Good for you.

At 6/9/07 6:22 pm, Blogger Tammy said...

I looked up Triptych and was able to really understand. The middle was really wonderful as the other two parts fit perfectly.

I had trouble with echo and accent together but enjoyed "song" in that lovely wonderful irish brogue.

At 6/9/07 8:28 pm, Anonymous split ends said...

Oh, I loved this. III really completed it perfectly for me. I'm so glad you decided to share!

At 6/9/07 9:11 pm, Blogger paisley said...

Before I started to wait for the world to fill me up,
before I became the hollow girl,

i never verbalized this before... but it hit me very hard... and i will hang on to it and work it into my thoughts soon....

At 7/9/07 12:59 am, Blogger Regina Clare Jane said...

Brilliant... as my wonderful Irish friends from the NW always say!

At 7/9/07 1:19 am, Blogger Jessica said...

This is gorgeous and lyrical... I love the use of color in the last lines of the third section.

At 7/9/07 2:17 am, Blogger ...deb said...

Your poem amazes me with the three panels. When I visual it (I can't help to, especially with the accompaning art I wish were bigger!) I see the middle panel as larger. It read to me not so much the bridge but the melding, because of the "I am"s and "I am not"s. My take on it anyway.

I do like how the cherry branch is transformed to blood.

And the lines "Before I started to wait for the world to fill me up,/ before I became the hollow girl" blew me away. I like how you paired them. Waiting makes hollow. Not the other way around...

At 7/9/07 2:51 am, Blogger Amber said...

Wow! This is brilliant.

This speaks to me of how the power is taken from a girl, before she has time to learn how to use it.


At 7/9/07 3:24 am, Blogger January said...

This is wonderful--I'm in love with the second stanza. Brilliant!

At 7/9/07 8:32 pm, Blogger tumblewords said...

Awesome! Although I'm not sure if that word is strong enough for your wonderful poem and post.

At 7/9/07 11:42 pm, Blogger pepektheassassin said...

Very, very good poem. I wrote one (or three) myself called triptych. If you want to see, click on my Plodding Taurus link. Or not.

I liked this a lot!

At 8/9/07 10:50 pm, Anonymous me said...

thanks for your comment on the sunday scribbling prompt. I came over to check your blog out and was attracted to the fact that you named a poem 'triptych'. Never seen that before...I like that.
I'm not the biggest fan or understander of poetry, but I can get the flavour of it enough to appreciate this one :)

At 9/9/07 5:37 am, Blogger Jo said...

Really I don't want to get all flowery on you but I have to say: this stirred my soul! For so many reasons I can't articulate here; thank you.


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