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This Week

It’s been a very long week and I’m really glad that it’s Saturday at last. The week started off very well and then Thursday decided to be horrible to me. The RAC men and hospital visits (unrelated, oddly enough) meant cancelled plans and massive headaches. So the weekend is welcomed!

This week I read ‘Lord of Silence‘ by Mark Chadbourn, which I had my eye on for a while before picking it up at the library. I am really tempted to renew it and just read it again, straight-away, the same urge I’ve had with every one of his books I’ve read. I re-read some Dorothy Sayers books (which I do very frequently). Sayers works like Belgian Chocolate Häagen-Dazs for me, I love her and reading the Lord Peter Wimsey (my ideal man) novels make me feel blissfully happy. and I am now reading ‘An Abundance of Katherines‘ by John Green which I bought after reading, and loving ‘Paper Towns’ a week or two ago.

I’m spending today in York (as long as the weather and trains are willing) with one of my best friends. And we are planning to do what we normally do when we meet up – drink lots and lots of coffee!

This week I reviewed ‘Food From Many Greek Kitchens‘ and ‘Desserts‘ on here and ‘Classic Indian Recipes‘ over on the UK Huffington Post site.

Mainly my week has been about poetry – after doing none at all last week, this week I have put the final eight poems up for my Three Random Words project. I love the collection and I’m really pleased with how the project turned out. It was odd to finally reach the penultimate and final poem sets but in the next few weeks I’ll announce the new project, and there is lots to do for that to keep me busy!

Next week I am going to be spending my time waiting for the TLS Christmas Quiz to be released. There are three things I love about Christmas in the UK: One – you can buy German food much more easily. Two – Starbucks Toffee Nut Lattes. Three – TLS Quiz. The quiz runs for a month and is painfully difficult (for someone like me, a bear of little brain) but I love doing it and get obsessed to a shameful degree. I don’t try to win a prize, all I try to do is answer every question, and in the four years I’ve been doing it I have not managed it yet. Fingers crossed for this year.

Have a good weekend everyone,
Vick.

Synthesis, Geek, Horizon, Evocative

Hello from one very tired little poet.
This is it now. The four last poems of my Three Random Word project that started so long ago as a flippant comment to pass some time online.

So, a HUGE thank you to every person who has given me a set of words to write with. The ideas have been amazing, especially with all of the great suggestions from my bookish and crafting friends around the internet. I really appreciate the help. Plus a special thanks to Mark, Wilf, Gemma and Jyoti for the first words which made me want to keep going to 100…

BeaKez gave me “synthesis, turmoil, beguile” to work from:

“Proposition”
Exactly halfway into the wood she stops
and looks in all directions
hoping to spot the archetype.
Cut a path through the trees
decisive and clear. She walks
fast towards a toadstool, set
in the earth to beguile her alone.
Invisible hands pushing her feet
and pulling her forwards into
their path. Everything turned
upside down while she looked
for the path back. Clothes a mess
and hair in turmoil the road opened.
She started out with only one idea
although the challenge changed
her and strengthened her –
the synthesis better for
running through the gauntlet.

Mark Chitty kindly gave me “geek, interdimensional, love” to write with:

“Fourth Wall”
Their paths cross each time
the inter-dimensional walls oscillate.
Unable to stay in place
as love pulls them back and forth.
Every life they find the same
place and passion to connect
one world to another.
A specialist. A geek. A fanatic.
One person searching another.
So simple in theory.

Sjhigbee has given me “volute, event, horizon” to use in a poem:

“Titus”
An age of celebration and innovation
each event marked out in stone and
made perfect by many men
for the glory of one man.
Feverishly slaving away to be ready,
as the sun smashed into Rome’s horizon
warming the streets, lighting the
final inscription. No mistakes.
As the last volute is levelled next to
famous names the crowds gather.
To see a history that cannot be changed –
no turning back. Memories protected,
free from the erosion of legends.

My final 3RW poem was inspired by Valerie with the words “meander, dream, evocative”:

“3am”
Shocked awake by the cold
as a foot wanders over to the
empty side of the bed.
Thoughts meander slowly
as my mind continues to sleep,
while small conscious thoughts
steal in to escape reality.
They run towards the Dream,
the one that I go to sleep for.
Not the same each night
but changing in reflections –
taking the best of the day
with me along into the night.
Images triggered by a long –
lingering scent, evocative
of a shared bright star with
sweeter unheard melodies.

And that’s it! All of the 100+ poems are now done and posted up here. I have sent a bunch of them in a mini-collection off to a competition. I’m now trying to think what to do with them next – most competitions will not accept poems that have been published (even on a blog) and I have no clue at all what I should do with a bunch of utterly random poems. Any suggestions will be gratefully received.

I have now got my next project sorted, but more on that later…

Thank you to everyone who has stayed reading these with me, whether people have read all of them, a few of them, or just one – I have had a wonderful time writing them. I think that the way that I write poetry and think about my ideas has changed for the better with the inspirations I have been given along the way.

I think I might take a day off before I get to work on the next project. Time to read a book. Poetry, perhaps.

Vick.

Kangaroo, Shoes, Dusted, Volcanic

Once again a fantastically weird mixture of words. There has been a bit of a gap posting these, simply because I forgot to write them. I’m hoping to get the next four written either the end of this week or early next week and that will be it! This is my penultimate set of 3RW poems and is pushing me over the 100 mark, the next few are technically outside the original aim of 100 poems but I made the rules so I can break them…

Hannah from bunsandballs gave me “kangaroo, rose, scrumptious” to work with:

“Nature’s Gifts”
The sky turns rose, flushing
against the red dirt roads.
A man carries his history in his skin –
shoes stepping in footprints to
follow the cross home.
He walks towards the kangaroo
sitting patiently waiting for him,
a signpost to the past.
A meal awaits at the end of the walk.
Fire and water combine to make
scrumptious gourmet feasts.
The people surround and support,
surpassing the food as cities grow
from the ground up,
leaving behind trees in cages at their heart.
Looking hard he can see where it all came from
hints in people’s faces, movements and words.

Jemima gave me “faraway, shoes, Guadalajara” to write a poem with:

“Distant Miracle”
She had waited a lifetime or two
to visit the cathedral in Guadalajara.
From the first time that her Innocent
eyes found the faraway spires on a postcard
she promised herself a visit.
As a girl she dreamt of the saints,
the altars and the sacraments
but she finally entered as an old woman,
tired, wearing re-heeled shoes.
It’s architects rebuilt her as she sat and prayed.

Zoe from BlessedBeeApothecary gave me “yesteryears, dusted, picked” to use:

“Probate”
Treasures picked out of
a wardrobe from yesteryears,
dusted memories.

East Coast Photo on Etsy gave me “terse, volcanic, free” to write with:

“Filigree Wings”
A pendant of volcanic glass,
as clear as her eyes is handed
over at first light.
A birthday gift to be treasured,
and then passed on again.
A terse note held within its structure,
written out by the earth and
committed by the heat.
It allows her to be free,
to think whatever she pleases
held down by no one, not even
the one who gave it to her;
while she carries the note by
her heart pulsing with her pulse.

That’s all for today, the final batch will be on their way soon!

Vick.

Getaway, Bruised, Sandwich, Cosmos.

Once again, a real mixed bag of words and poetry this week. A great selection of inspirations from the Etsy forums as I creep closer to the end of this project that I have been doing for so many months now!

The ladies from elloriasboutique gave me “marvelous, hypnotise, getaway” to work with:

“Last minute escape”
How to hypnotise
lost in a marvelous feeling
for the getaway.

Suzi Smith from suziscribbles gave me “invoke, ash, bruised” to turn into a poem:

“Crumpled”
A tremor floods from one end
to the other, the ripple spreading
as external bookshelves fall.
Books lie bruised in piles,
fallen into clumps, all order lost.
An older wisdom invoked by
the mind of one in the centre
to bring knowledge back
down to earth. Watch the
brilliance and the downfall
as texts burn cold and
crumble into an ash to be
sifted through for a new
understanding of the ages.


Axevictimus
from Etsy gave me “sandwich, pizza, chocolate” to use

“Waiting Room”
A 9 to 5 day escape to the
fast world of anonymity.
Sandwiched between layers of
formica, forced to eavesdrop on
a break-up fuelled by pizza
and chocolate milkshakes.
Personalities trapped inside
bodies that they don’t understand
and cannot find the controls.
Waiting. In a pressed suit,
staring into a bottomless cup
of bad coffee. Waiting for news
with a half-eaten Danish and
strip lighting for company.

Sally Henderson from CloudArtUK gave me “cat, cosmos, cutie” to work with and it turned into this:

“Suburbia”
A small, lanky cat is sitting
on a cooling car bonnet.
Behind, a row of identical houses
with matching fences and cutie-
coordinated garden paths running
up to daringly coloured front doors.
And inside, blissfully ignorant
families are happily alike.
But outside the stars above are
different – their long travelled lights
bringing a new cosmos to
your eyes every evening.

Hopefully more later on in the week. But for now, toodle-pip,
Vick.

Effervescent, Miasma, Wallpaper, Entwined.

There has been a slight hiatus in posting my poems this week, but with a decent reason attached. I’ve just submitted part of the collection to the 2011 Book and Pamphlet Competition from The Poetry Business so I have been focusing on making sure the poems I have entered were exactly how I wanted them and that I chose the right selection to send. However, here are four new ones that I’ve done this week.

Katy from squeakandpippy on Etsy gave me “squash, sociable, effervescent” to play with:

“Socialite”
An effervescent escape
while her personality bubbles
in time to music, unheard
by the sociable whirl of
September beginning to fall.
She leaves the squash of
the dance behind and steps out
into fields and trails that grow up
in front of her pointed shoes.

Shemakesremakes from the Etsy forums has given me “ocean, miasma, breathless” to use:

“Dorothy”
Hospital corners of starched sheets
tuck in around her elbows
keeping her tied down.
She struggles to turn her head
and see the ocean just outside
but a world kept from her now
in her weaknesses.
All she wants to do is get out
and run until she’s breathless
and dizzy from the mass of sky.
Instead she’s trapped by a miasma
of cascading illness, one following
another and another. Cursed.
Not cured until it dies or she
breaks out of the myth.

Alexis Southam from Etsy gave me “carving, mesh, wallpaper”

“Inherited”
Plain stripes;
Damask of blue;
Floral repeating pattern;
Wider stripes in green;
Fern leaves overlapping.
Layers of wallpaper hidden
for years, left as a lazy
reminder. One piled onto
another in a mesh of history.
Drag a nail deep enough,
carving through a family
and then another to reach
the final image.
Revealed only to the one
determined to look closely.

Merri Kitty
, once more from Etsy kindly gave me “balloon, frivolous, entwined” to work into a poem:

“Weekdays”
Days flash by as she pulls off
the petals of a silk flower.
‘He sees me, he sees me not’.
A frivolous lifestyle to ask only
of actions not emotions.
The others are tied down, more
solid than the centre of a rock.
Love and life a balloon to
keep her souls in the air and
let her mind dance around the clouds.
The everyday made more precious
by stolen mornings and evenings
where two breaths are entwined
around dreams of nothing ordinary
but everything small and real
and beyond reach.
A war. A distance.
The circles. The revolutions.
Always coming back around.

I’m hoping to get more up early next week as well, so fingers crossed as I come to the end of this little collection.

Happy friday to everyone,
Vick.