This week’s post is
inspired by a workshop I ran at Juncture 25 on Wednesday evening. I was running
late beforehand and I took Rachel Rees’ exercise without reading it. I try not
to think about the task before hand as I want as even a playing field as
possible.
Essentially the
task was to go to a place of your choice and observe [the focus was on seeing,
hearing, smelling, tasting] then to write 10 found words from the environment then
add to this 20 words that are provoked by the space. Next write a 4 stanza free
verse poem.
You will appreciate
that at 7.30 in the evening we had to imagine a place rather than visit it.
This is what I produced in the 45 minutes we had.
1979: a typical Friday
on top of the K Unit Dechlorinator
Green chlorine tasting
teeth,
rub with your tongue it
won’t go away.
Brown slide valve rust
on palm,
cold cutting wind Now!
higher than our house,
on your house, atop his house.
Yellow chlorine, red
hydrogen,
black caustic – the one
to avoid,
blue for water, more
colours than in the sky.
Dense hollow tubes
circulating liquid,
more akin to balloon
sculpture
or your insides on show.
Deluge valve – who reads
the instructions?
Or clocks the last chance
graphite bursting disc
fail safe, ready to
buckle under pressure.
The chill air skirls
about you.
This glowing tip leads
to grey smoke tunnelling from lungs,
that swirling feeling,
then you’re one hundred years away.
Friday afternoon, it
seems has started early today.
I have tidied it up
a bit, but it is pretty much as I presented on the night. I wanted to
re-imagine a familiar place but one which would be easy to describe.
The Dechlorinator was
one of the few places you could smoke in K-Unit. I had a ritual of smoking up
there on a Friday afternoon [in those far off days Fitter’s Half Day].
Before I wrote the
above I also, literally, dashed off this next poem. I think it needs a little
background. When I was a social work student we had a tutor who would use visualisation
exercises as a pace changer. At the start of the course we had to think of a
place and we returned to that place often. That summer I had been to a Womad
festival in Cornwall and I thought about when I had stood on the beach with
most of the other festival goers watching the sunset.
Alaap in the water,
August in Cornwall,
gulls in the sky,
You by my side.
The world before us,
a festival in front.
In the years to come,
this moment my
touchstone.
I had been told, right
from the start,
to find a place I felt
at ease.
Visualisation, a happy
add-on
to social work training.
I can always go back to
that beach:
Alaap in the water,
August in Cornwall,
you by my side.
The you in the poem
is my late first wife.
I am leaving you this week with a video by Liz
Lawrence, she edited the footage herself. It’s from her forthcoming record.
Thanks Andrew, glad you enjoyed it.
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