I've been working on this idea for a while. The difficulty was how to lay it out and I settled on a prose poem.
in those days he was expected to wear a
suit and tie over time the act of knotting his tie became a measure for the thickness the weave the stiffness of the silk presented
unique challenges if it knotted easily then it would be plain
sailing if repeated attempts were required to achieve the desired
effect then the day lay in ambush
but that was then
that job does not exist any more and he
only needs one tie black like his suit for funerals
I used to think that difficulty in getting the correct shaped knot on my tie indicated my stress level but I like the idea of it being an omen.
Here's some old music from the 60s. Painting Box by the Incredible String Band.
I have always rather admired Odysseus and his trickster ways. A man who could not keep his mouth shut until it was absolutely necessary. If you haven't read the Odyssey then you should, if only for it's allegorical tale of a veteran returning home and the difficulties everyone faces.
I mention this because I reference Calypso in the following poem. Calypso ensnared Odysseus on his homeward journey from Troy and kept him in thrall for many years. The poem proposes that the main character is his own Calypso in that he creates his own fantasy to enthrall himself.
he is his own calypso
though he misses the reference
and hates the music
bewitched as he is by his escape plan
there is better than here
where he has failed to make a go of it
this land being cursed
as are all the places he has left behind
but over the hill
up the motorway
lies real promise
everything will be so different
This next poem is also about the same fictional character.
Thanks go once more to the Secret Poets who could see the shape of this poem so much more clearly than I could. You can read the previous draft here. I have though [all by myself] added a title.
Instagram Post
he was complimented on the rainbow
his photograph deftly captured
the fine graduation of colours
which was due to the large amount of water
that had tumbled from the sky
over such a short period of time
he added
anexplanation
how the deluge had almost
overpowered the windscreen wipers
he thought
of the man in vest and shorts
who attempted to out distance the rain
how his pale pink top darkened
as he panted towards
a solitary tree
whose scanty branches
could offer no shelter
There was some confusion over exactly what the narrator was doing with the photograph, why they needed to add a story, were they a journalist? I had not seen them as such. I was thinking they had been refining a story, a tale to tell others, as we all do.
The vision of others can help to improve our work beyond our imaginings. I suppose it's a riff on the old saying "many hands make light work". Something like many poets make for clarity.
Thank you Secrets.
I'm working on a poem that mentions Calypso, the sorceress and the music, so I am leaving you with Roaring Lion from 1938. The song concerns the mysterious conflagration of a number of theaters in Trinidad.Until next time.
I am always amazed at how poems write themselves. I take a selection of seemingly random events and somehow they write themselves into a poem. Yes, I know, it is not that easy. There is the mind's selection of the experience/event, the ordering, the adaption into something greater and the hours of revision. But the end product usually surprises me.
For this poem I should stress I was not the driver.
he was complimented on the rainbow
his photograph deftly captured
the fine graduation of colours
which was due to the large amount of water
that had over such a short period of time
tumbled from out of the sky
he worked on the accompanying story
how the deluge had almost
overpowered the windscreen wipers
his focus always on the man in the vest and
shorts
who attempted to out distance the rain
how his pale pink top darkened
as he panted to the supposed shelter
of a tree that became sparser
and less protective with each retelling
perhaps that was the point
Can anyone tell me how to alter the spacing on this new platform? It is, to use a technical term - pants.
Much rain fell last week and my thoughts are with those poor people flooded out. I think we are sleepwalking over the abyss as I write.
By the way the praise for my photographs of the rainbow was made up, as I think you can tell from the actual photographs.
The rainbows made me think of this song by Marmalade. I think it's from 1970. Here's their other song. Ah, the wonder of psychedelia! Until next time.
