Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

My Season Inspired Sonnet; Summer's End


I'd already started writing a poem before I read John Keats, To Autumn, a poem that paints a majestic picture of a season, and used a similar personification of nature to write my finished piece.

I started out with the last two lines, which I thought made a profound statement that could be used as the final couplet in a sonnet, which ends like a good story with a clear expression of theme. The rest came from lots of scribbles in my A4 notebook, a good size for writing poetry as it gives you lots of space to play around with different rhymes alongside the poem and cross-out and start over several times.

Below, I've linked to Keats' poem and a walk in Winchester which supposedly gave him inspiration; I'll be taking that walk later this week as part of my travel and hiking blog. For now, if you can spare a few minutes, let me know what you think of my poem in the comments section below.
 


Summer's End

I know, with misty breath and empty sky,
That creatures will have flocked or taken sleep,
And from my frosted window, wonder why
Our summer fun must fade and turn life bleak.
Creeping its glimmering decay, a snail
Like frost eats autumn’s crunch, replacing lake
Side laughter with a howling empty gale
That strips the trees till neither ash nor oak.
Then, the first flake weaves onto skin like silk,
And stepping-stones of crystal spread the pond,
And townsfolk, snowball playing, skate the milk
With knowing hope, a dance till winter’s end,
For trees that lose their colour
Return full bloom in summer.


Click here for a link to Keats' poem, and here for a guide to Keats' walk in Winchester

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Before I Set Out; a Poem

Following my journey along the Artist's Way, I've started to allow myself to write more poetry. I mostly write single stanzas at the moment, but perhaps I'll develop some longer pieces soon. This poem is inspired by my weekly walks and my love of tea. 





Before I Set Out

I bow the laces on my boots and pack
Essential kit; a flask of water, a map,
An extra layer and coat, and most of all,
A flask of tea to warm my spirits
And bring me safely home.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Top Five Things to do when snowed in, from a writer’s perspective



They say us Brits are never ready for the snow, and when it comes have no clue what to do except drive into ditches and call snow days at our schools and most places of work (even if just for the excuse). I must agree the snow (that doesn’t want to leave) is becoming a bit of a chore, but perhaps being snowed in again wouldn’t be so bad if armed with armed with this top-five list. It’s a perfect opportunity to break out the creative child within and get down to some serious writing fun.
 
1. Story Games
I’ve only just read about Rory’s Story Cubes, a story game involving six dice with images to generate ideas to be used in a story. You cast the die, and whorl away with a story to fit. It’s much like online story generators, but these cubes in a variety of themes, including Actions and Voyages, turn a writing tool into a well packaged afternoon game. I’ve even seen a picture of the cubes used to represent Ned Stark's storyline from A Game of Thrones. Simple, honest, geeky fun. 

2. Poetry
Yes, I can feel your eyebrows turning from here, but poetry can be fun. I read Stephen Fry’s book, The Ode Less Travelled last year, and he reminded me how before distractions of the internet and television that poetry and writing exercises were key entertainment. There are a variety of closed-form poems, acrostics, rictameters, or perhaps you could play with a serious sonnet or laugh with a limerick. Think of it like doing a cross-word with a chance to create something unique. Here’s an example of my own patterned poem.

The
Man of
Snow
A
Carrot for a nose,
Two lumps
Of coal
A
Silly hat
To keep him warm
Whilst we all eat within our
Homes, until upon a sunny spell,
That melts away the fluffy white,
We venture out, and gasp upon
The melt; a carrot that was once
a nose, two lumps of coal that
once were eyes.
3. Seek
This sounds both odd and obvious at the same time, but venture out (as far as your snow boots can carry you) and seek inspiration. Notice how different everything looks, and feels. Does it remind you of any far gone place? A ski resort? A Disney film? Take pictures. Build a snowman, or do what I did and help push a car up the hill, doing you community service for the day, then write about it. Embrace this different sort of day, and see if it gets the synapses firing!

4. Read/Watch
Dig out your DVD collection, put on that new series you got for Christmas, break out a book, or even read a script. I know that time old phrase, along the lines of you must read, read, read if you want to write, write, write gets rather annoying (and therefore probably true), but today you have time. Enjoy.

5. Write
You heard me. Write that project you’ve been putting off.  I used my snow day to write a ton of pages for my thesis screenplay, and now would use any extra time to write a scene for my new play, unless of course I were to be distracted by any of the above.

A simple list, but hopefully will inspire any creative stuck in the snow to get their story juices flowing.

Friday, 21 December 2012

Signs; For Poetic Inspiration

It was already ten minutes past my appointment, and the magazines did little to soothe my bordem. I started my usual habit of reading signs. Not the spiritual sort (though I do read my stars) but anything with a bit of text, such as, "Wet-Paint," information on general check-ups, jabs, and one particularity interesting one, "Patient Confidentiality." It got me thinking, and soon I was off on a random poetic tangent about zombies waiting for their health care...

Patient confidentiality
We promise we won’t tell
Even if your leg falls off
And freezes over hell

For equal rights the zombies have
To place a check-up call
It’s not as if chronic fatigue
Has never struck us all

They wait in line to place their vote
And choose the wiser bet
It must be all the brains they eat
To pass their IQ tests

For when the world does shortly end
They’ll be left standing tall
Embracing life in grotesque haste
Much stronger than us all