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NaPoWriMo Day 30. The final day . . .

It seems odd that my final poem for this month of writing a new poem every day, should have the subject matter of suicide. I read on my friend, John Malone’s blog today a story that immediately spoke to me, and I knew I wanted to write my final poem for April about his blog post.

Suicide is a subject often talked around, rather than talked about. It needs to be talked about though, because in not talking of it, we isolate those who are already feeling isolated, alone, and wanting to end their pain. The RU OK Day campaign, that encourages people to check up on their friends is one that seems to be gaining traction. I hope that being asked can help people to realise they are not alone, and that their family and friends truly do care.

 

 

 

Belief

 

No one knows for sure,

what made this end seem right,

suicide brought an end for this one man,

end to pain, end of life.

But it brings much to those remaining,

questions without answers,

ideas that can never be confirmed

by the one who knew most.

The fifth commandment says do not kill,

considers suicide a grave sin,

and perhaps that is one thing

that brought it on – when even

the religion that has meant so much,

let him down. I can’t know,

no-one can really know, what it is

that will make a person end their life …

belief in the sanctity of life, cast aside

as they may have felt cast aside too,

by their God.

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NaPoWriMo Day 29 My poem written today

This poem isn’t a finished product, nor is it intended to be a sweet and happy little poem. This poem is merely some of my deeply held thoughts, blended together and written down in short lines.

Rape and community are both things right on the top of my list of important things in life. The former is something that the latter must take stronger action against, in my opinion. Anyway, I have written a lot about sexual abuse, in particular the rape of children – I have another blog that I have dedicated to this issue.

I have also produced my first and so far only poetry collection based on child abuse of various kinds. It’s my therapeutic journey from victim to survivor, and it certainly helped me to get through another, more recent challenge in my life.

Creative writing can be such a good way to write out the crap that comes in life – write it out and move on has been the process that worked for me.

Anyway, here is my poem – I welcome the thoughts of others on this poem and what it is about. Community is the thing that keeps us strong.

 

The wall

 

When a woman is raped and a man goes free

another community brick implodes.

Community is the invisible wall

that surrounds us and keeps us safe.

Each brick set in place by a good action,

each brick balanced on good will and hope,

each brick threatened by evil acts.

Each brick only there for as long

as we work to protect its place.

With hope, good will, kind actions

the wall grows ever stronger.

Don’t let anyone destroy the bricks

that go together to build the wall.

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NaPoWriMo Day 28

The month of a poem a day is almost over, just today, tomorrow and the day after left. I don’t think my days after this month will be  poetry free, and I don’t believe all of my poems written for April have been wonderful. They didn’t have to be wonderful, they just had to be written. 

I was at the Gawler Poets at the Pub poetry reading this afternoon, and actully wrote two new poems. One was written in response to the usual 5 word Poetry Challenge run at every one of the monthly poetry readings. The words are random ones, given by people there, one word each. Then everyone has about ten minutes to write a poem using all of the words.

Then all who are happy to do so, read the poem they wrote, and  the winner is chosen based on whichever poem gets the best response from all there. The winner receives a bottle of wine, donated by Adrian Armstrong, the publican there.

The poets who come along regularly to this event have come to love this challenge, and there have been some totally wonderful poems written. I often am busy doing other things and don’t get the chance to write a poem and read it out, but this time, I had time, and I’d like to share my poem here.

I wanted to write a poem with a ‘poetic feel’, because I am aware that too often, my poetry is decidedly unpoetic. The poem I wrote today has a metaphor I happy with, and that is enough for now. The chosen words were windows, hysteria, tampering, suspect and April.

This is the poem I wrote:

 

I suspect their motives

their hysteria –

politicians tampering

with our windows of opportunity.

April glitters with guilt

 

The other poem I wrote today is about our next door neighbours’ cat, and I think I’ll hang onto that poem for later. I might put a dog and cat collection together at some stage, and I’ll keep the poem for that. Or I may find something that this poem suits, and the poem will be unpublished, unlike all of the poems I’ve posted to this blog.

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NaPoWriMo Day 27

On the drive to the Tea Tree Gully library, Graham and I were interested to see so much dust. It’s quite windy out there today, and there hasn’t been rain for too many days. We were driving past untilled paddocks, that seemed to be losing their top soil to the wind. Very dusty.

So I was thinking about that when I finally sat down at the library to write my poem for the day. Anzac Day rain is often when farmers traditionally sow their crops. There hasn’t been terribly much rain around our district, apart from one recent reasonable day of rain. The farmers need more rain. It’s been forecast, but that’s no guarantee…

This is the poem I wrote, based on all of that.

Season break

 

Northerly wind picks up

and disperses top soil,

farmers wait and hope

consider and act

as they always have.

 

More rain forecast

but clouds in the sky

are not the ones.

Farmer, machinery and seed

are getting ready.

 

Sunshine and rain

will combine and nature

will once again perform

its magic trick and carpet

the ground with green.

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NaPoWriMo Day 26 A Poem a Day Keeps the Doctor Away!

So, the day after ANZAC Day, and it was market day for me today. I used to be the person who travelled to the Adelaide Central Market once a week to buy our fruit and vegetables and other goodies. Then multiple scleroisis came along, I got to weak and tired, and Graham took over the task, doing it after work instead.

This was OK, but certainly not ideal. Fortunately, retirement came Graham’s way, and the visit to Adelaide fits in beautifully well for Graham. Usually I go and see my Mum on the day Graham heads off to the Central Market. Today was different.

I’d gone to Mum’s place on Wednesday instead of the usual Thursday or Friday, so I was free to visit the Central Market with Graham. We went along, with Graham heading off with our shopping trolley. I went and said hi to Rebecca, from the Mushroom Shop, and then went for a coffee.

While I was having my coffee, I got our my mobile phone and penned a poem, based on my thoughts about the market on the day. It may not be my best ever poem, but it reminds me of the place, the glorious bustling nature of the place.

Compared to my usual day, the trip to the Central Market was like an invigorating fresh wind, blowing staleness away! So this is my poem – all comments on it gratefully accepted!

MARKET DAY

So many people rushing past

pushing past headed

for who knows what

city people busy people

looking buying selling

doing deals

things to see

to taste

to smell

I hear voices

languages words

connections made

money handed over

accepted

goods received

conversations overheard

puzzled over

entered into

new ideas and thoughts

Nnw sensations

new horizons

thank you central market

you give me

people and life

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<a href=”http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/LocationPhotos-g255093-d270480-Adelaide_Central_Market-Adelaide_Greater_Adelaide_South_Australia.html”><img alt=”Photos of Adelaide Central Market, Adelaide” src=”http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/0e/19/be/fruit-and-vegtables.jpg”/></a><br/>This photo of <a href=”http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Attraction_Review-g255093-d270480-Reviews-Adelaide_Central_Market-Adelaide_Greater_Adelaide_South_Australia.html”>Adelaide Central Market</a> is courtesy of TripAdvisor

<a href=”http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/LocationPhotos-g255093-d270480-Adelaide_Central_Market-Adelaide_Greater_Adelaide_South_Australia.html”><img alt=”Photos of Adelaide Central Market, Adelaide”

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NaPoWriMo Day 25

I’m currently sitting on my computer chair, at my computer, while ANZAC Day is commemorated on the TV screen to my right. I hadn’t know what my poem would be about this day,nor what style of poetry it would be, but as my thoughts about ANZAC day coalesced in my head, two lines came to me.

I wrote down those lines, and then looked at my notes about the Triolet, because I felt that would be a suitable style for the poem I wanted to write today. The Triolet is a poetic style that is short and has only two different rhymes. It’s a simple style, one that repeats the first two lines in a certain way, as my poem will show.

I hope others who read this poem will think about what I am trying to say, and offer their own thoughts about this important day in Australia and New Zealand. No matter what one thinks about war, surely we can look kindly on those who have fought for their country, our country . . .

 

Anzac day thoughts

 

Invisible burdens carried, as diggers fought

with their peacetime lives at the end of the war.

Private anguish and pains, not healing as they ought,

invisible burdens carried as diggers fought.

Help not there or not ever sought

to assist the ones we’re thankful for . . .

Invisible burdens carried as diggers fought

with their peacetime lives at the end of the war.

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Trials of growing older

A poem, a poem, my kingdom for a poem. I’ve had a busy day today, and I’m afraid a poem hasn’t arrived yet. Will I give in and forget about a poem for today then? No I most certainly will not!

I’m looking at one of the comments on my poem from yesterday, and wondering at such lovely sounding words that describe less than lovely things. Papilloma, fibroma and lipoma. What do these musical sounding words mean? They’re benign lumps and bumps, and I don’t want them on my skin! I’m thinking about growths and other things I have that I don’t want, and thinking about ways to rid myself of such unwanted things.

So, this leads me to my poem for the day. A little bit of harmless silliness, that I hope I don’t regret posting later. Hey, I’m fifty now, and I have to face up to the fact I’m no longer young and lovely, if I ever was that.

 

There’s a hair on there!

 

I have to grin at the skin I’m in,

freckles and moles all over the place,

stray hairs growing, where none are wanted –

ladies don’t need hairs on their chinny chin chin!

Tweezers are I are good friends now,

we pluck out hair whenever we need to.

It’s a common thing as we ladies age

so I grin and bear it, and always know

this problem isn’t mine alone,

I’m one of the plucky band who

pluck out those hairs relentlessly!

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NaPoWriMo Day 23

This is a subject that has been on my mind (and my neck) ever since it arrived. The poem is not to be taken as a fully formed opinion. It’s merely a bit of idle thinking about deeper issues. Or deeper thinking about idle issues. Or both… Or perhaps a load of twaddle.

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On thinking about my body’s bad behaviour, and about Pinocchio’s lies

Does the human body decide to punish you

for your so-called bad behaviour?

When you shovel junk down your gob,

do you deserve that flabby gut?

 

I’d say yes to both, and try my best

to be gentle to my outer self.

I exercise, and try to consume

food I know is good.

 

My body though, is being bad

and attacking bits of me –

this disease I have is what can happen

when bits get their wires crossed.

 

The problem is medically being controlled,

and the damage is being mended.

But now another bit’s gone wrong

and causing an unsightly growth.

 

Is my body angry at my naughty ways,

when I eat that chocolate or those chips?

The growth on my neck might be equal to

Pinocchio’s lying nose –

 

growing longer and larger, every time

I opt for taste and not nutrition.

It’s on my neck and getting longer

as I dine out every week.

 

Doctor said the growth will fall off –

skin tags do and I hope he’s right.

My long hair hides the offending growth,

but now my hair’s falling out too!

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Not a poem this time

No this post isn’t a new poem, such as I’ve been posting to this blog on most days in April. This post follows on from a conversation/chat with a friend on Facebook, John Malone. John is a real friend, as well as being a Facebook friend. We share some things in common, both writers and poets, both with a sometimes quirky sense of humour. this is a link to John’s blog – it’s a mighty fine one, well worth reading!

This is something I posted on John’s blog recently:
‘I try to sit in the best spot in a meeting, so I’m where I can hear the best. I pay attention when people are talking, and I look at people too, to pick up clues. I don’t really think about these things, I just do them. My poor hearing in my right ear was picked up when I was in junior primary, then we moved house. I’m not sure whether anything was ever talked about by my parents. I did well enough at school, so I suppose it didn’t matter that my hearing wasn’t very good.
Having written all of that, I’m wondering whether this slight disability had anything to do with me becoming a writer? It feels like it may have been involved in the way my life has gone. Thank you for this question John – I’d never written anything about these issues before, or even rally thought about them.’

John then posted a comment in reply, mentioning his stuttering problem from when he was younger. And so now the two of are thinking about whether these sorts of ‘disabilities’ may have led us to becoming creative writers. I’m wondering what it is that makes a creative writer. Certainly having a hearing issue means that I tune out of conversations sometimes and sit and ponder life.

I rarely think about my poor hearing in my right ear, it’s just a fact of life. It’s only since I’ve become more aware of disabilities through meeting up with other people with disabilities, that I’ve begun to wonder. Would I have been a creative writer if my life had been more ‘normal’, if I could hear everything said to me? Would I have been happy to simply do what everyone else does, and not think terribly deeply about things? Am I putting more into this whole issue, than it deserves?

I also have another, newer health issue. I was diagnosed with Multiple sclerosis in 2010. This has brought me a deeper understanding of what it can mean to be ‘disabled’. I’ve met some absolutely amazing people who are living with MS, living well, and facing their struggles with hope and courage (and good humour). Having MS has certainly opened up new opportunities to me. It has given me insight into ways different people deal with things that happen in their lives. Some face what they have, and deal with it well. Some hide from it, some deal with it badly.

Since receiving this diagnosis, I have begun working on my memoir, dealing with my new life with MS. This memoir is written in verse, with some poetry as well. It is the book I was looking for when I received my health news – a book I couldn’t find. I hope ‘Mick Jane and Me, Living Well with MS’, will be published later this year. Certainly this memoir wouldn’t have been written if I didn’t have this disability.

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