Rather pushed for time!

I must admit to struggling a little with NaPoWriMo this time. For a variety of reasons life is extremely busy just now. I'm very glad I haven't committed to putting my daily poems on the blog! Some may see the light of day eventually but they are in a very rudimentary form in my notebook at present ... Still, at least they're there.

Tomorrow I'm off to the Royal Agricultural University in Cirencester for a Relax and Write weekend course on writing about the past. It looks as if it should be really interesting and it certainly has direct relevance to the major project I'm undertaking at the moment. Talking about writing about the past - I'm currently reading "Portrait of Orkney" by the wonderful Scottish poet the late George Mackay Brown. It's a fascinating account of the heritage and islands from which he came - some poetry, mainly prose, but prose that is so poetic in nature there's really no divide. A lovely book to read.

Interesting evenings

We're well into NaPoWriMo now - but it's proving a time to listen and to read a lot of poetry as well as to write it. As it should be, of course - I don't think you can hope to write without being an avid reader too, taking every chance to widen your own knowledge and understanding of the art. And the past week has provided some great opportunities to do so - at New Bohemians last Friday, Buzzwords on Sunday and at a tremendous reading on Monday at the Suffolk Anthology bookshop here in Cheltenham.

Two American poets, Katherine E. Young and Rose Solari, had been in the UK for the Oxford Literary Festival. Their reading, "Wayfaring Strangers: Identity Beyond Borders", gave fascinating insights into two different approaches. The two women are obviously very used to reading together and complimented each other beautifully. Rose read from her third collection "The Last Girl"; I found her poems, several of which related to family, very moving. Katherine - a translator by background - read some of her own poems from "Day Of The Border Guards" but also a couple of her translations from Russian poets. I'm not overly familiar with Russian history and culture but her poems, and the stories behind them, have certainly whetted my appetite - lots to follow up there!

Rose and Katherine

The Brokenborough Poets

An interesting evening at Writers in the Brewery in Cirencester yesterday - the Brokenborough Poets were this month's guests, reading from their anthology "Fieldwork". They're a long established group who meet monthly at the Horse Guards pub just outside Malmsbury; I had heard about them from my friend and Catchword colleague Liz Carew, who is one of their number, but this was my first experience of listening to their excellent work. I really enjoyed their variety of approaches and styles and, when I got home, read the anthology straight through, cover to cover. Some really good poetry there.

Another poetry event coming up on Friday (April 1st) - do join us if you're in the Cheltenham area. The New Bohemians evening coincides with a printmaking exhibition at deepspace artworks in Hamilton Street so is taking as its theme poetry inspired by the visual arts. Readings, a viewing of the exhibition, a classical music interlude, drinks and nibbles, to say nothing of the haiku competition, all for £6.50! 19.00 for 19.30 if you can make it - it's sure to be an enjoyable evening.

Thinking about it!

Nearly that time again! To do or not to do?! I did manage to write a poem a day throughout last April (at least in first draft) and a few of them went on to see the light of day properly afterwards. But, having committed to the project, I did find it a wee bit stressful, given the inevitable other calls on my time.

There's something very motivating though about being part of a truly world-wide phenomenon. National Poetry Month started in the States and Canada twenty years ago and then in 2003 Maureen Thorson, a poet living in Washington DC, linked it to a poetry writing exercise where people posted on their blogs the poems they'd written daily throughout the month. NaPoWriMo was born. It's certainly taken off since.

If you're moved to have a go - and I think I shall probably do so - there are some great prompts put together this year by mslexia and the Poetry School. Have a look on the website (www.mslexia/workshop/poetry-writing-workshops) and think about it!

Friends and fellow writers

Over the past three or four years I've been fortunate to work with some excellent local poets and writers. The two groups I work most closely with - Catchword and Picaresque - have provided me with tremendous support and inspiration - and, more than once, with shoulders to cry on!

My friend and Picaresque colleague Jane Malone is probably the most modest person I know, but I so admire her work and I have learned a lot from her. She has the enviable talent of being able to take the most ordinary things and to weave them into some magic poetry. But she also addresses some really big issues in a very down to earth way, as the poem which she has kindly agreed to let me put on the blog this week illustrates. Thank you, Jane - for the poem and for what you've taught me.

Persephone Drowned

You’ve not seen a spring like it. Cataracts spilling

from the clouds. The road washed away. Your cottage

mildewed, fusty, as if you are hunkering underground.

Outside, a quagmire. Saplings uprooted, branches snapped,

daffodils crushed like fallen stars. It makes you stop, breathe

words you’ve heard on the news – flood, sea-level, disaster.

And suddenly you’re on hands and knees grubbing in mud

for seedlings, bulbs, new growth. Remembering the sweet dark soil,

how it offered up richness letting the seasons turn through your hands.

Believing it was enough to keep one patch of earth green.

I started writing poetry three years ago after I retired. This particular poem was written during all the bad weather two years ago when news of flooding was filling our television screens and I was feeling particularly concerned about the effects of global warming.

Jane Malone.

Recognizing one's limitations!

Spring obviously sprang whilst we were away. This morning when I was walking my dog I was delighted to find the hedgerows alive with primroses and violets; this afternoon I did part of the Wordsworth Walk in the hills up above Llandogo and, despite an overcast sky and a chilly wind, there were signs everywhere of emerging shoots and budding branches.

Half a lifetime ago I knew the area now designated the Wordsworth Walk well - but then it was not so clearly marked and had none of the story boards and inscriptions that outline the poet's love of the surroundings and grace those woodland tracks and viewpoints. Many of the strategically placed benches that look out over the stunning scenery have quotations carved on them. One which was particularly special to me in the past carries the wonderful lines ".. their colours and their forms were then to me / an appetite, a feeling and a love". I sat there for a while trying to compose some lines of my own - but found such a precedent just too intimidating!

A Northern Odyssey

I think it was Emily Dickinson who wrote "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else". I've certainly felt like that over the past two weeks; I had thought that a trip to the Faroes, Iceland and the Orkneys would afford some welcome space and time to think and to write, but the whole fortnight was so amazing that I hardly did either! Now that I'm home again though, with the places I've seen and the things that I've done still clear in my mind (and fortunately copiously photographed for back-up), I'm hoping that I can put pen to paper and do justice to the wonderful scenery I saw, the fantastic people I met and the great experiences I had.

A driving force to go north at what could have proved a dicey time of the year was a long-held wish to see the Northern Lights - and I did, two evenings running. On neither occasion was I in a truly dark spot but they were beautiful even against the inevitable light pollution, firstly of Reykjavik and then from the ship I was travelling on. Another motivation was to learn more of Viking myths and legends, and I was fortunate enough to meet and to hear a series of talks from Sir James Hodge, an expert on them. Consequently one of the few bits of writing that I did manage combined the two!

Photograph courtesy of Rhiannon Norfolk

Aurora Borealis

(after an Icelandic myth on the spirits of the dead)

Freed from earth,

watch them light torches

in Creation's fire,

bear them aloft

through cavernous heavens,

sky-warriors on steeds

of speed and splendour,

rendering safe the path

for those who follow -

that their darkest night

may hold no fears,

that their hardest journey

may be joyful. 

(Copyright Gill Garrett 2016)