Poetry in Notion - Does poetry help us in times of need?

Hi all! 

Poetry is the go-to in times of need for many of us, but does it help? If we look at social media, yes, yes, yes.

After the Orlando massacre, Maggie Smith's poem went viral. It's not about Orlando per se, but about life being brutish and short--

"No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death: and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short."
Thomas Hobbes.

Good Bones

Related Poem Content Details

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.

Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine

in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,

a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways

I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least

fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative

estimate, though I keep this from my children.

For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.

For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,

sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world

is at least half terrible, and for every kind

stranger, there is one who would break you,

though I keep this from my children. I am trying

to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,

walking you through a real shithole, chirps on

about good bones: This place could be beautiful,

right? You could make this place beautiful.
BY MAGGIE SMITH

 Events can seem too incomprehensible for ordinary language, so poetry can speak to us in precise language that fits the purpose.

It can be the language of defiance and protest, which is my favourite genre of poetry. I love poetry that packs a powerful message (who doesn't get Maya Angelou's Still I Rise?) -- 'you may trod me in the very dirt/But still, like dust, I rise,' as relevant today as when she penned it in 1978. Okay, most of us know and love that poem, but when Serena Williams went on *youtube to read Angelou's poem, it went viral.

In August last year, a Sydney activist for peace wrote an anti-racism poem then had to retreat due to the negative reaction. 

Second Earth

In another world

Just like this one,

Parallel to mine,

Is a life where I never met you.

And for that I am grateful.

Stella Smith (not her real name)

We have in our blogger-midst some amazing poets such as multi-published Nilanjana Bose who many discovered through the A to Z. I've known Nila since the world began, or close enough. She joined RomanticFridayWriters in 2010, now WEP. (She won the latest WEP challenge, GARDENS! with her amazing Point me to...) Her poems always blow my mind, so I asked her to share one with us which she wrote in the aftermath of the #ParisAttacks of 2015.

All the world’s a war zone

The flowers dry, the candles burn;

both reach their ends. The world still turns.

The streets are full, the café chat

is about revenge, tit for tat,

air-strikes, mortal wounds, ground combat.

I cannot take in any of that.

I only know she won’t return.

Although each time the doorbell rings

my heart leaps once, instantly sings

then is brought to the days before.

She’ll never be back at my door.

The talk is thick with migrants, war,

how exactly to settle the score.

But I can’t relate to those things.

I just know that flowers dry rough,

that candles aren’t warm enough.

I just know my room’s gone cold,

my heart is shrivelled and grown old;

she’ll never again cross this threshold

whatever events might unfold.

That’s my truth, the rest’s just stuff.

 The old classicist, William Wordsworth said: '...thoughts ... often lie too deep for tears.' A good poet can help put those thoughts into words...

As much as we hate poetry, we really love it, don't we? Even when we don't understand it completely. It can make a thing of beauty out of ordinary things (even tennis!)

*

Thanks for coming by. I don't get to read much about poetry around the blogs so I've been thinking on this topic and shared my thoughts, random as they are. I think in the digital age, poets can fire off powerful words to encapsulate the horror, the capriciousness of life, the landscape of a world in turmoil. 

• What's your take on poetry? Love it? Hate it? Indifferent?

From the couch with Nilanjana Bose, reflecting on crafting a poem and other fascinating aspects of a writer's life.

Hi friends!

Words are the building blocks of our craft, yet, ironically, the way words are put together is often one of the facets of storytelling we’re most likely to overlook in our mad dash to perfect plot and character, dialogue and POV, and yes, to finish that novel/poetry collection/short story collection etc? But then comes a book, a luscious book such as Frances Mayes’s Bella Tuscany. You are reminded of the importance of beautiful words singing together within the harmony of perfect sentences.

Mayes sketches her life in Italy with elegiac prose that makes us feel as if we've stepped inside a poem. You can close your eyes and savour the bliss of such phrases as “The ripe peach colors of the house rhyme with yellow, rose, and apricot flowers.”

It also kind of makes you want to throw up your hands in defeat, thinking that there's absolutely no way my prose is ever going to trickle off my pen in such beautiful patterns. 

But walking amongst us are real-life poets, poets of the 21st Century. I've met some in the blogging world and I treasure them as personally I believe poetry writing is the most difficult type of writing. 

Today, reclining on the couch, is one such elegant poet, Nilanjana Bose, whose poetry seems to flow effortlessly. Perhaps she will share some secrets with us today.

Take it away, Nilanjana!

A vivid childhood memory is…

The drive back from school.  At a place called Bauchi in Nigeria.  A lot of negative news from there lately, but back then it was paradise on a platter.  The road at one point used to run straight to the horizon, and there was a little hillock at the end of it.  Very scenic. It gave me a thrill on the drive back every single day, I used to wait for it to come into view.

My most treasured possession is …

Impossible to answer! Obviously I treasure too many, must cut the clutter.

The word that best describes me is …

Amazed, most of the time.  And gobsmacked when not.  Clueless is also a good fit.

My favourite smell is…

Baby hair, preferably attached to head, and preferably of own baby. Coffee. Petrichor. In that order.

Ha! Coffee! Wish we could share a cup together! Now what song gives you goosebumps?

Hallelujah. Imagine. Blowing in the Wind. Annie’s Song. If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out. Bridge over Troubled Waters.  Where the Streets Have no Name. Mull of Kintyre.  Among many others, Western and Indian. And it’s perfectly possible for me to get goosebumps from instrumentals too – the Chariots of Fire theme, or some of Armik’s stuff, for instance.  I know!  I’ve got weird skin.

I can't believe how many are my favourites too. That Chariots of Fire theme is incredible. Now let's see if we share a favourite movie…

Gone with the Wind. Phew! Finally, an easy one.

I certainly share that love with you Nila. My heart's in Atlanta! Now how about your first job…

A market assessment for typewriters.  Gave away my age with that one, oops.

I began writing when…

I was 8 years old, my Mum still has those poems and she threatens to publish them anytime she wants me to shut up.

Mums can be evil. Tell us about books you loved as a child…

Thinking here more in terms of authors than specific books, really - Enid Blytons, Richmal Crompton’s Williams series, Biggles, a series called the Bobbsey twins, Nancy Drews, Perry Masons, Agatha Christies, du Mauriers, Alistair Macleans and Desmond Bagleys are top of mind still.  I did not start reading English books till I was around 9-10 years.  All my leisure reading was in Bengali initially, English was strictly for textbooks!

Books I couldn’t put down recently…

The Lemon Tree by Sandy Tolan; Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel; The Testament of Mary by Colm Toibin; Levels of Life by Julian Barnes; The Lives of Others by Neel Mukherjee. All very different, but each one very, very good. 

Books that I enjoy are…

A bit hard to define.  I will read anything that holds my interest, and I will read up to 50-60 pages before I decide.  I won’t go out of my way to read sci-fi or spy-thrillers, but if that is what is lying around (big fans of those in my immediate family) and I have nothing else, then I will get my nose in those too. 

Not finishing books scares me. I was reading Peony in Love by Lisa See and the first half didn't grab me, but when I got to the second half of the book, it was, like WOW!! I could have missed this! 

Now I know you're a writer, Nila, so tell us about your latest project…

I have two on-going  – one is a book of short stories, am working on the tenth one there.  Don’t know if that will be final, or there will be others.

The other is a novella – which is kind of first-draft-standing-at-a-crossroads-cooling-its-heels type thingy right now.  It can get shredded and rewritten into a full length novel.  Or it might get shredded into a short.  In the latter case I am going to coolly insert that into the first project ha!

…and I have just put together my first ms of poetry

What is your writing plan?

Get up, grab a coffee, swat a few flies/mosquitoes buzzing around the vacant brain, wait for words to come, wrestle them to the ground/screen if they turn up.  If they don’t, grab another coffee, swat a few more flying bugs...repeat till the poem/flash/story looks like one.

Seriously flawed in the planning department - I just look at prompts and look blank and swing between panic and writing. Push the words out, and then tweak.  Sometimes I have the ending clear in mind, sometimes the beginning, and I join the dots A to B somehow.  Sometimes I have more than an A and B, maybe a C, D, E as well, but that is rare. It holds together for me presumably because I write shorts.  Poetry is of course slightly more unplannable and messy.

Where do you do most of your writing?

On the couch… :)
I don’t have any special room/space where I write, do it anywhere.  There is nothing special about my writing, I just get up in the morning, and if life doesn’t get in the way, sit down and write.

I relax by…

Reading mostly, walking if I have nothing to read.  Getting into some open space or other, listening to water, watching the open skies will also do the trick.

The point of life is…

Never to arrive, and never to return -

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” ~ Matsuo Basho

BONUS QUESTION...
What is your process for crafting a poem? 

The process is a a kind of haphazard ride, hard to pin down exactly.

It can begin with anything, a snatch of song or conversation, an image, a news story (a recent poem Asylum took off at a news item about the Rohingyas), a writing prompt or even reading a book.  Sometimes the 'prompt' gets in the head and sits quietly for ages without you knowing and then one day (or night, or at some most inconvenient time) it just takes flight, buzzing round and round literally like a bat  :-) and you have to open a window and let it out...at other times it is immediate. Whenever it happens, you just have to give in and write, it will give you no peace till you've done that, you can't focus on any other task.  

The first draft of a poem is just sitting and letting the fingers 'bleed' -  the words come in a rush and you put them down as best as you can on the laptop if it's handy, otherwise on any scrap of paper.  It is rough and maybe rhymed, maybe not, you can't force rhymes or any form onto a poem at this stage, you're just trying to put down the flashing pictures in your head before they disappear...then when that is done, you fine tune and shape it - in a way more pleasing to you, retaining the pictures but hitching a different word here and there to make it clearer and sharper.  Some poems feel complete right after this second stage, and you leave them alone if that is so.  Some don't, so you revisit them later and try to find out why they feel a little 'off the mark' and edit further till they do feel right.  There is only so much control you can exercise. It is almost entirely an intuitive process. Something is already there in you almost fully formed, and you are just trying to chip off the extra material.  

More about Nilanjana...

Nilanjana is a parent, writer, poet, blogger and a market research professional.  Born in Kolkata, India, brought up in New Delhi and West Africa, she is widely travelled – her mailing address has changed some 15 times and she is always ready for the next change.  She believes in travelling light, and a sense of humour, along with the passport, is top on her packing list. Dipping into other cultures and countries, whether as an expat resident or as a tourist, refreshes her soul/writing muscles. Her bucket list includes a round-the-world trip and writing an historical novel set in Mughal, India. She speaks English, Bengali and Hindi, and understands more Arabic than she can account for.

Her poems, short stories and travel memoirs have been published in both print and on-line.  Her first book was a collection of short fiction in Bengali called Seemaheen Bidesh (Borderlessly Foreign).  Her work has appeared in print in Ananda Lipi, in multi-author Social Potpourri – An Anthology, and also online in ezines like eFiction India and other forums.  She was a contributing editor to Inner Child magazine with the byline - Passport to Our World – a monthly travel feature which ran to a 24-part series. A multi-author short fiction anthology, published by Harper Collins India, is slated for release later this year.

She is presently working on a book of poetry - The Art and Smarts of Bystanding - which explores themes of love, loss, and the singular sense of homelessness an expatriate life entails. Another WIP is her second collection of short fiction, called The Intricacies of Return, and a novella loosely titled Moonlit Waters set in post-revolution Cairo.

She lives in Bahrain and can be found on-line at Madly-in-Verse.  

Whoa! So you see Nilanjana is a prolific author. If you haven't already, please visit her blog on which she posts poetry and at times prose.

Thank you for visiting my 'From the couch' series and are enjoying learning more about the wonderful bloggers who inhabit the blogosphere. In the future I'll be welcoming Hilary Melton-Butcher and Clem Mackenzie who will pop up after their blogging breaks.

• Do you know Nilanjana? Have you read her poetry?
• Do you write poetry? Do you want to write poetry?

Poet Adura Ojo writes about breaking eggs. 'Life is a Woman Breaking Eggs' is here!

Hi everyone!

I have someone very interesting for you to meet today if you haven't already had the pleasure. I've known Adura Ojo since she first starting submitting her wonderful poetry to the prompts at RomanticFridayWriters, the precursor to Write...Edit...Publish (WEP). You will notice the amazing cover--that is the work of Kiru Taye, irrepressible author and artist, who also wrote for RFW.

I read recently that one way to improve our prose is to read poetry. I do. But I don't always understand it. However, Adura's poetry is accessible, even to me, after I read it through a few times. It can't be hurried.

I hope you will read Adura's post, read her poem, and consider buying her wonderful book of poetry which comes highly recommended by me.

Poetry and Me - Adura Ojo

Hi there. I am the author of 'Life is a Woman Breaking Eggs'. It gives me great pleasure to be featured on Denise's blog once again. We've been friends practically since the first day I identified myself as a writer and clicked away happily on my laptop.

My Life

I was born in London. My parents were studying in the UK at the time. When they were done, we moved back to Nigeria where I was raised with four siblings. My childhood was happy. I did my first degree, English Studies, in Nigeria and returned to the UK at age 21. Life can be tough as an 'immigrant.' Although I was born in the UK, my Nigerian identity and accent make me an 'immigrant' in the eyes of British society. I describe some of these experiences in the book.

Influences

Poetry and music are my muses when it comes to embracing life with all its joys and madness. I love Maya Angelou...a poet who lived in every sense of the word and taught the world so much. I'm also a fan of Warsan Shire, EE Cummings and Sylvia Plath. I write poetry as therapy. It is therapy like no other. I find that I can manage some of life's demons through poetic expression. A lot of 'Life is a Woman Breaking Eggs' is autobiographical; it is also reflective of the experiences of people I have been fortunate to meet on my journey and how their experiences have impacted on me.

How I Write

I'm an instinctive writer. I don't have a time slot, routine or ritual. I write mostly at night when it's quiet and there are no distractions. I'm a night owl so it's more productive to write at night.

Motivation

Poetry to me is an offering that's accessible to its readers. It's a great way to tell a story and to access emotions. I want non-poetry readers to read my work and feel that poetry isn't bad after all. That would be great!

'Window' is a poem from the book that I'd like to share with you. When I read 'Window' again this afternoon; I saw a completely different story to the one on my mind when I wrote it a few years ago. The power of interpretation is one of the things I love about poetry. I wonder what your interpretation would be?


Window

Looking over the window

pains the soul

desire dripping rain

going nowhere

eyes of unseen sun

eclipse of moons gone

I’m waiting for a windfall

spare me the tsunami tears

don’t you know

our eyes are closed to the world?

save your drowning swim
for cheap vodka
bought with our future

be happy, my love
our numbers came up
in silent breath
clear as glass

embrace the cardboard mirror
blowing kisses of hopelessness
at your Oscar worthy tsunami

no threading back
hope’s canvas

our shreds like hot coals
walk in light’s night

©Adura Ojo, Life is a Woman Breaking Eggs (2014)

Available in Kindle and Paperback.

Thanks for reading.

Like my author page
Follow me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on 'Life is a Woman.'

Thank you, Denise, for your gift of friendship and for hosting me on your blog.

Adura, it's been wonderful reading this post. I wish you good health and happiness!

• Do you read poetry? 
• Who are your favourite poets? 
• Has any specific poet influenced your life?
• Do you like the sound of Adura's poetry?

Sign ups are open for the WEP September challenge. You are welcome to submit flash fiction, non-fiction, poetry, artwork, photos. Please join us.

Here is a sunflower for blogger Tina Downey who passed away recently. RIP Tina

.

Inspirational literary women who inspire me - today - Maya Angelou.

Hi my friends!

I want to pay tribute to a wonderful writer who died today. I mourn Maya Angelou, the prolific African-American writer who penned more than 30 books, won numerous awards, and was honored last year by the National Book Awards for her service to the literary community.

I first came across Angelou many years ago through her wonderful poem and auto-biography by the same name: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Even though describing metaphorically the deep pain and suffering of the Negro, its tone lifts and inspires the reader. She writes in the final stanza:

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

At first, Angelou doesn't even know what freedom is, but she understands that her life is not the one she wants. So she does what she can, singing her song, and by the end of the poem, and towards the end of her life, she's a little bit closer to freedom.

In her book of essays, Wouldn't Take Nothing for my Journey Now, Angelou is nothing if not opinionated and forthright. One her essays, Our Boys, tackles racism. 

'The plague of racism is insidious,' she says, 'entering into our minds as smoothly and quietly and invisibly as floating airborne microbes enter into our bodies to find lifelong purchase in our bloodstreams.'

Angelou goes on to say, 'It is time for the preachers, the rabbis, the priests and pundits, and the professors to believe in the awesome wonder of diversity so that they can teach those who follow them. It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength. We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter their color; equal in importance no matter their texture. 

Our young must be taught that racial pecularities do exist, but that beneath the skin beyond the differing features and into the true heart of being, fundamentally, we are more alike...than we are unalike.'

...Mirror twins are different
although their features jibe,
and lovers think quite different
thoughts
while lying side by side.

...

I note the obvious differences
beween each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

1. Maya Angelou 

   Maya Angelou was an American author and poet. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, and several books of poetry, and is credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning more than fifty years.
2. Rest in Peace, Maya...

Do you know and love Maya Angelou? Do you find her inspirational? What literary women inspire you?

#RomanticFridayWriters - Challenge No 34- My poem - She Wears My Ring.

Long time between posts, but I've been preparing for the A - Z Challenge.

For my RFW post this week I've challenged myself by writing another poem. It's an urge that hits me from time to time. I know I have a lot to learn, but I thought the prompt called for some poetic lines. So, with apologies to D.H. Lawrence (from whom I stole the idea of the 'love/sea' and the first line, which is a common enough expression) - I believe there's no copyright on ideas!, I present my effort for the challenge. The words 'She Wears My Ring' had to be included, as well as inspiration from the song lyrics.

For the clever poets amongst us, I would appreciate your suggestions for improvement...

She Wears My Ring

Don’t you love me?
she asked.

I fell to my knees
and cried:

How could you doubt me?

Then don’t demean our love
she said.

In matters of emotional importance

you have so much to learn.

So, I handed her the ring

and thought she would toss it into the ocean

so fierce were her simmering green eyes.

They say in the sea love cannot live

But I see the dolphins

leaping

frolicking
at sunset

slick skins shimmering in the dying rays of translucent light…
ah, there is love.

She twirled the ring between her thumb and forefinger.

The facets twinkled in the dying rays of the sun –

Emerald green (like her eyes)

Diamonds encircled (like my love for her)

Please accept this ring as a token of my eternal devotion,

I said.

She turned her gaze from the sea
and the dolphins.

She looked into my soul -

Perhaps you do love me,

she said.

I turned my gaze to the sea -

Is that a dolphin

nosing the water in sheer delight?

I know exactly how that dolphin feels…

I turn to my love

and smile into her emerald eyes -

My love is as deep as the ocean,

I cry.

I hold her hand,

I slip the ring on her finger.

She wears my ring

for all the world to see.

©DeniseCovey2012

FCA 

Please check out some more entries from the list below:

get the InLinkz code

Any questions? Leave a comment and I'll get back to you...