Pancake powered conversation
Lemon and honey with butter then port
Solving the problems of the whole planet
Sleeping is always our last resort
This is as much poetry as I can produce at any one sitting. Anything longer is rare. Still I hope it gives a feel for what I had experienced and is celebratory of the kind of 'good life' I feel my friends enjoy. There is something in its vibe that is reminiscent for me of the B52s song Deadbeat Club (yes I am citing silly pop music in a post on poetry).
The unusual thing with this poem is that it has nothing to do with the two topics that have provoked all my poetry over the last several years. One is my medieval fantasy setting, The Lands, which I have written short poetry for to provide the world with a bit of texture. Fantasy worlds need some things to make them seem well-rounded - maps are one and poetry is another.
The other provocation for poetry in me is intimate relations. Somehow the format of poetry helps me to process such intense experiences. However such writing is also rather personal so I feel is best left offline for now. Mind you there is one thing of mine that conveniently fits into both boxes in that it is set in the former but mimics the feel of the latter. I shall reproduce the entirely fictional The Selkie here:
The stranger came in need of shelter
I welcomed him that sunset hour
He partook of my open larder
And more we shared in bed together
At dawn I rose to find him gone
My jewels I'd lost yet still I'm warm
This is hardly anything good. As I say - I do this rarely. But I do deem it a bit of fun. Do you think this is worth entering into a 'poetry slam'?
Note: Take a look here if you want some background on the Selkie of The Lands.
Labels: Creative Writing