I try to keep her grounded
Sensible
Focused
But her avian superpowers
Mental flapping and fluttering
Resist the attempt
She dreams of spreading her wings
She wants to soar
Written for: Weekend Writing Prompt #275 – Avian | Word count: 29
Piling up the rubble and sweeping the dust I tidy the ruins Of an anxious mind Fractures in stonework And shattered glass Visible to be me but no-one else There are ghosts here Haunting memories of bygone days Whispering words of judgement and doubt The truth is different, I know Smoke and mirrors distort and contort Warp, bend and buckle what is, was and may be They need these ruins as much as I For without them Neither of us would exist So I dwell here in these echoes Keeping company with shades Ever searching for the fact in their fiction
Give me the cold and grey The picturesque monotone Of a watercolour painting Brush strokes in variations of British weather Enchant me with silver skies Charm me with hard granite and rocky outcrops Offer me storm clouds as love tokens And downpours as a sign you're missing me Give me the cold and grey
Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #264: Picturesque | Word count: 54
You might have heard that over on Whispers and Echoes, we currently have a very special open call: Sorta-Sonnets from Guest Editor, Bartholomew Barker.
The call has been open for a few weeks now (and closes on the 24th June 2022), and since then I’ve been wondering if I am able to write one. Those who have been here a while will know I do try and write some poetry, mainly free verse, sometimes haikus. And I have been lucky enough to have had some of my poetry published. However, I have never in my life written a sonnet. But can I write a sorta-sonnet?
I’m going to try.
Bartholomew Barker explained in the submissions call post what the rules are for a sorta-sonnet:
Nice. Simple. Clear instructions. And best of all, there’s no need to get to grips with a particular meter and rhyming scheme. It sounds do-able…
So here’s my first attempt at a sorta-sonnet:
These Words
I craft worlds out of words That only exist in my head These words build cities and Grow gardens, make history as Well as bake cakes These words that create Transform into people, with Thoughts and actions all their own And so my words become theirs Or is it the other way around? These words...their voices My craft...their art My daydreams...their adventures All inside my head
You’ll find them in the liminal spaces
The cracks in the pavement
Where the sea meets the shore
Those places between
Here and there
Whispering words from another place
Where the dark gives birth to the light
Where dreams are born
Hope’s hunting ground
Where those who dwell in the margins
Unseen, unheard, unnoticed
Can make thunder with a single breath
And enchantment is carried on the wind
And rain drenches the land in blessing
Where songs are spells
Where paintings on cave walls
And carvings in stone
And drawings made in sand and soil
Tell tales of the future
Where emptiness, waiting to be filled,
Is the cauldron of inspiration
And a blink of an eye
Holds the secrets to all creation
I collect tea dust and biscuit crumbs
Letting them gather in the bottom
Of jar and tin
Like sacred ingredients for a magic spell I don’t know
Sometimes I stand and stare at these grains of mundane makings
For there is no awe there
Just puzzlement, mystification
One morning, with the dew still clinging to the leaves outside,
As the first rays of the sun are just beginning to enlighten my little world
I finally ask myself, “Why? What are they for?”
And I hear a voice soft and calm, like a rainfall of moon and starlight at midnight, whispering,
“Wait and see, my pretty, wait and see.”
Standing still
Pondering possibilities
Overactive imagination
Turns sense into nonsense
Lucidity, debatable
Ingenuity, unlikely
Gathering wool, always
High hopes
To achieve
Written for: Weekend Writing Prompt #259 – Spotlight | Word count: 21
A little bit of nonsense poetry this Saturday, inspired by (and putting under the spotlight) my ability to think and overthink, to dream and then dream away the day, to procrastinate over things until I’ve lost interest in them, to waste time wondering instead of just doing, to chase new stories in my head instead of finding out how the old ones end… 🙂
I’m not perfect
my faults are legion
.
I endeavour to be good
to do right
.
though I stumble
now and then
.
most important of all
I love you
.
I hope it’s enough
Written for: Weekend Writing Prompt #231 – Legion | Word count: 32
This wind of promise 1
Gives me a foretaste 2
(Of a) Heaven shower(ing) down blessings 3
Poem 5 of a series of 5
Notes: Found poetry using snippets of text from “Letter I” of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Page numbers refer to my paperback copy of the book, a Penguin Classics edition from 2003.
These snippets are from pages 1, 3 & 4 of Letter 1. Words in brackets my own addition | Title from page 3 lines 21 | 1 from page 1 line 11 | 2 from page 1 lines 10 & 11 | 3 from page 4 lines 10 & 11
I feel my heart glow 1
(As I) read with ardour 2
Those poets whose effusions 3
Entranced my soul 4
Poem 4 of a series of 5
Notes: Found poetry using snippets of text from “Letter I” of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Page numbers refer to my paperback copy of the book, a Penguin Classics edition from 2003.
These snippets are from the second page of Letter 1. Words in brackets my own addition | Title from lines 36 & 37 | 1 from line 18 | 2 from line 22 | 3 from line 32 & 33 | 4 from line 33
Sammi Cox 