#quirkychristmas and a very happy Christmas from the shed
Delighted to see my ‘night before Christmas’ poem on Abegail Morley’s The Poetry Shed today! Huge thanks!
I’m about halfway through my mission to write (or at least start) a poem a day. I wish I could say it’s been easy. I started on the 6th February, so by now I should have about 26/27 poems I think. But alas – some days I’ve been unwell or just haven’t fitted in the time, although on a couple of days I’ve managed two. Here’s a summary of what I’ve got so far:
18 complete first drafts.
2 started but nowhere near complete.
1 in outline plan only, nothing written.
3 days gap when I wasn’t well.
Of the eighteen complete first drafts, looking at them now I would say five I am quite pleased with so far even though they still need work (although one of them is a ‘funny’, more for performance than publishing) and another 4 have potential.
On the whole I’m very pleased because I think these kinds of ratios (of useful-to-useless material) are what I produce anyway, but by making myself write more frequently I’ve concertina-d them into a shorter space of time, which was partly the object of the exercise.
(Picture: Surreal Muse on Flickr)
A wonderful little poem by Seamus Heaney. Seemed right for the season.
‘Wordsworth’s Skates’ from District & Circle (Faber & Faber, 2006).
Happy Christmas.
The Rialto: bedside reading for this week at least.
Very proud that I have a poem in it on page 50.
The Last
They’ve been coming since posters were invented:
sometimes in dreams, to the tipping of cowboy hats
or dressed in Liverpool shirts. Each one appeared
in my diary, in code. My mother wouldn’t explain,
I couldn’t ask. And still they would come, insistent.
They left my body as they found it: I never wanted
them to stay, or change things. It’s been a while since
I wrote a diary. I don’t know how many there were,
I wasn’t counting. Too busy getting on with
the business of getting on. For the last, though,
I would have thrown a party, marked the occasion
in some way, worn something red, if I had known.