Hi everybody! Big thanks to all you lovely people who came along to our first session of 2019! On Saturday we looked at Surrealism and Absurdism in poetry.
As always, the resources have gone up on a page on the blog, which you can find here or on the 'Sessions' tab above.
A reminder that our next session - and the last for this term - is on Saturday 9th February. As was requested in Session 2, we will be turning our attention to page versus performance poetry. See you all then!
As usual, feel free to contact me (or send across your poems) via email at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Amy
inspired by 'Amy', by Arthur Hughes
by Sally Shaw
He paints me a fragile thing; a flower in my loosely held hair
I gently check no hair has lost its place or space
He paints my face to show my gaze and my emotions meek
Longing for my lover to arrive as I seek his carving of my name
He paints the ivy climbing over time; time of two lovers
I will wait and wait for my lover with no protesting
No, he paints me wrong; he paints a man’s view of a woman’s place in society
This is not my first time of waiting, no sight of cupid’s arrow
I feel like Atalanta; I have strength alone; a man has to be worthy
It is not my place to be a midst the shady damp woods where goblins and
Pixies roam. I have no fear of the darkening wood or the creeping ivy
If I take a lover a task of worth, he will first succeed to my satisfaction
by Sally Shaw
He paints me a fragile thing; a flower in my loosely held hair
I gently check no hair has lost its place or space
He paints my face to show my gaze and my emotions meek
Longing for my lover to arrive as I seek his carving of my name
He paints the ivy climbing over time; time of two lovers
I will wait and wait for my lover with no protesting
No, he paints me wrong; he paints a man’s view of a woman’s place in society
This is not my first time of waiting, no sight of cupid’s arrow
I feel like Atalanta; I have strength alone; a man has to be worthy
It is not my place to be a midst the shady damp woods where goblins and
Pixies roam. I have no fear of the darkening wood or the creeping ivy
If I take a lover a task of worth, he will first succeed to my satisfaction
Thank you for sharing this poem, inspired by the activities in Session 2, with us Sally! There are some really beautiful lines in there - 'I feel like Atalanta; I have strength alone; a man has to be worthy' is particularly striking. Your use of internal rhyme, particularly in the first stanza, is really deft: 'place/space/face', and 'meek/seek'.
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Two poems
by Steve Harrison
Corporation Street Birmingham March 1914
waits as a fresco on top of the stairs
after the marble and mosaic vestibule
the brass knuckled, oak hand-railed stairway
to greet visitors
at the entrance to Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery.
It holds a secret.
Citizens depicted proud of this corporate life
are Joseph Southall’s friends and family
models to prosperity
furred, feathered and alive.
A Quaker’s quiet brush strokes
Painted two years later beyond the title
looking back at peaceful streets
before Brum tools itself up for war.
Appt with Dr Williams
I stare at his note pad
so much depends on my words
how I describe the symptoms
the rash the dryness.
He writes
'red weals on white skin'
advises water
prescribes an uncture for Chicken Pox
Thank you for these poems Steve! Two very different pieces, but each brilliant in their own right. I love the line 'before Brum tools itself up for the war'.
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Corporation Street Birmingham March 1914
waits as a fresco on top of the stairs
after the marble and mosaic vestibule
the brass knuckled, oak hand-railed stairway
to greet visitors
at the entrance to Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery.
It holds a secret.
Citizens depicted proud of this corporate life
are Joseph Southall’s friends and family
models to prosperity
furred, feathered and alive.
A Quaker’s quiet brush strokes
Painted two years later beyond the title
looking back at peaceful streets
before Brum tools itself up for war.
Appt with Dr Williams
I stare at his note pad
so much depends on my words
how I describe the symptoms
the rash the dryness.
He writes
'red weals on white skin'
advises water
prescribes an uncture for Chicken Pox
Thank you for these poems Steve! Two very different pieces, but each brilliant in their own right. I love the line 'before Brum tools itself up for the war'.
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
I am the God of Water
a found poem
by Jood Gough
Your skin cracks like a pod:
there is never enough water.
I am a god
an ever fixed mark
that looks on tempests and is never shaken,
even to the edge of doom.
Imagine the drip of it
the small splash of it, echo
in a tin mug, voice
of a kindly god.
But I am a god no longer kind;
for you, old men, you speak your youth in whispers
you eternally consult
you eternally retract
by Jood Gough
Your skin cracks like a pod:
there is never enough water.
I am a god
an ever fixed mark
that looks on tempests and is never shaken,
even to the edge of doom.
Imagine the drip of it
the small splash of it, echo
in a tin mug, voice
of a kindly god.
But I am a god no longer kind;
for you, old men, you speak your youth in whispers
you eternally consult
you eternally retract
you eternally do nothing -
even to the edge of doom.
I shall rip out your apology-tongues
hurl them into a hell of ice -
and no blessing shall ever sing on your bones.
Poems used:
Shakespeare Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”
Imtiaz Dharker “Blessing”
Gregory Corso “I am 25”
Thank you so much for sharing, Jood! I especially love the anaphora in the fourth stanza, the repetition of 'you eternally' which gives the poem's voice a godike stance, followed by the verbs ('consult', 'retract') picked from Corso's poem!
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
even to the edge of doom.
I shall rip out your apology-tongues
hurl them into a hell of ice -
and no blessing shall ever sing on your bones.
Poems used:
Shakespeare Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”
Imtiaz Dharker “Blessing”
Gregory Corso “I am 25”
Thank you so much for sharing, Jood! I especially love the anaphora in the fourth stanza, the repetition of 'you eternally' which gives the poem's voice a godike stance, followed by the verbs ('consult', 'retract') picked from Corso's poem!
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Session 2 resources
Thank you to those who fought through the wind, rain, and cold to attend the December session of Pen to Paper! It was a small group, but we were joined by two new members - Tarik and Nigel - who we hope will return again in January to meet the rest of you!
Clicking on the 'Sessions' tab above will take you to a new page, where you will see the link for the 'Session 2: Beats' resources. This is an outline for the activities we tried out in the session, all of which can be tried at home, for those of you who couldn't make it.
As always, if you have any completed or 'in progress' pieces which you would like to share and receive feedback on, do email me. The next session is on 19 January, meeting in the Edwardian Tearoom at 10.45am. Please remember to bring a mug if you would like a hot drink!
On the 'Session 2: Beats' page, you will see that the last activity was a game of consequences, where we used the folding of paper to try and achieve the spontaneous, digressive style of the Beats! Here are the two poems created in the session, which are truly magnificent pieces of work...!
[Poem 1]
The gaudy daylit carousel has none of its nighttime flare.
Steeds, overdressed, stamp - embarrassed.
Immobile they stand
crowds pass below, misunderstanding silence
silence that wraps around us
a comfort hug, a chilling shrug
at once warm and warning you -
know that nothing permanent
the top of a bus
wiping condensation from windows.
Whispers rise up in the morning mist
as I run from my evil spirits
something even darker steps in front
to drag me even further towards hell.
[Poem 2]
Modern versions of fairytales:
do they teach us how to live?
at Pat Benson's boxing academy
the learning zone
we learn that what we have was earned
forefathers fought for us, mothers too
but the battles have changed
time has passed, reasons are lost
reason has passed, time is lost
tomorrow becomes today
and what do we do then?
when there are no more tomorrows to look to?
Clicking on the 'Sessions' tab above will take you to a new page, where you will see the link for the 'Session 2: Beats' resources. This is an outline for the activities we tried out in the session, all of which can be tried at home, for those of you who couldn't make it.
As always, if you have any completed or 'in progress' pieces which you would like to share and receive feedback on, do email me. The next session is on 19 January, meeting in the Edwardian Tearoom at 10.45am. Please remember to bring a mug if you would like a hot drink!
On the 'Session 2: Beats' page, you will see that the last activity was a game of consequences, where we used the folding of paper to try and achieve the spontaneous, digressive style of the Beats! Here are the two poems created in the session, which are truly magnificent pieces of work...!
[Poem 1]
The gaudy daylit carousel has none of its nighttime flare.
Steeds, overdressed, stamp - embarrassed.
Immobile they stand
crowds pass below, misunderstanding silence
silence that wraps around us
a comfort hug, a chilling shrug
at once warm and warning you -
know that nothing permanent
the top of a bus
wiping condensation from windows.
Whispers rise up in the morning mist
as I run from my evil spirits
something even darker steps in front
to drag me even further towards hell.
[Poem 2]
Modern versions of fairytales:
do they teach us how to live?
at Pat Benson's boxing academy
the learning zone
we learn that what we have was earned
forefathers fought for us, mothers too
but the battles have changed
time has passed, reasons are lost
reason has passed, time is lost
tomorrow becomes today
and what do we do then?
when there are no more tomorrows to look to?
Group Work
Just posting the notes a couple of groups/pairs gave me, from their close reading of imagism poems.
On 'This Is Just To Say', by William Carlos Williams:
On 'In the City Square', by T. E. Hulme:
On 'This Is Just To Say', by William Carlos Williams:
On The Train
by Marion Cockin
Women
wearing sunglasses
laugh
but do not share the joke.
Outside
leaves float past
like orange butterflies.
Though the leaves are autumn orange, this poem has the feeling of spring about it - is it the sunglasses the women wear, or the image of floating butterflies? A very evocative piece. Marion has also framed and reframed the piece in two other iterations, and it is fascinating to see how slight adjustments can alter the meaning:
Women
wearing sunglasses
on their heads
are laughing.
Outside
leaves float past
like orange butterflies.
On the train -
Women are laughing
but do not share
their joke.
Outside
leaves of orange butterflies
float past.
Women
wearing sunglasses
laugh
but do not share the joke.
Outside
leaves float past
like orange butterflies.
Though the leaves are autumn orange, this poem has the feeling of spring about it - is it the sunglasses the women wear, or the image of floating butterflies? A very evocative piece. Marion has also framed and reframed the piece in two other iterations, and it is fascinating to see how slight adjustments can alter the meaning:
Women
wearing sunglasses
on their heads
are laughing.
Outside
leaves float past
like orange butterflies.
On the train -
Women are laughing
but do not share
their joke.
Outside
leaves of orange butterflies
float past.
Thanks for sharing, Marion! If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Edwardian Tea Room
by Jood Gough
Edwardian tea room softening faded
sepia powdered photographs
demure table lamp light genteel and flowers.
But now
the twenty-first century
muscles in
bustling and chattering
laughing and clattering.
Well-mannered tables and chairs
covering their ears
breath in
making room
for sudden flocks of girls
with green hair
jostling dads
proud with wee bairns
bevies of old ladies
smiling
pressed up to middle-age
quietly crying.
Meanwhile granny reposing in rose-pink armchair
pens postcards home, so sweet decorum
sidles beside her quietly hiding till evening returns.
Thank you for sharing, Jood! This poem draws neat parallels between the traditional setting and the modern characters who populate it - I especially like the phrase 'sudden flocks of girls', which mingles the natural with the human.
Jood has since condensed down her imagism poem to these four, neat lines:
Edwardian tea room
soft - faded - sepia
meets twenty-first century
green-haired girls.
Fantastic! If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Edwardian tea room softening faded
sepia powdered photographs
demure table lamp light genteel and flowers.
But now
the twenty-first century
muscles in
bustling and chattering
laughing and clattering.
Well-mannered tables and chairs
covering their ears
breath in
making room
for sudden flocks of girls
with green hair
jostling dads
proud with wee bairns
bevies of old ladies
smiling
pressed up to middle-age
quietly crying.
Meanwhile granny reposing in rose-pink armchair
pens postcards home, so sweet decorum
sidles beside her quietly hiding till evening returns.
Thank you for sharing, Jood! This poem draws neat parallels between the traditional setting and the modern characters who populate it - I especially like the phrase 'sudden flocks of girls', which mingles the natural with the human.
Jood has since condensed down her imagism poem to these four, neat lines:
Edwardian tea room
soft - faded - sepia
meets twenty-first century
green-haired girls.
Fantastic! If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Reflections on The Descent of the Holy Ghost, Botticelli
by Portland Jones
pushing, pushing
let me closer
draped arms reach, fearing to touch
let me see, let me see not,
too bright is the Godhead.
They sit on cold, carved stone.
rising, rising
rustling wheat
jostling for light that warms to the end
sun god ripened seed
life sharp cut short.
Death, no long sad dying.
Thank you so much for sharing, Portland! I love the comparison you've drawn between the figures in the painting and 'rustling wheat' - very evocative!
If anyone else would like to share their work, do email them to me at nellie.cole@sky.com.
Session 1 resources
Hello, and thank you to everyone who attended the first session of Pen to Paper today! I hope you found the discussions and activities fun and informative, and you got to the know the group a little bit.
Clicking on the 'Sessions' tab above will take you to a new page, where you can access all the activities set and resources used each month. Clicking on the 'Session 1: Imagism' link will give you a breakdown of the 'urban/rural' and 'crowds' activities, the Imagist poets and poems we discussed, and some useful links. There is also a link on this page for the 'Tips for Poetic Form', covered at the start of the session.
Clicking on the 'About' tab above will give you the guidelines and expectations of the course.
If you have any completed or 'in progress' works that you would like featured on the blog, do send them to me via email (nellie.cole@sky.com). It would be great to see snippets of your work, and this would be a handy way for you to get some helpful feedback from your peers.
The next session is on 15 December. We'll meet once again at the Edwardian Tearoom at 10.45am. Please bring a copy of a poem you admire to the session (on paper or electronically).
See you then!
Clicking on the 'Sessions' tab above will take you to a new page, where you can access all the activities set and resources used each month. Clicking on the 'Session 1: Imagism' link will give you a breakdown of the 'urban/rural' and 'crowds' activities, the Imagist poets and poems we discussed, and some useful links. There is also a link on this page for the 'Tips for Poetic Form', covered at the start of the session.
Clicking on the 'About' tab above will give you the guidelines and expectations of the course.
If you have any completed or 'in progress' works that you would like featured on the blog, do send them to me via email (nellie.cole@sky.com). It would be great to see snippets of your work, and this would be a handy way for you to get some helpful feedback from your peers.
The next session is on 15 December. We'll meet once again at the Edwardian Tearoom at 10.45am. Please bring a copy of a poem you admire to the session (on paper or electronically).
See you then!
Hello!
and welcome to the Pen to Paper blog. This will be the online portal for all your Pen to Paper needs, including session summaries (in case you miss anything), activity outlines (in case you want to try anything at home), access to resources and links to reading. It is also a community space, for you to ask questions, post comments, and get involved in discussions.
I'll be setting this blog up over the next week or so, so apologies if it looks a little sparse at the moment! You can all help with this, by heading over to the discussion page and commenting on the first post there to introduce yourself.
I'll be setting this blog up over the next week or so, so apologies if it looks a little sparse at the moment! You can all help with this, by heading over to the discussion page and commenting on the first post there to introduce yourself.
- Let us know who you are
- What drew you to Pen to Paper
- What you hope to get from the sessions.
Thank you all for expressing your interest in this venture and signing up!
Nellie x
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