poetry 101 rehab: habit

There was once a grumpy old blogger called Andy

Who thought his photos quite handy

He tried his hand at writing

Struggled with the lighting

And developed a habit by Mond’y.

(for Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab opened today for all those poets who participated in WordPress Writing 201 and you, if your inner poet craves release)

(and, in a piece of shameless self promotion, I have chosen to accompany my first contribution with the photos I used to portray my painful poetic progress)

Day 1: Water, Haiku, Simile
Day 2: Journey, Limerick, Alliteration
Day 3: Trust, Acrostic, Internal Rhyme
Day 4: Animal, Concrete Poetry, Enjambment
Day 5: Fog, Elegy, Metaphor
Weekend: Poetry Potluck
Day 6: Hero(ine), Ballad, Anaphora/Epistrophe
Day 7: Fingers, Prose Poetry, Assonance
Day 8: Drawer, Ode, Apostrophe
Day 9: Landscape, Found Poetry, Enumeratio
Day 10: Future, Sonnet, Chiasmus

future

AJT_3923 - Version 2

As he crossed the road the man he saw
Was he real the man so old and haggard
Of what did he dream was it shock and awe
Did he imagine, this old man, this laggard
The sweeping lines of time twisting
Bent out of shape defying rhyme
Did he ever want to stop climbing
Or was he content to bide his time

And the man when he saw the boy
Did he wonder what lay in store
What dreams and hopes might have that boy
A life waiting to hear the lion roar
Working and striving to do what he can
Was the man the boy or the boy the man?

(a poem about the future in the form of a sonnet with a hint of chiasmus for writing 201 – future)

(and for lucile’s  the clinic –  photo rehab)

*shot with nikon d700,  85mm f/2.8 lens, edited in aperture 3, analog efex pro 2 with double exposure filter applied, following the curve of time*

landscape

DSC_5836_4038 - 2012-04-22 at 14-24-02

two fight
for the balance
of
power

the west gate
confronts an evil
concentration
will they become
russian dolls
shaped by
diagonals
etched from
broken glass
screaming out
keep out

or just give me enough rope!

will we take the right path?

(found poetry featuring landscape and a little enumeratio for wordpress writing 201 – landscape)

*shot with nikon d700, 16-35mm f/4 lens, edited in aperture 3, silver efex pro 2, diverging paths intersect*

Notes and queries

During the last couple of weeks I have been participating in the Writing 201 Poetry course under the expert guidance and watchful eye of Ben Huberman.

Each day Ben has set us a new challenge including a word prompt, a poetic form and a device.

Today’s challenge involves responding to the word “landscape” using the found poetry form and the device of enumeratio.

My response, a piece of flagrant and unashamed self promotion 😉, is to use a landscape shot I took in the Spring of 2012 at Ada Huja, a long disused site on the banks of the Danube in Belgrade which also serves from time to time as the site for the Supernatural music festival. I used this shot for a number of reasons . Firstly because it is one of the few landscape shots I have in my archive and second because it is one of my favourite images to be found in the first edition of my book belgradestreets which featured photos drawn from my blog of the same name.

I then selected ten captions (in bold) placed beneath every second photo in my book leading up to and ending with the caption from the photo I chose to construct today’s “found” poem.

drawer(s)

cheeky wings
cheeky wings

Oh, when the day draws to a close, and the nights are long.

Do I see angels wings among your drawers?

Can you, oh wings of desire, carry me away, all night long?

Does my life hang by a thread, do I hear your muted roars?

Oh, wings of desire, cut free my bonds, make me strong.

(for wordpress writing 201 – drawer, a cheeky ode to drawer(s) with a little apostrophe)

(also for lucile’s the clinic – photo rehab)

*shot with nikon d700, 50mm f/1.4 lens, edited in photoshop cc, aperture 3, analog efex pro 2 with wetplate filter applied, undisclosed desires*

fingers

AJT_4238

Cold, icy, fingers, reaching out, twisted, full of avarice, tainted with malice. Clawing, prying, like lice. Sure in purpose, disturbing, exposing, dealing in deceit. Touched unseen by fingers, trice unexpected, so uninvited. Wait. Crisis averted, like an oasis, those fingers are not

real

(for wordpress writing 201 – fingers, a prose poem about fingers with added assonance)

(also for lucile’s the clinic – photo rehab)

*shot with nikon d700, 16-35mm f/4 lens, edited in aperture 3, analog efex pro 2 with motion filter applied, meaning redacted*

hero

the man in black
the man in black

Do you know, the man in black?

The man in black, who has a full heart.

The man in black, who made mistakes, offered his heart.

The man in black, who travelled so far, put away his heart.

The man in black, who always meant well, injured your heart.

The man in black, who some say feels naught, understood his own heart.

The man in black, who cared for them all, neglected his heart.

The man in black, who yearns to live, opens his heart.

The man in black, who with his art, reveals his heart.

The man in black, who has a full heart.

Can you love, the man in black?

for wordpress writing 201 – hero, a ballad about a hero with a sprinkling of anaphora and epistrophe

poetry potluck

after the terror
after the terror

During the last week, I have been taking part in the WordPress Writing 201: Poetry course.

Daily Post editor, Ben Huberman, has prompted us each day with a new prompt, form and a device.

This weekend, we were granted a break from the creative process and invited to share a poem that we love.

I choose to share words from a poet to whose writing I was introduced whilst living and working in Belgrade.

I have often used quotes from his work coupled with my photos on my blogs belgradestreets and belgianstreets.

These words, from Rainer Maria Rilke, once shared with me at a time when I felt empty and without hope, are simple yet compelling.

“Let everything happen to you
Beauty and terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final”

The image I chose to use today comes from a shoot in a famous cemetery that I shared recently on belgianstreets, the words seem to fit both the expression in the eyes of this dead wartime warrior, and the feelings of those he left behind.

fog

_20141130_001157

                                            memories of ascending a shattered staircase
                                      wanting and hoping and wondering
                            remembering how, in the clouds and through the fog, he first saw her face
                        would it ever be the same, after all the wandering?

(a poem about fog in the form of an elegy with a metaphorical angle for day four of Writing 201)

(and for lucile’s the clinic – photo rehab)

*shot with nikon d700, 50mm f1.4 nikkor lens, edited in aperture 3, analog ex pro 2, wet plate filter applied, mistily ambiguous*

animal

AJT_3862

                                              In the blink
		                          Of an eye, he thought
                                        To cry. Oh       how he wanted to
                        Drink. Shuffling forward,   his   claws dragging along
                             The floor.  Wretched          and old, he remembered being
			              Told that it        would be better one
					Day. So he blinked again
						One eye.

(a story featuring an animal in the form of concrete poetry with a little enjambment for day four of Writing 201)

(and for lucile’s the clinic – photo rehab)

*shot with nikon d700, 50mm f1.4 nikkor lens, edited in aperture 3, analog ex pro 2, double exposure filter applied, and a turtle*