August Note
August 22, 2008
Due to family and work commitments there will unfortunately not be a poetry prompt this week. However, there is no need to worry for it will return next week. I’ll also be making some major changes in the run-up to September to make this website bigger and better as well as a major drive to recruit more poets to join the weekly cues. In the meantime, I will go back through the previous prompts and visit any websites I somehow missed. I encourage anyone with a bit of time to do the same.
Poetry Prompt Round-Up 6
August 21, 2008
Thursday evening has once again arrived and therefore it is time for the round-up of this week’s poetry prompt which was on the subject of ‘Chance Encounters‘. I wonder if anyone has happened to meet someone special during this week from those who have entered into the prompt. The entries were as follows:
Inevitable Chance is a beautiful questioning sonnet reflecting on the possibilities of chance romance and meetings. Will love be found in the formality of an office encounter, on a friend’s sofa or in the gigantic world of cyberspace?
Mad Kane writes a limerick in celebration of her 29th Wedding Anniversary to her husband Mark. A romantic encounter on the Long Island Railroad.
Lissa’s poem conveys the magic of instant attraction amongst the crowds but one that is bound to be lost in the hustle and bustle of the rush hour.
Rio provides an exquisite haiku about the wait to bump shoulders.
Sascha Cooper has written a marvellous epic poem on the chance meeting between a beautiful barmaid and a mysterious stranger. Well worth a visit and the chance to make an acquaintance with her new blog.
Finally, Bev describes a day on a station platform amongst the crowds of strangers. A brief encounter and names are exchanged.
I would like to thank all poets who submitted their work to this week’s poetry prompt. The comments section will remain open and you can add further links at any stage. Next week’s prompt will begin tomorrow at 6pm London time. If you enjoyed your stay here and will continue to take part each week, then please spread the word about this weekly interactive poetry event. It will benefit not only myself but all of us.
Poetry Prompt 6 - ‘Chance Encounters’
August 15, 2008
This week’s poetry prompt is ‘Chance Encounters’. Write a poem about a chance encounter you’ve had or can imagine. Was it your future husband whilst on-board a flight across the Atlantic Ocean? Or maybe a small conversation with a beautiful young lady you had 30 years ago which has not faded from memory.
Two years ago I was living in central Berlin. When walking to the local supermarket one day I came across an elderly drunkard lying on a bench who sparked my interest and which resulted in a short-short-story which is as follows:
A man, lying on the bench. He seemed asleep, perhaps he was dead. That couldn’t be, he was in motion still. Fingers twitched, spread outwards ever so slightly then closed. His chest heaved, once powerful lungs expanding and contracting. The wrinkles around his eyes were deep, torturous, scars of a hard life. The eyelids fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. He was an old man, in his 70’s maybe, solid in build but weathered by the onslaught of time. On the floor, next to his reclining figure were a dozen beer bottles, all of them empty.
Long ago, his youthful vigour had disappeared. The once clear complexion without lines or blemishes, had faded into distant memory. Even he could not remember now, the days of his youth. Images from the past paraded through his mind but were distorted, mutated, like the broken film reel found in the dusty attic. Faces of those he once knew splintered into those he saw staring at his tattered clothing.
When he was awake, drinking beer after beer, in a drunken haze, he had watched people walking past. The bench was situated a few metres off the main road in a miniature park, therefore he was able to observe from a distance. From beneath the trees he had seen the mass of arms and legs, merging into one another, creating a fog that eventually sent him to slumber.
As I glanced at his large belly protruding from beneath his dark green jumper, I saw not an old drunkard but a baby being held by it’s mother, close to her breast. The loving eyes that had once looked down upon his forehead, the soft fingers that had tickled his ears and stroked his cheeks. A heart that had been filled to the brim with love, now deceased, like the innocent and playful smile of that child.
An old man, alone with his bottles, asleep in the centre of Berlin.
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Born in 1936, Werner had spent his entire life living in Berlin. From the tribulations of the Second World War he had garnered a great interest in Philosophy, especially Existentialism. He put this to use after his education by teaching in the main Berlin University. Years later, after a failed marriage and the unrelenting flashbacks from his war torn childhood, he turned to drink and fell into alcoholism. Finally, despite sympathetic attempts to help, he was made jobless by his employers. For a couple of decades now, Werner has become a regular site in the Mitte district of the city, always seen with a bottle to hand.
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When you have completed the poem, post the direct link in the ‘auto-links’ box below and also make a comment in the comment’s section. Before or following this, take time over the coming week to visit other entries from fellow poets and add a friendly comment or two regarding what you felt about their poem. This last part is vital if we are all to gain value from this exercise.
Next Thursday evening I will create a round-up of my personal favourite pieces but remember, this is not a competition. If you need any help or advice, then either contact me or pose a question in the comments section and I’m sure someone will be available to give you a hand.
Poetry Prompt Round-Up 5
August 14, 2008
‘The Olympics’ was this week’s poetry prompt theme and as Thursday evening has arrived, it is time to look back at the entries from poets worldwide. Sport is a subject people either love or hate which perhaps explains the relatively low turn out for this week’s cue. However, the poems submitted have been of an excellent standard both in structure and meaning. Each link below is well worth a visit.
Rio captures the excitement of the crowds lining the route of the Olympic marathon. The applause and cheers are contrasted with the calm pose of the runner.
French poet Tiniak alludes to the strenuous actions of the Games in an interesting poem that mixes romance with sport which can be found in the comment section here.
In Tiel Aisha Ansari’s poem ‘Winners and Losers‘ the highs and lows of the Olympic Dream are expressed in this creatively structured Villanelle. There is also a criticism of how Politics is never far from the spirit of the Games.
Bev’s short but succinct poem highlights the hard work and pressure put on young gymnasts. Whilst not mentioning China in particular, it is extremely apt for the latest accusations of under-age athletes participating from the host country.
David explores the differences between the free world and China and how this impacts on the lives of the Olympians in this fascinating poem.
Finally Ben Barden writes a humorous Olympic limerick which is printed below.
There once was a swimmer called Mike,
Who tried to do lengths on his bike,
He broke the right pedal,
But got the gold medal,
Next time he’ll be back with a trike.
I would like to thank all poets who submitted their work to this week’s poetry prompt. The comments section will remain open and you can add further links at any stage. Next week’s prompt will begin tomorrow at 6pm London time. If you enjoyed your stay here and will continue to take part each week, then please spread the word about this weekly interactive poetry event. It will benefit not only myself but all of us.
Poetry Prompt 5 - ‘The Olympics’
August 8, 2008
Around 10,000 performers took part in the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games. Over 90,000 fans crammed into the new national stadium, called the Bird’s Nest owing to its steel lattice construction, and cheered on the performers. It began at eight minutes past eight on the evening of 8 August, reflecting the belief widespread in Asia that eight is a lucky number. Funnily enough it is also my own lucky number.
‘The Olympics’ is this week’s poetry prompt theme. I’ll add quickly that if you have no interest in sport or the Olympics being in China, do not worry, you can write about the spirit of the Olympics, or how you avoid the television at all costs when coverage is being shown. Perhaps you have memories of your parents, grandparents or children watching previous Games over the past decades. If you love sport, then write a poem about which events you will be watching and your various heroes of the track, pool or field. Naturally, you can also write a political poetic statement regarding China’s treatment of Tibet in relation to the Olympics. It’s completely up to you.
When you have completed the poem, post the direct link in the ‘auto-links’ box below and also make a comment in the comment’s section. Before or following this, take time over the coming week to visit other entries from fellow poets and add a friendly comment or two regarding what you felt about their poem. This last part is vital if we are all to gain value from this exercise.
Next Thursday evening* I will create a round-up of my personal favourite pieces but remember, this is not a competition. If you need any help or advice, then either contact me or pose a question in the comments section and I’m sure someone will be available to give you a hand.
Poetry Prompt Round-Up 4
August 7, 2008
Thursday evening has arrived closing a day of brief torrents of rain and scalding hot sunshine. Thunderstorms rattle on the horizon above cargo ships seeping through the English Channel. Like the narrator in The Turn of the Screw, I will now review the poetic events of last week’s poetry prompt, which thankfully will not be of a terrifying nature similar to those in Henry James’s famous novel.
Last week’s poetry cue, ‘Writing Desk‘, was a catalyst for some wonderful poems from various poets across the globe. It’s always fascinating to know where a writer works and how their surroundings can inspire them. They are as follows:
Jorc provides the first poem of the week with ‘what dreams’. A thoughtful poem with wonderful forest and waterfall analogies of a writer’s desk.
Tiel Aisha Ansari’s writing desk is a multifaceted affair including a computer desk in the spare bedroom to the balcony of a hotel in Las Vegas.
The third entry is my own poem, ‘My Writing Desk‘. It is a description of what I see from my chair including the habits of my disruptive cat.
Sascha’s poem titled ‘A Black Canvas‘ portrays the rich imagination of a poet running wild with the imagery of palaces, princes and kings that mingle with the reality of every day life.
Rio’s very attractive poem intriguingly compares the writing pad to a romantic partner or wife. The repetition of ’she’ by a male poet, makes it a love affair.
Lissa describes the thoughts and ideas that arise during a train journey in the aptly named poem ‘Train of Thoughts‘. The pauses at stations and public announcements briefly distract before the words rush on once more.
Melissa’s poem portrays an almost maternal love for the writing that’s produced on the much revered paper. Delightfully intimate and a joy to read.
In Keith’s humorous poem, he writes about the perils of a messey desk and the frustration of loosing a poem. Perfect to bring a smile to your face and even a nod of recognition.
Bev has written about the terribly unfair condition known as ‘writer’s block’ in this charming little tanka. How often it occurs that as you are settling down to watch your favourite TV programme or falling asleep, inspiration hits like a speeding train.
Melanie of Beloved Dreamer wrote a cleverly interlaced poem mixing heavy sorrow with light and dainty dreams and hopes.
I would like to thank all poets who submitted their work to this week’s poetry prompt. The comments section will remain open and you can add further links at any stage. Next week’s prompt will begin tomorrow at 6pm London time. If you enjoyed your stay here and will continue to take part each week, then please spread the word about this weekly interactive poetry event. It will benefit not only myself but all of us.
Olivia - A Poem
August 6, 2008
Oh! A splendid sight was she to behold,
on a Summer’s noon; Blazing azure eyes
playful, beneath the canopy of leaves.
Flowers nearby, began to fade away
from my view, as her head tilted high
beckoning rays of sunlight to caress
her silky cheeks. Sweeping blonde hair unfurled
divine; Her resplendent jaw line perched on bold
imagination’s shoulder. Soft, lips, ripe,
magnificent; Thirst, and typhoons of lust,
Simmered hot within my embracing arms.
Then as a candle blown out at night
I stilled my mind; Her beauty etched upon my heart.
© Edward Beaman-Hodgkiss
Model: Olivia of LTY Designs and Tutorials.
My Writing Desk
August 2, 2008
Circular streams, course from one open window
Through to the next, across my writing desk
Where a laptop gently purrs its echo
Of my ceaseless thoughts and dreams statuesque.
The shimmering sea inside harbour walls
Toys with my senses high above the trees,
That stand, looking up in their genteel shawls
To the ridge where I sit with Summer breeze;
A cat extends her paw and gently plays
With sheets of paper on a wooden chair,
Distracting esurient eyes sideways,
Followed by a tender smile, playful glare,
A teasing cry, then kiss, then stroke, then tap,
Typing, focused, poetry, to unwrap.
© Edward Beaman-Hodgkiss
Written in response to the poetry prompt on this website.
Poetry Prompt 4 - ‘Writing Desk’
August 1, 2008
In June of this year Charles Dickens’ writing desk and chair were sold for $850,000 at Christie’s auction house in London. It was the desk on which he wrote Great Expectations at his Gad’s Hill Place home in Higham, Kent.
With this in mind, the 4th Poetry Prompt is ‘Writing Desk’. Describe the area where you write your poetry, whether this is a computer work station, a wooden table or even prostrate upon the floor. What can you see from your desk? What is on your table? Is there an aroma like incense or the sea air? What about sounds, like children playing or a clock ticking? What do you write? Create a poem which brings all these things together and helps to create a vivid image in the reader’s imagination.
When you have completed the poem, post the direct link in the ‘auto-links’ box below and also make a comment in the comment’s section. Before or following this, take time over the coming week to visit other entries from fellow poets and add a friendly comment or two regarding what you felt about their poem. This last part is vital if we are all to gain value from this exercise.
Next Thursday evening* I will create a round-up of my personal favourite pieces but remember, this is not a competition. If you need any help or advice, then either contact me or pose a question in the comments section and I’m sure someone will be available to give you a hand.
Enjoy!
*I would like to briefly apologise for not completing a weekly round-up yesterday. Due to all-day computer problems I had, followed by a local power cut, my time was drastically shortened. Next week’s round-up will continue as normal.
Kent Earthquake of April 2007
August 1, 2008
Pleasant quiescence, filled my dreams
As sunlight seeped through the window,
Placing warm shafts of chiffon streams
Upon rested forehead aglow.
Awareness, vague; consciousness slurred.
Contentedness, a slow pavane
Rolling as waves gently demurred
To the onset of daylight’s scan.
Awoken! Fear! an implosion
Of senses wretched with panic;
Walls shook from the explosion
Near! Loud! Possibly volcanic!
Then calm, a tease to the jarred soul,
Mocking tensed muscles perplexed;
Car alarms cried out distressed, the toll
Rang strong of screeching seagulls vexed.
Frozen, currents of confusion
Rippled down the length of my spine,
Reality or illusion
Both sealed facets yet to define.
The neighbours’ doors opened, wide eyes
Scrutinizing the street unchanged,
Finding comforting smiles arise
Through nervous pleased greetings exchanged.
Tortured sea its secret revealed
Looks silently towards the coast;
Centuries old memories yield
To the Earth’s perpetual boast.
© Edward Beaman-Hodgkiss
(Written shortly after experiencing the earthquake)
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