January Month of Poetry – Wk 4

January Month of Poetry – Wk 4


In the middle of a Month of Poetry, this was my week of poetry. For two days I took poetry workshops with school kids, in preparation for our community Australia Day celebrations, where I was asked to organise a poetry competition to take place on the day – just for fun.

Alas, I had to make an abrupt exit from the celebrations when our road flooded, so I’ve very glad the competition ran smoothly. I’m just disappointed I wasn’t there to enjoy it!

<pre>

Australia Day 2012

The day was blissfully
noticably
silent –
an echo of
earlier years before the
road became a thoroughfare
and trees buzzed with
traffic.

In the afternoon
we went to check
the flood waters;
A 200m section of road
still submerged;
still water.

The 4x4s and the foolhardy were starting
to cross.
We watched a Landcruiser
wade in, closely followed by
a small red car.

The  ‘Cruiser burbled towards us
pushing a wall of water in front.

Slowly and surely the two vehicles
rose out of the water,
attached by a snatch strap.

On dry road, the ‘Cruiser stopped.

Bump. BANG. Crash. Clang.

The little red car stopped.

Stillness.

Silence.

Doors opened.

Did you just drive into the back of me? You idiot!

Two Aussie blokes,
boys really,
met in the middle
with Tooheys in hand
and inspected the union
of 4×4 and
little red car;
wedged as one,
towball to grill,
snatch strap
redundant.

It was hilarious!

Apparently.

<pre>

And yesterday…

baffled
by waves on inland
waterways;
boat crests wake
behind
4×4

.

Word of advice:  Don’t cross flooded roads.

In both these instances, not only did drivers place themselves at risk by driving through road closures, but just 5km down the road they encountered deeper wider floods. Mate, if the locals are telling you to turn around and go back… GO BACK!

.

 

January Month of Poetry: Part Three

January Month of Poetry: Part Three

Week Three of Month of Poetry was dominated by my son’s Tympanoplasty surgery. With pen and notebook, we entered the hospital… <pre>

Tympanoplasty

Wake-up 5am…
Departure 6am…

Day Surgery Admissions 7:30am:
Not thinking
watching TV
tennis
news
will
write
a
poem
soon

Nurse:  Which ear are we operating on?
Left.

Toilet 8am:
Where do I tie these strings?
Do I put these over my shoes?
Stockings!
We didn’t have a long wait…

Cubicle 8:30am:
could sleep
feel sick
so hungry
my shoe things keep falling off
wish I could see
could watch –
I hope he videos it!
those shoe things fell off again.

Orderly:  Which ear are we operating on?
Left

ummmm…
I don’t know what I was going to say
really getting hungry now
half an hour longer and I’ll feel it

still waiting…
I’ve been waiting here for ages.
I hope they don’t forget

Orderly:  We’ve got one up here, don’t forget.

Oh good. They didn’t forget.

I really hope he videos it.
I want to see.

It’d be really funny if I waited
so long and eventually
I went to find the doctor and they
come back in and
the bed’s empty.
Argh!

We’ve been waiting here for ages.
Can you please open the curtain –
just slightly. I want them
to see me.
Don’t want them to forget me.
Is anyone coming?
Oh man!
Everyone who came in after me
has already gone.
Hope they haven’t forgotten me
Are you sure they haven’t forgotten me?
I think it’s me! … I hope.

Cubicle (still) 9:30am:
Ask them if they’ve forgotten me.
Orderly: We’d never forget you.
Doctor just reshuffled his list.
It shouldn’t be long now…

Outside theatre 10:00am:
It’s fun when they push you –
just lie back.

Price is probably going up
just sitting here.

Theatre Noises:  Cough. Splutter. Gag. Gasp.
*eyes boggle*  Nasty! Glad you’re knocked out.
Splutter. Gag. Gasp. Retch.
*shudders*

Still haven’t put my heart monitors on.
Spend the whole time waiting for them.

Anaesthetist:  Now, which side are we operating on?
Left

I’m rolling over so they don’t have to flip me.
so they know
which side.

LEFT!

Mum:  Do you want me to write on
the other ear? {Not this ear} Yes?
No. They’ll probably see writing
and think that’s the one to do!
Mum:  Maybe, {STOP! Not this ear.} Yes?
*Grins* No.

Doctor: Now, which ear am I operating on?
Left
I’ll get my pen and mark which ear.
<-HB

*relaxes*

In theatre 10:15am
Doctor:  What are you doing still awake.
Mum:  I say that every night!
Doctor:  Did you see my new Zeiss lens?
Anaesthetist:  Just a little prick now.

*judders violently*
*blinks*
*slow blinks*
*sleeps* …

Anaesthetist: Okay Mum. You can leave now.

</pre>

Later that night, my son wrote;

blood whooshes
as I hear the pulse
of healing

My Epigram:

An ear for music humours the heart
but hear me and heed me – don’t laugh at art!

.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the story – my son artistically ruptured his left ear drum in a random accident with a paintbrush, during art class last year. The hole 1/3 the size of his eardrum didn’t repair itself, so a skin graft was necessary – along with an inspection of the tiny hearing bones. We are hopeful that the skin graft will repair the eardrum and restore full hearing… Thankfully the bones checked out okay!

January Month of Poetry: Part Two

January Month of Poetry: Part Two

This year my goal for Month of Poetry (MoP12) was to write a sonnet. In truth, I wanted to play and ‘perfect’ the form. Not that I particularly *loved* the form – but because in other MoPs participants who have written a sonnet speak as if they’ve climbed Mount Everest. A challenge? I’m in!

I asked my friend Di Esmond for some pointers. Which she gladly gave in her own inimitable style. You can read Di’s simple sonnet tips on the Month of Poetry blog.

I wasted a day on my first attempt. Tried three different sonnets, on suitably learned topics. Failed. Crushing defeat. Rising frustration. Those five strong beats were a syncopated constipated curse! I quit.

At which point, my anger and frustration bubbled over… (Oops…) and resulted in Sonnet: Finito.

Sonnet: Finito

Sonnet! Away you evil, vile thing!
Your syncopated rhythm drives me NUTS
so go! No ifs or maybes and no buts…
Be gone! No satisfaction do you bring.

If venerable poets like the Bard
could scribble sonnets neither weak or pallid
then why – when I can write a rhyming ballad –
do I write a sonnet marred and deeply scarred.

Rue the wretched resolution made
before I even knew what I resolved.
Quit. And I am instantly absolved…
Persist and you must all try to dissuade.

But wait! The end is nigh. This sonnet writ;
a travesty of poetry and wit.

Funny. My laments inspired Karen Collum to write the fiercely passionate sonnet  A Mother’s Love.

My sonnet headache had only just subsided (two days later) when Megan Bickel wrote a stunner sonnet. To me, it ticked all the boxes – beautifully. Scroll down to the comments on Di’s Simple Sonnet post and you can read it for yourself. Then Penni Russon wrote an exquisite Kinglake Sonnet – not in the iambic pentameter rhythm, and I must confess that I find this four-strong-beats style much easier to read and write (!!!) since my lines naturally fell on four or six strong iambs. Then Catherine Johnson used the sonnet format to tell of excitement in her street…

At which point I decided to try again and write a sonnet that wasn’t a lament about a sonnet! In fact, I wanted it to wrangle an emotive issue dear to my heart. And I wanted to conquer that iambic pentameter. Once I got through the obligatory three failed attempts, (to write a sonnet, you must first fail three times and quit – and then…) Sonnet: Money Hungry flowed quite easily – in its syncopated, shuffle-footed style. The last two lines took more work – but I think they stand strong, now.

Sonnet: Money Hungry

Conviction cuts me to the core again –
that we should have so much – and much to waste
while round the globe the millions know not when
they’ll stay starvation with the blandest taste.

The table of the world is bountiful;
no need for any one to go without,
yet bloated bellies feel the wretched pull
of hunger pangs in countries cursed by drought.

Clean water in abundance, we abuse,
to run a river gushing down our drains,
while others labour, precious drops to lose,
never knowing cleansing flush of quenching rains.

It doesn’t take a millionare to care;
in truth, we all have much – and much to share.

I still can’t say I love the form. In fact, I’m even more convinced that I don’t speak or write in pentameters – even IF the many webpages I consulted inferred it was a natural pattern of speech. But I do feel that I have, at last, written a sonnet. And since it was such a struggle to do it, I feel quite… motherly-proud of the finished product. Besides – it ponders a message that is close to my heart.

It doesn’t take a millionaire to care. There are many ways that we can all positively impact on those who suffer much and have so little. Even children can have the joy of making a difference.

These are some organisations that I have loved – but there are many, many more.

World Vision:  Through World Vision we sponsored Dagouma until he was withdrawn from the program.

Compassion:  Through Compassion we sponsor Iragena. It is a joy to know that her life is enriched because of us.

Operation Christmas Child: Children love filling shoeboxes with gifts for children in need around the globe. Fantastic opportunity for schools and parents to foster kindness and empathy, while empowering young children, who love to give!

TEAR Australia:  Giving gifts that give again. You buy a gift to go to a struggling family in the name of your friend or family member. I then also like to give a related gift to the family member – like a chicken ornament or stuffed toy if I’m choosing the ‘give two chickens’ option. Or pen/notebook if giving school supplies. This makes it tangible for your family member, and the family in need.

Turn on the Tap: For safe, accessible water in the developing world.

It doesn’t take a millionare to care;
in truth, we all have much – and much to share.

January Month of Poetry – Part One

January Month of Poetry – Part One

Once again, my year has started with a Month of Poetry – writing one poem every day for the month of January. This is an annual event I’ve co-ordinated since 2008.

After my quiet months of no writing in 2011, I’m finding a deeper level of creativity during the #MoP. I’m writing in new ways, and liking it.

#MoP12 poems are posted to locked pages on the Month of Poetry blog, and there is a great community of sharing and discussion each day, which I find inspirational and informative. (Love it!) Remembering past #MoP friends – and the promise of more this month – inspired this poem on Day One;

I Remember You

I remember you;
the way you
weave words on paper,
play emotions
with phrases and pausing,
your voice echoing
through line breaks,
imagery and stark
haunting words.

I remember you;
breathing life
and form into poetry
so that when I read
no credit is needed –
the words whisper
your name
and take the shape
of you.

This is how it is with #MoP. Learning to recognise participants by their individual way with words. Six days in and it’s already exceeded expectations.

Ebb and Flow of 2011

Ebb and Flow of 2011

I blogged about my Ebb and Flow writing process in 2009.

In 2011 I experienced the ebb and flow of writing in a different way, with extended family health dramas taking all head and heart space for 6months. When I first heard the word ‘cancer’ I resolved to let my writing go, for unlimited time, to invest in family and fighting this dread disease. There would be no stress on my part if there was no time for writing or submitting. In fact, any writing would be a bonus.

Read the rest of this entry

An Aussie Christmas Carol

An Aussie Christmas Carol

Some big family medical issues have meant I haven’t focused on my writing much these last 6 months. But sometimes the most mundane tasks free your mind to a little creativity. Driving a familiar road last week did that for me. And for once, I wasn’t rueing the roadworks that require constant stopping. Because that was opportunity to scribble this Aussie Christmas carol.  Read the rest of this entry

School Visit at St John’s, Bundaberg

School Visit at St John’s, Bundaberg

Author visits to schools are great fun! At a recent visit to St Johns in Bundaberg we;

  • Dramatised ‘This is the Mud!’ (Prep/Yr1)
  • Wrote shape poems (Yr2/3)
  • Wrote haiku (Yr4/5)
  • And performed poetry (Yr6/7)
.

Dramatising 'This is the Mud!'

Read the rest of this entry

How to Show Desktop with Mac Lion

How to Show Desktop with Mac Lion

Being a new Mac user, there are one or two (or a hundred thousand) Mac things that have caused me a just a little frustration. One of the biggest annoyances is the fact that there is NO Show Desktop option on Mac Lion. It drives me crazy!!

Today I made an accidental discovery as my fingers dawdled across the track pad…

It is possible to get the MacBook Pro’s OS X Lion equivalent to Show Desktop.  Read the rest of this entry

Mud in Pre-Prep

Mud in Pre-Prep

I loved hearing about the fun that the Pre-prep student at Bundaberg Christian College had after reading ‘This is the Mud!’ recently. Thanks for sharing!

We put paint onto foam letters and matched them to the letters on our sheets and then had another look at ‘This is the Mud’ book, at the mess the diggers and tractors made in the mud. We drove some small tractors and diggers into our ‘mud’ and then drove all over our paper with it.

This is the mess that they made in the MUD!

We all had a great time and learnt something about rhyming words and really enjoyed the book.

Joanne Henderson, Prep Teacher