I’m no academic poet.
Talk to me about about syllables, haikus – to be honest, I can only hear the blood rushing to my head.
I started doing stream of consciousnesss posts in 2016. I’ve received positive feedback on here, and now I want to step up my game.
Just for fun, the social aspect and it’s a different way to express myself.
So, I did what I do best.
I went to the poetry workshop, everyone seemed to know what they were doing except me!
I went with my heart, my emotions and willingness to try out new approaches, in tackling poetry for live performance.
It was a cool workshop – delivered by a well established,British poet – Matt Abott –
check out his bio HERE
A collaboration with DREAM TIME COLLECTIVE.
We went through a series of activities with the idea to have some form of a draft by the end of the 2 hour workshop
The theme was political poetry.
Each participant chose a theme that they felt passionately about. I chose ‘Animal rights/cruelty. ‘
I got so much out of a two hour workshop that I’m going to share what I did.
Once we had chosen our theme/subject
we had to ask ourselves three questions
Who does it affect?
How does it affect me?
Why is it important to me or to the world?
A Couple of notes I made:
It affects animals, people, ocean, planet
I’m a lover of animals, I don’t believe that we need to eat meat, or wear clothes or makeup made up of animal derivatives. Because of my knowledge of what animals go through to become a consumer product. I feel it is unethical.
I have my own view of animals. I admire how they are able to evolve and adapt, in a way, that doesn’t have a negative impact on the planet .This shows me that humans could learn something from nature, instead of destroying our home.
2. What Matt stressed is: that if we want our poetry to make an impact writing it to perform , we need a motive, a call of action, an agenda.
Who am I delivering this message to?
What do I want to achieve?
Examples: Do I want to shock people, encourage people to look at solutions to the problem etc..
Imagine a room( keeping in mind what your subject is) and put 5 points/Images using ‘show and tell’ language to come with up with strong words.
tearing of flesh
frothing at the mouth
Place the victim/s in that room.
What are they doing ?
How do they feel?
I had two victims. I imagined a gorilla coming round from another bout of being sedated by electrocution. He was wearing garish make up – heavily made up blue eyes and bold, blood colour red lipstick.
My other victim was human – a female who happened to be dressed up in chicken outfit or as a bird. She had a morbid fascination finding herself in this surreal room with this clearly broken ,macabre gorilla.
Next we had place ourselves in that room -observing what was going on
Horror, what do I do? , retaliate or fight or freeze. I was frozen on the spot. Upon reflection, this is how most of society reacts to topics that make them uncomfortable. They become apathetic.
Next, we had to place the victim outside of that situation/ROOM . Different surroundings. Aware of what they have witnessed/ or know and how they react in a different setting.
I chose the female ,costume wearing bird human and put her in a cosmetic store. The emotions that came to me were conflicting – this victim of societies idea of attaining beauty is thinking ‘ ‘I have a choice’
The next stage was to put these ideas into the poetic form.
Make a poem.
Always keeping in mind what we want the audience or how we want the audience to react.
We were directed to to start to put together a poem of no more than 50 words, or certain amount syllables. The aim was to keep it short.
Keep it punchy.
I wrote about 100 words – possibly more.
Then we had to cut those words in half – 😦
I ended up with 46 words.
This is the end product .
Gaze in the mirror.
Blue sparkled hues
Do I look pretty enough for you?
Tearing of flesh.
Bleached in acid
Reflection never part
Do I look pretty enough for you?
The true freak in this show is
, indeed YOU.
Daisy Willows/ Natasha Bodley
Times up. Workshop over. Get back to real life 😀
Now, I have another to approach to poetry when I write.
Have a great weekend!
Composure show your best face
Daisy don’t make it hazy – leave out the ‘just in case’ can of mace.
Three announced pregnancies delivered in one week
One Stork wraps a cord around emotions -trachea.
Manipulation in search for a vein
hooked up intravenously
suffering from a bout of the sickness days gone by,
Day spent prodding a familiar corpse
Lavender eye shadow caked on.
An ex-hookers heinous crime of remorse.
Blend in shades of elegance, class cuts above diamonds
-less valuable than the African Congo.
Kleenex tissues – repentance from deeds of liberation.
There is closure in this hymn
that is how sacrilegious people turn as quick as the wind doth blow.
No more drama.
Welcome to the real world -energy in motion kinetic.
Some call it Karma.
Squeaky clean – naked child of the nugget -Midas the king.
Bronchial Bengal licking furballs off her skin.
spots and stripes.
Don’t leave me, Madam.
wailers of bandits ready for the first of half a dozen fights.
Interrupt the flow 2 kg of feather dynamite
How does this writer get away with posting anything credible?
Animals on the uprise.
No more, humans.
Determined by free will.
Save our earth from true predators.
A life is a life,
a loss is a loss.
no one gives a toss
don’t matter who involved in the kill.
Overspill of copper coil excreting from a vulvic cave
Pompei disaster – a necessary tragedy to inspire the seventh wave.
counting on all hands and fingers
I fear I’m not the only one.
canned laughter emerges in the background.
Trashed children abscond to the house occupied by Delirium’s son.
Emotion packs a punch in three
washing machine forgets it’s own no spillage codified key.
Rage -crimson flag.
‘All hail the Spanish bull!’
Gunshots fired -the loss of the human cull.
Grief lapses in streams of nonsequential dreams.
it’s obvious what unravels when we are pulled at the seams.
Damp music sheets obscure the cup of the holy grail.
Green lights flash.
Don’t hesitate -before long you won’t be able to walk
it’s a condition in frail.
life and Death lie, spooning- side by side,
build the bridge
equality in each parlour
you seek to ride.
murder the last heart blackened by holding on.
The injustice of the furies coup
bow your heads in shame,
You are not the only ones who suffer.
Time to sing a different song.
I wanna be loved
I wanna be loved
Aw, Here’s a virtual fish wife hug.
Oi, sweetheart – didn’t you hear me? I said I wanna be loved.
Catcall.Ice-bucket – overspills neo – classicism sentiment.
Laced up bosom heart flecked with pieces of steel.
I wanna be loved.
I wanna be loved.
Oi, did you hear me, babe? I have a heart filled with soapy suds.
Empath – duty-bound to sympathize with alpha bloodhound seeking to incarcerate her with a gun filled with duds.
I wanna be loved.
I wanna be loved.
I’m a sweetheart – you’re a sweetheart – let’s roll one, then turn up the funk.
Toy story – meme becomes a true story told in oral.
prelude to come.
You wanna be loved?
You wanna be loved?
You say all this yet your eyes create walls caging doves from their song.
If you wanna be loved – stop asking random others who stray close to the sun.
Couch potato manners – will find love in a familiar hand -left or right. Don’t forget to inhale that idle bong.
Sex or weed?
Weed and sex.
She wasn’t complaining. She screamed so loud for me to stop.
time out, tiger!
Interpret this as you may.
Did he ask if he accidently overfilled her ear orifice with over bloated seaside swimmers?
or accidently bottled her into a state of frozen lager?
You wanna be loved.
Then taketh not all for thyself, young decrepit blood.
Giveth – free flow, no sweeping statement dogs escaped Noah’s ark or God’s flood.
Move beyond your fantasy.
phantasmagoria is not free in She-ra’s sword sex symbolic cooperation.
Try to retain warmth in a sizable fee.
Hot Hooter eyed water bottle – cost effective.
Not enough to help him resurrect an Absolute spirited goddess.
Rewind and recycle,
dog-eared Tai menu gender – Bangkok pussy.
Remote scratch and sniff, no taste only his eyes can see.
I wanna be loved.
Can she be Frank?
Her passion doesn’t lie in fulfilling his lonely nights.
Netflix catch- up and book endeavors find her closer to her G spot than Boy George midgets dressed up in red tights.
Mrs did you hear me I wanna be loved? You’ve got the love I need.
clearly seen fro her 1 D profile, one thumb- all upstream.
Mr of questionable status, do you listen? Hear what is going to go down.
Spit, gargle, brush – repeat.
Learn some manners, leave this bee, nectar bonus points ran out when you demanded she slathers you in full moon clots of cream.
*Inspired by humans and observations* 😀
I’m a Jedi at laying my heart and mind and soul for all to see in the written or oral form.
This post, I’ve been putting off.
Wondering what I’m doing with my life?
My life looks amazing in black and white and pink.
It is amazing!
Until, I focus on perfecting something to the point where I know that I will never see perfection. It is something I am yet to put a limit on.
I push the goal post of perfection every time I think I’m nearly there.
I stepped back from blogging, volunteering and doing work in my community to essentially focus on this Masters.
Not a bad thing.
Since I started out on this particular path, I’ve become over consumed with it. Nothing else exists in my mind but this.
An unhealthy obsession?
Here’s me laying myself bare. No cameras – ha ha! you will be put off for life.
I didn’t think I would be accepted or get help to get on this Masters degree. I went for my goal like a rabid dog.
I got what I wanted. A death wish.
I’m stubborn enough to know how to get what I want. Or,at least what I think I want.
Reassessing the situation in the place I am in now, I’ve realized my reasons for doing this degree is not to write novels or random stage plays or just any genre of fiction.
My main goal has always been to use it as a ‘feather in my cap’,and an added bonus to use it in my C.V. so, that I can continue to work in my community with the people and issues that I am passionate about.
Vulnerable members of our community.
I want to do this in a creative way.
Not a let’s go to the doctor and get a script and go to CBT and get in the system.
I started this blog around the time I was doing a 12-week programme called WRAP. (September 2015)
I wouldn’t shut up about.
I still don’t.
Then, this summer I was given the opportunity to do an intensive 5-day training course to be a Wrap facilitator.
I worked my ass off. It was rough but I did it. I thought I was losing my mind.
I write about themes such as homelessness mental health issues, inequality, politics.
I did get a decent mark on my TMA 1 – but most of the comments ( in my humble opinion) are patronizing, insulting, subjective and contradictory – to not only my own experience, knowledge, and research of stagecraft and the subject I choose to write about.
It was insulting to the people I work with and where I want to establish myself in the future.
So, on principle, I am still going for a remark.
In order to get a Switzerland reassessment, I have to appeal for a remark to get another assessment.
I’ve stuck up for myself when I felt like hiding away from the life.
I’ve had my viewpoint heard.
I’m still doing my MA.
I’m already on to the next TMA and I have hit all my deadlines so far. I’m still in the same writer’s forum group I started out in.
I don’t mind feeling uncomfortable. I’ve lived with myself for 35 years.
Others might have a problem. I don’t! Not my issue.
I am open to learning from my tutor who I am entitled to disagree with and within my rights to question. I might not get an answer 😀
I don’t know this person well enough to make a remark on their character or who they are.
I can only go by the feedback, my work and my ‘come back’ to answers and things I don’t agree with or that I’ve already referenced to back up the decisions I made.
Back to re-evaluating where I want to be and where I want to focus my energies.
I’m not going to stop writing or talking about my passions (in a way) that show a true representation of the subject and the people who inspire me to write.
Fuck writing to tick boxes and conform to one person’s idea.
I’m enjoying learning.
There’s a wealth of resources and information that I am picking up with the academic side of writing, reading others work, reading other writers feedback -this includes the one/people who mark my work.
I’m open minded.
I believe I can learn something from anyone, anything- doesn’t have to be human.
My daughter teaches me several things on daily basis. She is 5 years old.
I’ve decided to go with my heart and my passion and get involved in a project that allows me to get creative with others and use WRAP’s key core concepts and ethics.
I get to be unconventional. A responsible rebel! EPIC!
I get to be a part of something that could help others before their issues become diagnosed illnesses in the current model of treatment we rely on to live our lives in as well as a physical and mental state as possible.
My MA is a bonus, in my opinion.
WOW! I get to be creative in my work life, social life and I get to have fun blogging and learning from so many different people.
Someone is getting paid to read my work and mark it!
True, I am paying them ( MA’s are not cheap)
I asked to do this degree – knowing full well I put myself up for the role of guinea pig.
Of course, there is going to be teething problems. It’s a learning curve for everyone involved. Students, tutors, the people who fund it.
I’m in it.
I’m committed to doing this first year, on the condition, that I will make it less of a priority to where I have placed it since I started it in October 2016.
My people – my circle – my family are my priority. Yo dawg, gone all ghetto! 😀
My interests, my passion, what I do on a day to day basis to fulfill myself and bring in some cash is my priority.
Blogging is a priority – I might go under the radar for a bit and miss out on reading some of your posts.
I’m not going anywhere.
I don’t do New years resolutions.
I prefer to spread my goals out over a longer period than one month.
It does work for me. Less pressure.
Since I’ve realised my priorities , I’m enjoying life again.
Writing, studying, reading.
I’m so excited and honored to be a part of something I feel so much passion for in my community.
We are all stars.
I felt as if I was dying – burning out!
I found out I’m not.
I just needed to scout around to find a place in the sky that allows me to shine a little more brightly.
EVERYONE SING 😉
‘Twinkle twinkle little star…’
Of course, it’s awesome to receive praise.
I use it as a self-motivation tool to achieve my goals.
We are all different. We all want different things.
I am no different.
Seems obvious. ha ha!
I’m doing what I feel is right for me and my health and the people I surround myself with. They have to live with me.
Nothing complicated – just plain writing with no fancy flowers around it.
I’m the best decoration I have -I make no apologies for figuring my shit out.
Black sheared sheep – interrupts my sleep flow.
Jumping forwards then backward.
He’s part of the clandestine cult thought- process flow.
All beginnings eventually have to come to an ending.
Concerning future alliances- the fork in the path mutates an extra prong.
Allow for the change in shape of an another alternative route.
Cheat decides to look up in dictionary.com what it means to say moot.
Meaning already forgot.
Decision debased on ill-behaved behavior electrifying a footwork track -based on a biracial intercourse toot.
Turn moot into witch doctor Muti, a cure for this malaise oddity may break contact with the shepherd’s compulsive ewe.
Silenced into the next move in the game of life.
What is the most Infallible- can do?
Make a fresh start- sell out one pearlised vocation. Many breed the high ground in a scorching sorting hat.
Priorities muddled in an attempt to make a life more longstanding than a welcome mat.
Mathematicians turn up in a state of multiple divided equations.
New lease of life -E=mc^ 2 – it’s all relative – beautification renders an approving look – misread face leads to unresolved complications.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
3 am -Hare wakes up to see tortoise break past the time barrier, marathon race. March mad, too young to let his ego sit back -ears push forward in sly.
Morals without a compass, external hard drive.
time dials erratic – so distant.
Testify to honor all vocations – duty bound to follow the one leading to the most effective change – energy is insistent.
What matters is not to what degree – all frying pans are a sizzle. Take a calculated risk on Heart.
wrenched backward -trust it will not deceive.
Patriotic to the cause of writing until last breath ceases – suspended in mid-air -acrobatic chaos,
spectator led into disbelief.
Matter not those who don’t walk the same path.
Respect this life entrant is making a decision on behalf of the majority, swathed- ready to abort the plan.
Whim-sake not the confidence of this indecisive.
Aim to do better -empath.
Besmirch the elders – radicalize the institutional bonds that bind.
The weight of titanium – Poseidon never lets a nymph stray too far from the seismic mind.
An explosive ending to start off the new year.
Just over 365 days to go.
change this automatic for a manual stick gear.