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!
‘Always look up wherever you go – those who walk with there eyes to the floor miss out on so much of life’
DAISY GOES INTO BUSINESS:
What a palaver!
I spent weeks working on trying to figure out a way to sell my products on a free WordPress template.
A lovely friend of mine suggested – Wix and e -commerce.
I was in entrepreneur, creative business utopia until I had to learn the system …
It’s been challenging. It is still a challenge but I am seeing progress and, I am getting so excited for when we finally go live.
DAISY DOES HER MASTERS:
If you have followed my previous posts on from the start of doing my MA, you will know it has been an ocean of tidal waves and tsunamis and, high tides and low tides.
These still waters of mine run deep.
My First TMA (tutor marked assignment) Act one of a stage script about a homeless couple received a CLEAR PASS of 62%
There were tears, miscommunication, fall outs, despair and I lost confidence in my writing abilities.
TMA 2 ( my second genre -Fiction writing) I wrote a supernatural piece about a girl who (accidently) commits suicide.
Lat night, my tutor emailed me to say she was having an issue submitting my marks via the online system and she didn’t want me to start worrying, so, she copy and pasted all the feedback and my mark into an email.
She gave me useful and extensive advice on what I propose to write for my EMA ( end of module assignment due in May 2017)
The second act to the homeless couple script.
I do feel more supported, understood, challenged and more confident in achieving what I want to do with my writing for this piece.
Oh, the results for my TMA 2
82% a HIGH MERIT.
I’m back to the marks I was getting when I was doing my final year of my BA in the Art and humanities.
I need to keep this momentum going. I don’t want to find myself under merit territory again.
I invest a lot of time in people and the things and causes I dedicate my time to.
DAISY DOES VOLUNTEERING:
One thing I have had to put on the back burner is helping to co-facilitate 12 weeks of WRAP (wellness recovery action plan self-management program) with the EIP ( early intervention prevention ) team for people diagnosed with at least one episode a psychotic episode
I’m gutted. There were many issues that led me to distance myself from this.
Issues of funding and logistics.
I enjoyed meeting up the people I was going to work with. I loved their energy and enthusiasm.
A lot was promised and then not delivered.
I felt the need to email my colleagues and tell them what I thought about how the course was put together- I was my usual blunt self and not very diplomatic. Ooops…
I feel that if the NHS ( national health system) in the U.K. expects results from a new therapy or a new way of self-help/lifestyle and illness management program, then scrimping on pounds is not helping promote or inspire that WRAP works.
In the long term WRAP (run properly) will most likely save the NHS money.
As far as I’m aware- nobody knows what is going on with this current WRAP workshop. I haven’t fallen out with anyone. I can’t give all my energy into something if everyone doesn’t have the same vision.
For me, it needs more planning and preparation and I’m not going to be that person who just turns up to volunteer at a workshop to go –
‘Oh look at me, I’m making a difference’ – when I know, in my heart, the results this particular workshop can have on people’s lives if it is implemented properly.
I’m currently putting my energy into other charities I work with to see how I can help them.
DAISY GOES TO HER FIRST SESSION AT THE ACTING PROGRAMME WORKSHOP :
I wasn’t nervous until I got to the place. I arrived early. It was bitterly cold and I hate the cold.
It turned out to be incredible.
We did a few Actor warm up activities such as being aware of filling the space and being aware of other Actors around us.
We did some improvisation and using our body exercises to convey emotion. Loads of fun!
What a lovely bunch of people. I am definitely going to the next session next week. We all seem to have common goals and everyone is so unique and interesting.
UNEXPECTED SURPRISE ALERT:
There is a possibility we may (or may not) put together a little something to perform to students at the university after the 8 weeks. How awesome is that?
I do try and keep up with you all on here. It has been difficult but the more knowledge and confidence I gain in the above areas of my life – the more time I will get to have fun- one being reading blogs and blogging random stuff
DAISY LIFE UPDATE:
It was my husbands birthday on Valentine’s day. We have a sleigh bed!
hi ho! hi ho! it’s off to bed I go – ha ha! It’s massive – king size!
After the mid-term school holidays in February, my Bella – my daughter will be joining Year one ( she is in reception at the moment) for her reading and writing class.
She has two mates with her who are excelling just like her and she is a bit of a whizz kid at Maths.
DAISY’S MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE:
Long story short. Pushing other people’s buttons to get an honest answer has been difficult -emotionally- to sit with – without trying to avoid the emotions by self-medicating.
I’ve been angry at myself for nearly destroying the best thing I have in my life- my family – because, I believed ( with help) that someone cared more about me than they actually did.I put a lot of my energy into helping a person when they had a meltdown last year. It all got thrown back in my face.
I finally know the truth. That is all I ever wanted. Now, it’s time to let sleeping dogs lie.
That’s it – all very boring but it’s all happening
Physically. I’m eating better and I have more energy. I haven’t lost weight which is something that terrifies me equally as putting on weight does.
Inspired by lyrics – it’s not exactly physics.
Big boy –
little boy – atomic bomb decoy don’t come across as coy.
Paranoia looming over -like a shadow with no owner.
Scented thoughts hanging outside on the line of laundry – drying out, pegged up,
sketchy – out of the ordinary.
The demise of senseless beatings – the savage frolic in secret meetings.
Can’t keep my eyes open – Mind is wired to sense alert token.
Add a word to the vocabulary list. Reading made up stories can’t get the gist.
Thinking of all the times I’ve reinvented my speech
just so folk wouldn’t turn away
mistake me for a blast of mist.
Solar plexus, libra – balances my ails,
if vaccines worked would I even need this skeleton tail?
I’m proficient in scripted fulminate – A non- believer has to have a reason to detonate.
Terrorized by bones on hinges, pelvic oddities, a face grappling on the fringes.
Uncertainly – you can do it! Mascot duty – you blew it.
Evey day the output becomes more – input audios in a fervescent roar.
Fading into a numb place slowed down by brain freeze swimming in a shoal – no empty dregs to fill my soul.
Restricted by my own limitation – Hear me when I say I’m not doing this for inspiration.
What to do in a world knocked into askew?
Nondescript, blinkered – all-seeing eyes – know when to usher in the seasonal yule.
nonsense, no sense, prop me up – inhale oxygen and don’t give up.
Against my better judgment – I’m imploding from the inside.
I had it all figured out until I became a seeker in need of washed out make -overs from dead flotsam at low tide.
*Inspired by internal conflict and the world.* 😀
Just jotting my thoughts. I’ve been prompted to make a complaint.
little four eyes when you were half your current size -why did you doubt yourself so?
Looking back to a densely plotted past – hazy.
What would you have done knowing all people doubt themselves even if it means you becoming the foe?
‘Have no regrets’ – the tagline of the present.
no regrets, no regrets, no regrets.
When you are looking at granny in a catatonic state, unable to walk or talk. Fragments of images of people now gone, tell me you won’t wonder how life would have played out by taking assertive bets.
Complaints department – sizeable queue. What can we do to answer people’s feuds?
Create a passage for people to commit to taking responsibility for themselves, sign that in ink and wrangle with their own moods.
well…… the list unfolds until it reaches the flaws of flooring.
Finger pointing in every direction. Buckle up, prepare to look within and see how far you can go when you begin to see only you can change your state of deploring.
Control comes not from puppeteering others. Cut loose – let the strings fall.Let people walk,
hell! let them figure it out- leave them to crawl.
Worry about how you are going to make it. What you need to do to advance in the dance – motions to elevate and bypass the savage instinct to maul.
How many complaints is your God of choice dealing with?
in Her brassic attempt to fulfill everyone’s wish
Did it ever occur to you to get off your indignant knees to check out the employment vacancies for extras needed to help your God succeed in appetizing your particular dish?
Stop giving control to others to fix your problems. You have a brain, how much has been wasted?
Think of the energy and time used in a futile attempt to get people to see your view,
the moment before the curtains go down you have become the finale unstitched, obtusely basted.
What do you do to make this world a better place?
What do you do to help us people stay in the race with human grace?
Life is never going to get easy – you’re never going to be 100% fulfilled. There will always be a doughnut sized whole to fill.
Do you even know what it is you need to fix yourself? In monetary terms, you will have to pay for your own self- advocacy bill.
Money, time and energy well spent making you a person who can figure out how to make sense.
Dig deep and take a deep breath- Don’t be afraid to be a master of your own success.
To run away from your potential achievement will be your greatest offense.
THANK YOU TO SHAN JENIAH and LINDA FOR KEEPING ME IN A WRITING HABIT. WORD PROMPT: COMPLAINT CLICK HERE TO TRY IT OUT.
It’s easy to get caught up in the negative jumble yard sale and pick up everyone’s discarded trinkets or junk. Gladly, I’ve handed over my money – my energy and the energy of the remnants of the previous owner’s objects stain my fingertips.
The swirly parts on my fingertips- the ones that make me one of a kind – mutate into something I am not.
” call the Priest -exorcise this impurity.”
How do we pick up other peoples junk that looks pretty and appealing, without losing our confidence, and faith in who we are and who we have become?
It sounds so clinical to state:
get a pair of synthetic gloves on and retain your true essence- don’t allow the memories and beliefs of others,to poison your very own mind.
But, isn’t that artificial ?
I pride myself in baring my soul. Telling it like I see it. Standing up for my beliefs.
I get shot down many times- Cry for a bit – tell the world:
“I give up! ”
Then the boomer rang effect inevitably comes back around – smashes me in the head with the haunting words “I give up!”
I hear this echo .
” Oh no, you don’t.”
I start counseling this echo – It’s distant from me, not me.
I don’t have to take my own advice if I have released it into the universe in one exclamation of defeat.
It’s a reverse psychology technique that works its groove on me. The equivalent to some hot guy actually bumping and grinding against me and not pissing me off.
A feat that is almost impossible.
It doesn’t sound like my voice. I can give the echo advice. I can “big it up”
I can talk to it into standing up and fighting for its right to be heard and I tell it
“You can evolve from a mere echo – fuck narcissus literally or metaphorically and leave him to it. “
“Let him drown in his reflection – pooled – snookered. chalked – marked . boxed in.”
When you challenge what others say about you , to you or what they think of you – you may come across as confrontational and emotional -defensive even.
Only you can allow yourself the chance to evolve from an echo that gets lost in the underwater caves – that will die when the tide comes bubbling in.
Don’t let it die in the spindrift.
Let it evolve into a voice.
Your voice can speak on behalf of so many who don’t even know or even have to know what you are doing.
It’s allowing growth to occur – it’s building character.
Someone , who hasn’t found their voice yet- somewhere down the line – possibly living the bear necessity life, will hear it.
It could come from another voice – passed down like a traditional story Isn’t that how stories first evolved?
Isn’t that people first learned how to take in information that we feel is important to pass down ?
Isn’t that why we can write paint, talk, act, dance, move , protest, make peace, argue ,debate, remember,honor, create?
It can take one person to blow apart everything I have worked for.
I throw out my’ I GIVE UP’ boomerang – it comes back in another form
I write about it- moan , grumble, collect evidence to fight my very own standing rock.
I, too need clean water to live. Pure Air to breathe. I need passion to live.
If I allow one character to crush my passion – what then?
What was the point of baring my soul to the world?
Of not being ashamed airing all of my experiences, who I am and what I’ve done ?
Hang out my entire newly washed, passion fruit scented lingerie collection ,in the densely packed , over populated jungle I live in . Free to be dissected, analyzed, mocked ,admired ,mimicked, ignored.
I write plagued with doubt .
I hit publish.
I take the time to thank the people who inspire me and get me, and then all of a sudden – the world – parts of energy sense a spirit giving out and not holding back.
These energies group together , have a cup of herbal tea and a catch-up and then -I get an email – validating my voice, what I do.
I get a:
” Wow thank you – I needed this – I can’t accept it in the way you want me to but I will give you this….“
This gives me the strength to fight my wars, my battles – a new era begins tomorrow.
I’ve developed lock jaw – not letting go of this one just yet.
I want to see what doors close and what doors open
I want to see the lights illuminate the path I am on.
If only to see the shape of it;
If I can’t see that – I have no hope.
Without hope, I have no beat- then it is time to call in the clubs and spades.
So, give up , take a breather , read the terms and conditions, ask for feedback from more than one source, look at those around you- those strong people who manage to carry on with a smile their on the face.
I don’t know the outcome of this particular situation or most situations I put myself in.
I do have a goal no matter how blurred.
I do know I have to go into every experience with an open mind, a solid form , confidence, boldness and the idea that:
I may be wrong,
I may be right.
Maybe a bit of both ?
* not my usual style of writing*
When someone has said to her:
oh, you’re pretty.
She always gets mad and ditzy and insulted.
Is that all ,pretty?
not beautiful ,funny, smart, intelligent , dramatic?
that fuels her embers –
I’ll show you pretty.
Pretty demeaning is how I would describe her state of mind.
She’s come to that crossroad: hit a right for success or hit a left for back to her ‘usual isle of distress’.
She’s always had this pretty dark quirk in her nature- a dent .
More like her nature took a key to her brain – triggered it in the same way a malicious person keys a person with a fine automobile or new car.
That is what she does to her mind. It’s almost like there is another- living inside her . She’s not pretty .
She is ugly .
She says ugly things .
She makes people cry.
She pushes people away.
She isolates herself .
She knows it will end up wrapped up in stained sheets of her own self-pity cries .
Ones she pushed for – ones she earned.
She never liked herself – wouldn’t have her own picture taken for a long time.In hatred, she tore up all pictures of herself ,
then sometime in her life she grew confident and started taking lots of pictures of herself -too many .
Maybe she was beautiful stunning, pretty even ?
Was it worth the self-damnation she put herself through to achieve a look she deemed is acceptable?
Many people have asked her what it feels like to be so intelligent and aware of her issues- to have so much insight and phycology into her own problems.
Is it a blessing or a curse?
Let’s try something .
Think of a person coming to her house with a bottle of wine/ cocaine /pills/ bondage style stuff/ comic books – insert vice/ fetish /escapism tool ………..here.
Let’s make this person -super – pervy -sleazy -gender? unknown.
PERVY PERSON: So, like ,hey why the long face? ( stream of consciousness brain has become lame) You , uh … wanna get wasted ?
She does get caught off guard sometimes not always.
The truth is these days her reply is mostly,
She’s a stubborn mare .
She knows the consequences .
She knows the problem is burrowed deep within her – nothing but her can make it stop.
Either way, she has to live with herself.
So , she gets the whole escapism psychology .
She has taken countless overdoses, countless drugs, been in various institutions – locked up for being herself -criminal or “just” insane.
It doesn’t work.
Why does she push people away?
She knows about her upbringing and she can’t blame them or that or it.
Or the others- this is not a horror movie!
It’s her life.
Yeah, agreed. Pretty horrific.
She is an adult- with her own mind and life and responsibilities.
Her pretty demented reasoning is : eventually – she will hurt those she loves and she would rather things got horribly ugly-
sooner rather later.
She doesn’t want to draw it out.
Oh, darling , Don’t let her fool you. She loves acting!
She can do one hell of a supernova act if she wants but she isn’t malicious – something inside her is disturbed.
It may have come with her when she got delivered on a wonky legged stork,
she may have seen something that petrified her into this state of self-destruction.
She loves to sing twinkle twinkle little star to her only child.
Stars are huge.
She knows why people always say before they die or, to someone who has recently lost someone
There is the person you love – twinkling above – looking out for you.
Stars have a lifespan of billions of years. It’s pretty amazing to think she quite possibly looked at the very same stars that her great grandparents or ancestors looked at many moons ago.
( singing) When you wish upon a star…. know that once she did so same from afar.
Ha – pretty lame as it gets.
Ever thought what it would be like to have a child /ren who are siamese twins?
Say you could only possibly save one.
One was seen as truly wicked and the other?
Well, the other one could go on to make his/her mark in the world.
Maybe not with a fancy career but merely by being human.
Reaching out to people in need.
It can make a difference!
Sometimes more than all the money in the world could.
Just knowing someone cares. What does she know.
I digress, – -in a pretty way – ha ha.
Think of yourself as a mother -as a person with some kind of intellect .
You would reason that no person is born inherently evil or absolutely good.
There are many sides to a person.
Inside her is her very own siamese twin.
She has to put one down .
In that moment,that pretty wicked one has a grip on her heart and her mind – it’s all so terribly confusing and frustrating
So ,she has to make a decision.
Invasive surgery for, no – on her siamese twins, in the hope, that the one with the potential to twinkle can be reborn.
Good by, Red dwarf. Be angry.
Good by, white dwarf -cool down.
And finally, ciao ,Black dwarf – your true composite make up is on show for all to see.
Your heart is blackened – not because you are evil.
It’s just the nature of how life (and those who energize and roam it) goes.