On Writing Long Lines

As you may know, I’m currently getting to grips with a Masters in Creative Writing with the Open University.  As an exercise we were asked to look at lines in poetry and experiment with using different lengths.  This is the lyric essay that I wrote as a result:

On Writing Long Lines

Well, I’ve never written a line this long

before, I’ve always gone the short route, yes

shorter even than this which seems to me to be

rather overlong, rather, you know, unnecessarily

wordy. It’s true, I’m not saying much, not capturing

your interest. See, I’m not fluent in this kind of thing, not

experienced in these long poetic pieces that successfully play

with language. Those lines that are musical, that live on in the ear

like a snapshot of a really good memory from years ago when you went

to the beach and laid prostrate for eight hours reading your favourite novel

of all time. Or that time when you danced until three under a full tropical moon

and, after the hangover wore off, you hummed the tunes for days on end never wanting

to lose that feeling of abandonment. But as you know, we all have to knuckle down and when

we’re asked to write in different lines, being creatures that need approval, we do as we are

told, even though its alien, it makes us feel weird inside, it makes our voices shake

and tremble towards the end as our breaths run out and our brains just can’t

take anymore. And so I’ve done it. I’ve written lines that maybe are not

poetry. Maybe they are. Who is to say?  All I know is that in future

I’ll stick to my own little way and I’ll speak loud and clear

and in tiny lines of just three feet, no more than that,

and I doubt I’ll ever pen a poem using long lines

such as these, ever, no never, again.

 

 

 

 

Colour bombing

Still no writing to share (bloomin’ Masters course) instead, to keep you amused, I thought I’d share another of my painting exploits with you.  As you may already know I have a love/hate relationship with my arty efforts. Lets just say it doesn’t come all that naturally to me. But hey ho, keep on trying eh?

A couple of weeks ago we had a splendid workshop session at our art group (Click here to find out more about the group) which introduced me to the wonders of ‘Brusho’. Of course, I’ve seen it advertised, but never really understood what the product was. Well, it turns out it is powdered pigment which you can sprinkle on to wet paper to produce some fireworky effects. Sprinkling it onto dry paper then spraying with water also produces some lovely rainbow colours. This is because colours such as leaf green, or grey, are made up of different pigments which are separate in the pots but merge on the paper. It was great fun and I was pleased with the result too (for a change!) What do you think of ‘Lunch in the Jungle’? The background is brusho and the birds and details pen and coloured pencil. Oh, and for any pedants out there… these are my Kingfishers and they do live in the jungle, ok!! 😉

IMG_1232 (Edited)

Please

I didn’t have a sixteenth birthday party
I’d fallen out with me dad
Over a Beatles song
Who knew a man could be so mean
To snap his purse shut
For being proved wrong

Did he love me?
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Well, he said he did
But he wouldn’t pay for a party
For an ungrateful girl
Who disagreed with her dad

So while hippies swayed at Woodstock
And the man walked on the moon
I sat in my room and cried
Over my own stubborn streak
And a dad who didn’t
Please me.

On the Quay at Fishguard

DSC_0880

We sat and stared at the sea
its distant calm expanse
as blue as the sky.
Closer, the kaleidoscope of grey patterns
hid its secret creatures,
as the seaweed danced
to natures rhythm.

Boats slid across the surface,
or, captured by a buoy,
swayed sadly in the wake.
Gulls gossiped and watched
as the crab man came
and unloaded his catch,
startled red within their cages.

Then the ferry loomed,
its bulk altering perspectives
as it steered imperiously to port.