A blank sheet of paper.
That challenging white expanse.
Do I fill it with gentle words of love,
spit angry tirades onto the page,
or etch sadness into its pulp?
Should I cover it with bright paint
depicting the glory of the summer sun,
or wash it in muted tones
with tears of grey
to reflect the world?
Then I remember that this new day
is my blank sheet,
and I am that empty page,
clean and pristine,
to embellish as I choose.
And to cover my surface,
today I choose primary colours,
bright and forthright,
with luminous language
that gladdens the soul.
I was recently asked if I would be able to write a poem about our Art Group (visit the Sutton Art Group website to see what we get up to there). Up for a challenge, I came up with this one, which they were so pleased with they asked me to read it at the opening ceremony of our 20th Annual Exhibition last Saturday, so I thought I’d share it with you too.
The Art Group
Outside, the windows are awash,
Wet on wet this watercolour morning.
The messy collage of a weary world
continues out there, but inside, inside…
Inside is a cacophony of colour
spilling across the tables,
blending with pastel chuckles
and bright acrylic laughter.
The broad brushstrokes of practice
sit comfortably alongside
the detail of accomplishment,
each hand working, creating,
whilst quietly
the paper absorbs the memories
these friends trace together
each Friday morning.
I notice I haven’t shared much in the way of music with you lately, but at the lastest session of our poetry group we tackled the tricky subject of ‘Can song lyrics be poetry?’ To be honest, it seems like an almost unanswerable question, and we all had our own ideas on the subject, so I’d love to hear your views or if you’ve got any particularly poetical favourites.
I must say, it did lead us to look as some pretty varied music – everything from the Beatles ‘A day in the Life’ to the haunting ‘Strange Fruit’ sung by Billie Holliday (which was originally written as a poem by Abel Meeropol), via Leonard Cohen’s ‘Suzanne’, so quite an interesting, thought provoking, and eclectic mix.
To add to it, we also had a look at the one I have shared with you below. You may not have come across Jake Thackray before, but I remembered him for his appearances on ‘That’s Life’ in the early 1970’s. I always loved his witty songs delivered in that unique rich voice with a Yorkshire accent.
I hadn’t heard this one for many years, but remembered it immediately and it still makes me laugh. Though the preamble is very much of it’s time, I’m sure the song is one that many people can relate to (I couldn’t possibly comment!!). So here it is – Lah Di Dah, by Jake Thackray. Hope it makes your Monday. x
My latest attempt with acrylics. Think I’ve gone a bit heavy handed with the black outline, but otherwise not too bad I guess. I will master this… I will master this…. I will master this…! 🙂
The fruits decayed beneath me as I slept
in the sunshine of the yellow day,
whilst the rest of the world danced,
oblivious to the sorrowful dreams
sowing the seeds of chaos in my head.
I fell into the water
and the purple waves
took me to the edge of time.
I nestled there and watched the peacocks
strut amongst the turtles,
and the underwater things writhing in the air,
and there, amongst the rocks and pearls of the sea,
I took my last land lubber breath.
He flounders through the white rooms
of ubiquity
whilst stars falter
and sink into the weeping dark
and night will become day
only when that child opens his eyes
My sweetlings.
Commas wrapped in crochet shawls.
Cradled, they knew not what lay ahead
in this desperate world,
only the soft strokes and gentle voices
Of love.
Rosy cheeked
they fell into the rhythms of childhood,
with it’s classroom wars
and playground battles.
They learned to navigate their own steep road
And won.
Their prize?
Independence and freedom
from the happy home.
That cosy ancestral cave
Whose walls housed secrets, and memories,
And me
How they grew,
my little sweetlings.
Confident, funny and smart,
they are brilliance in these dark days,
shining their light on every distant path
they take.
Rebooting 