Saturday Writing Update 24/06/2017

Here we are, the first week back in London, England and back into work! It’s been good, returning to routine, in many ways, and one of the things it does great good to is my writing habits. I have the layout to work around instead of all the time in the world. Need a bit of panic.

The Elephant and The Nun is not plodding anymore, it’s actually begun to run! I have a few hundred words to add and then I’ll be in possession of another first draft of a chapter – exciting stuff! Ideas are coming, foundations are being laid, half the chapters are outlined and have a completion date set by them, so there is a clear progression. If anyone would like to read anything I have so far they are more than welcome to, just drop a comment. 

As for poetry, next week I have a series planned. A short and simple set of poems which are my take on the traditional Japanese Haiku (I couldn’t remember the syllabilic structure and so wrote what felt right with myself). I hope they’re enjoyable! 

And in the coming weeks there should also be a short story appearing, I’ll keep you updated. 

Have a blessed Sunday.

The Wide Country Horizon – Poem

A second poem from Canada. This is from our second day of travel, when we spent time in Winnipeg and caught the Greyhound Coach.

The Wide Country Horizon

The wide country horizon,
Water colour trees and lake,
Roads laid to gridded paper,
And Arnold’s Dauphinite mind.
Manitoba, you are kind;
Smiles, Motor Inn to Greyhound.
Hot cakes and syrup and sleep,
Gopher Park – Assiniboine.

UK’s copied your dinked coin,
And it spends well, slots and plates
Across Winnipeg, till time
Taps a shoulder and we go.
Thanks, Twinbearer for your show
Of conversation to us,
Strangers by the bus who sought
The wide country horizon.

Artitus and I, To Canada – Poem

As you who follow this blog you know I’ve been away in Canada these past six weeks. It’s been quite the adventure, and I learnt a lot about where I was, what we did, and the usual discovering yourself thing (only by keeping a journal and reflecting – nothing farfetched). I did keep my writing up during this time though mainly focused on a journal (as mentioned) and planning my first “novel?”.

To keep things short and sweet, I’m back and here is a poem I wrote on the flight over. There’s more to come in the weeks ahead.

It’s good to be back!

Artitus and I, To Canada

Our mum’d be proud of mash-clouds
Hung on mobiles tied to blue,
Which shade the ships and each mound
Of land ‘neath our spreading view.

Altitude-chocolate gone,
Artitus takes up the pen
Records journeys out of home
And she makes her notes of when.

Our mum’d be proud of her two
Taking off across the sea,
Knowing fears affect on you –
Ne’er mind what it does to me!

Artitus jots down her hues;
On adventure now begun
Above mountains she’ll now use
To fuel her creative sun.

Our mum’d be proud to show
To the thousandth passerby,
“Look at Artitus’ bliss,
Them holding hands, makes me cry!”

Been a journey all to here:
Greenland, Calgary, land sore.
Now counting nears our first year
Pray we seek to take in more.

Please give feedback on any of my work, no matter what your thoughts. I’m a growing writer and must learn!

Young’s Modulus – Poem

Young’s Modulus

We are all beautiful in the sun
The light obscures our deepest features
And blinds the observer’s eye so well
They think I might be a goodful man.
But who lives well in the rain that stains
And drains – dripping down a hoping heart?
She’s one whose care shines through the flooding
And the strength she has by the Arm draws love.

Long Week – Poem

Short poem on loss of inspiration, discipline, slight disappointment in work, fun, and tiredness.

Long Week

Press in the neck
And pulse in the stomach.
Weight in the arms
And my strength of the child.
Darkness outside
And eyes closing inward.
Tongue losing whip
And mind’s faltering wit.
Mock shock!
Can it be poetry escapes me?

Kings Of The Earth – Poem

Kings Of The Earth

Here the kings of the Earth rise up
Out of their thrones, into the cup
Of judgement, justice, holy wrath;
Spared we a thought for life’s aftermath?
We are gods, but will die as men
And what will all of us do when
A prophet’s prophecies come true;
Souls weighed and, wanting, undo
The love in giving to that man
Sheltered under the streetlight’s hand
– Though blessed it surely is, we know
Twelve bars of gold weigh not what’s owed.
Deserving nothing we should cry,
Wondering everlasting why.
Be thankful we are well kept here
And have this moment to draw near.

Come, Shield and Charger – Poem

Come, Shield and Charger

Set yourself to steel; a shield is needed
And we can have no spike against the hand,
No weakness to bring harm to the bearer,
Or Death will have a merry feast this war.
Your troop is doubting, and are they correct?
Come, Charger – leader of the family – ,
It is time to ride to battle, and prove
That, though with faltered step, you lead with love.