The Mystery of Trees

The woods behind the fields are guarded by a crumbling stone wall and a maze of pricker bushes with thorns an inch long.  It takes a bit of maneuvering to navigate a path, and it’s quite difficult to do with a dog who insists on following you on your adventure.  Still, we eventually made it through into the trees’ shadow-filled world.

They instantly reminded me of a favorite book from my younger years, The Lost Years of Merlin, and how the trees have their own language.  The wind moaning, branches creaking and shifting…it isn’t hard to imagine them speaking to each other, wondering what intruder has entered their canopy of twisting vines and groping roots.

Poetry Exercise: Word-Substitution Poem

Exercise taken from Creating Poetry by John Drury.  Page 26, exercise 2:

Choose a poem that interests you.  Using a fresh sheet of paper, write down new words to replace each word of your model.  Substitute your own words for those of the other poem, making sure you keep the same arrangements of parts of speech.  That is, substitute nouns for nouns, verbs for verbs, and so on.  You can write down opposites or antonyms if you like (“hot” for “cold”), but don’t feel restricted by that possibility.  The idea is to keep the other poet’s syntax (or arrangement of words) while providing your own building materials, your own vocabulary.

“A Dream of Jealousy” by Seamus Heaney

Walking with you and another lady

In a wooded parkland, the whispering grass

Ran its fingers through our guessing silence

And the trees opened into a shady

Unexpected clearing where we sat down.

We talking about desire and being jealous,

Our conversation a loose single gown

Or a white picnic tablecloth spread out

Like a book of manners in the wilderness.

‘Show me,’ I said to our companion, ‘what

I have much coveted, your breast’s mauve star.’

And she consented.  Oh neither these verses

Nor my prudence, love, can heal your wounded stare.

Model

Skating with you and only you

under hushed snow, the fallen flakes

rested their bodies on our woolen caps

and the clouds turned into a misty

hollowed sky when we looked up.

I think the grayness of the day excited us.

We laughed over ice and being cold,

our voices a warm smoky apparition

or a lost baleful spirit held out

like a flag of white in the breeze.

‘Tell me,’ I said to your cheek, ‘what

I have often wondered, your heart’s true want.’

And you answered.  Oh, neither this frost

nor your pretense, love, can hide your empty gaze.

What I think:

This exercise helped me think about word placement and parts of speech–I couldn’t just choose anything and hope it made sense.  They had to match the ones in Heaney’s poem.  It’s a good exercise for writers who tend to just throw words together rather than stop and think “Why am I choosing this word?  Does it establish the meaning I’m trying to get across?”  It definitely took more patience than free-writing.

That being said, I adore Seamus Heaney’s poetry, and I don’t feel my exercise could even stand in the shadow of his work…but the point was to try and emulate a good writer’s work, which can only lead to better writing for me.  Eventually 🙂

Poetry Exercise: Rise of an Avocado Day.

Exercise taken from Creating Poetry by John Drury.  Page 19, exercise 14:

Write a poem that’s all sound, a babble of word music, letting vowels echo and consonants repeat, not worrying much about what it means.  Savor the sounds.  If this seems hard to begin, try listing as many delicious words as you can, words you can taste (and proper names too), like “crush” and “deliquescent” and “Susquehanna.”

Rise of an Avocado Day

Silver’s gossamer evanescence slips down a cherrywood banister,

whispers a phosphorescent dawn.

This is an avocado day, the sky jade over the sea, so

our lips hover over taste in hope.

This is morning that knocks on your cellar door like cymbals,

crashing, open, but listening, glistening, freshening the sun.

Dew like clear pearls between grass blades, our toes curling

under chestnut earth, the delicate doves gray against green.

Wings slicing air like jazz in a hazy room, fog like

cigar smoke hovering above water.

Our breath is just an undercurrent of the breeze,

slender as invisibility

but grasping everything with the strength of a titan.

My love,

we go free with this daybreak,

we rise like robins,

rove like gypsies under mauve morning.

And we won’t return even when the moon steals the sky.

By:  Janessa Barrette

What I think:

I enjoyed this exercise because it allowed me to free-write with words that feel like honey on the tongue.  I found myself writing with a hunger for how the language sounded, not necessarily what it meant.  That’s for later revisions, not for the initial exercise.  I like “avocado day” and “wings slicing air like jazz in a hazy room.”  I think the end became a bit cliche, but I’m not too bothered because I was just going with the poem’s feeling…I think there’s something to work with, here.

The Clutter of Crows

A "murder" of crows

Despite the negativity that surrounds crows, these birds are extremely intelligent creatures.  They’re known for collecting random objects (especially shiny things) and storing them in a hidden place.  They never throw these things out, but return and play with them, or even use them as tools if they figure out a way to do so.

We do the same thing, when you think about it.  Many of us have in our homes what we call a “junk drawer”–a place where we store odds and ends.  Usually these are objects we think we’ll be able to use later, or even things we just can’t bring ourselves to throw out.  I have a box dedicated to craft or decoupaging items.  It has beads, old keys, magazine cut-outs, broken necklaces, movie ticket stubs…anything I could use later for a craft project.  Sometimes I open it just to remind myself of what’s in there.

I don’t believe that a blog has to have a main theme–it’s a place for creativity and idea exploration.  Whether or not all of these ideas have to be connected is up to the person writing.  I have an interest in multiple things, as does everyone, and I will write each post as an idea comes to me.  My aim is for this blog to be a kind of online junk drawer of thoughts, ideas, photographs, beliefs, and whatever else there is to write about.  And I suppose that in itself is a kind of theme.