Cheers,
Jacqui
Sunday, 23 December 2007
Christmas Cheers
Just wanted to wish everyone all the fun of the festive season and continued joy for the New Year. It has been a busy year for me, the fun (not!) of selling our house, renovating then moving house and my children changing school mid-year. It's been quite a year but things have settled down now and I am looking forward to words tumbling out. See you all soon.
Monday, 10 December 2007
Resonant Words
Jonathon, your poem Male Seeks has more for me with each new reading. It speaks to me in my unheard daughter self and it cries out to me in my can't bare to hear mother self. I would love to see it performed by two people, maybe at the open-mic in May.
I am a great believer in listening for the signs of the Cosmos and after reading your poem for the third time I decided to dip into a book of poetry as I let your words penetrate and the book just opened at a poem I have never read before called
MY MOTHER WOULD BE A FALCONRESS by Robert Duncan
My mother would be a falconress,
And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist,
would fly to bring back
from the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize,
where I dream in my little hood with many bells
jangling when I'd turn my head.
My mother would be a falconress,
and she sends me as far as her will goes.
She lets me ride to the end of her curb
where I fall back in anguish.
I dread that she will cast me away,
for I fall, I mis-take, I fail in her mission.
She would bring down the little birds.
And I would bring down the little birds.
When will she let me bring down the little birds,
pierced from their flight with their necks broken,
their heads like flowers limp from the stem?
I tread my mother's wrist and would draw blood.
Behind the little hood my eyes are hooded.
I have gone back into my hooded silence,
talking to myself and dropping off to sleep.
For she has muffled my dreams in the hood she has made me,
sewn round with bells, jangling when I move.
She rides with her little falcon upon her wrist.
She uses a barb that brings me to cower.
These are only the first five verses, there are ten more, if you are interested I will type the whole thing and email it to you. I have a scanner sitting on my desk beside me but have not yet learnt how to use it, my husband has tried to teach me but I guess I am not yet ready to learn because I can't remember a word he told me. I have come to a time in my life where memory is a sometimes thing.
I look forward to getting to know you better and reading more of your resonant words. Safe journey along the road you are about to travel.
Tricia
I am a great believer in listening for the signs of the Cosmos and after reading your poem for the third time I decided to dip into a book of poetry as I let your words penetrate and the book just opened at a poem I have never read before called
MY MOTHER WOULD BE A FALCONRESS by Robert Duncan
My mother would be a falconress,
And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist,
would fly to bring back
from the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize,
where I dream in my little hood with many bells
jangling when I'd turn my head.
My mother would be a falconress,
and she sends me as far as her will goes.
She lets me ride to the end of her curb
where I fall back in anguish.
I dread that she will cast me away,
for I fall, I mis-take, I fail in her mission.
She would bring down the little birds.
And I would bring down the little birds.
When will she let me bring down the little birds,
pierced from their flight with their necks broken,
their heads like flowers limp from the stem?
I tread my mother's wrist and would draw blood.
Behind the little hood my eyes are hooded.
I have gone back into my hooded silence,
talking to myself and dropping off to sleep.
For she has muffled my dreams in the hood she has made me,
sewn round with bells, jangling when I move.
She rides with her little falcon upon her wrist.
She uses a barb that brings me to cower.
These are only the first five verses, there are ten more, if you are interested I will type the whole thing and email it to you. I have a scanner sitting on my desk beside me but have not yet learnt how to use it, my husband has tried to teach me but I guess I am not yet ready to learn because I can't remember a word he told me. I have come to a time in my life where memory is a sometimes thing.
I look forward to getting to know you better and reading more of your resonant words. Safe journey along the road you are about to travel.
Tricia
Sunday, 9 December 2007
welcome to a new voice
Jonathan, if your witty poem "Male Seeks" is an indication of your style , then we are in for some interesting sessions next year! I think that you have a very individual voice, different from anyone else in the group, so maybe you will give us a new perspective on poetry (and life?). I'm looking forward to it!
Thanks for a delightful afternoon Cecilia - it was a sort of "unlaced" Victorian High Tea. The scones and tea and the fine bone china lent a veneer of respectability to the occasion but the I think the green champagne revealed the true agenda.
Have a very happy Xmas everyone
Geoffrey & June
Thanks for a delightful afternoon Cecilia - it was a sort of "unlaced" Victorian High Tea. The scones and tea and the fine bone china lent a veneer of respectability to the occasion but the I think the green champagne revealed the true agenda.
Have a very happy Xmas everyone
Geoffrey & June
A workshop wish for you on 11.12.07
Sir:
It is always difficult to manage your place of birth
once you have assigned a difference to yourself
you will find new links are forged
but crafted with sensitivity and pure light
this time not chains but delicate threads
that weave from a different loom,
in a spacious room,
and not facing emotional ruin
it can and will happen soon
forget being held out a silver spoon
better yet to fall from a phosperescent moon
so tuck that umbilicial cord
back where it can no longer cut
and begin begin again....
cecilia
It is always difficult to manage your place of birth
once you have assigned a difference to yourself
you will find new links are forged
but crafted with sensitivity and pure light
this time not chains but delicate threads
that weave from a different loom,
in a spacious room,
and not facing emotional ruin
it can and will happen soon
forget being held out a silver spoon
better yet to fall from a phosperescent moon
so tuck that umbilicial cord
back where it can no longer cut
and begin begin again....
cecilia
Saturday, 8 December 2007
I was Gored once
Gore was here flogging his Doco. on Climate Change "An Inconvenient Truth"
An Inconvenient Press Conference It was for me,
As he stepped on my foot on arrival!
I grizzled,
he must weigh a lot but I bet he cant run fast as he talks,
he was gracious, predictable and benign.
A " lame" and uninvited response to Yellowstone found poem-sorry,
Larson's Cartoons also come to mind.
Just an example of how we may respond in any form to each other creating something new
or epanding on something>??
I invite responses to my pieces in any form: text, art, music...
to be continued
Warm regards
Jonathon... ps. am temporarily being semi prolofic due to a quiet day at work!
Gore was here flogging his Doco. on Climate Change "An Inconvenient Truth"
An Inconvenient Press Conference It was for me,
As he stepped on my foot on arrival!
I grizzled,
he must weigh a lot but I bet he cant run fast as he talks,
he was gracious, predictable and benign.
A " lame" and uninvited response to Yellowstone found poem-sorry,
Larson's Cartoons also come to mind.
Just an example of how we may respond in any form to each other creating something new
or epanding on something>??
I invite responses to my pieces in any form: text, art, music...
to be continued
Warm regards
Jonathon... ps. am temporarily being semi prolofic due to a quiet day at work!
Male Seeks
Male seeks, Mother seeks beatification
well, Female.
Male, about Forty,
lives with Mum, .............. You should be buying a house
seeks independant Female If you'd bought when I'd told you
Male seeks fellow seekers you'd be rolling in
clover
Male , seeking, ... if you were normal you'd be married by now
grieves.
........ Since my husband died...
.. I'm bloody well grieving and nobody cares
Male, emasculated, . I shld have had four abortions you were all accidents
seeks solace. we'll never get over this, we gave up everything for the kids
Male ,
practicing Zen and the search for the perfect co-parent: ...where did you find her?
passively looking, trusting in a bounteous Universe, why dont you...
sensing lots of fish in the ocean all the while trapped & flapping in a shallow puddle,
seeks fabulous sensualist
Grieving male seeks ...
grooving female
Male seeker grieves for Mother I told you I was ill
We did love you you know, we did
Sir,
sixty, Shit, just as I feared, there's nothing here,
settles for solitude and a shame sandwich nothin...................
Male seeks, Mother seeks beatification
well, Female.
Male, about Forty,
lives with Mum, .............. You should be buying a house
seeks independant Female If you'd bought when I'd told you
Male seeks fellow seekers you'd be rolling in
clover
Male , seeking, ... if you were normal you'd be married by now
grieves.
........ Since my husband died...
.. I'm bloody well grieving and nobody cares
Male, emasculated, . I shld have had four abortions you were all accidents
seeks solace. we'll never get over this, we gave up everything for the kids
Male ,
practicing Zen and the search for the perfect co-parent: ...where did you find her?
passively looking, trusting in a bounteous Universe, why dont you...
sensing lots of fish in the ocean all the while trapped & flapping in a shallow puddle,
seeks fabulous sensualist
Grieving male seeks ...
grooving female
Male seeker grieves for Mother I told you I was ill
We did love you you know, we did
Sir,
sixty, Shit, just as I feared, there's nothing here,
settles for solitude and a shame sandwich nothin...................
My Break
a scary & exciting adventure:, workshops loom,
ancient hurts & unmet needs return, unearthed from warm shallow graves,/closets.
Finances stripped, solitude ensured,
I surrender myself to glory or doom:
11 days locked in, whilst most while away with "holyday"
when traditional man-made manacles descend,
enforced break with kin we choose not,
unlike friend.
11 days to explore, examine , express, feel tectonic soul plates shift ,
deep rumblings, then geysers leading to mini Volcanoes...
until the calm that's bound to come, the cellular biological lift!
having gone where 'cultured' man too rarely goes,
feeling deeply, open, honest, human, raw, down to his toes.
So, dear kith, I seek "inter-subjective response " from any & all, despite being unpolished & a tad cryptic, does this stir a reaction?, any form welcome.Feedback too but also keen to initiate this idea of responding to each other's content & style ,generating connected material.
ps ,am doing some Primal Therapy-just to put it in context>>
Warm Regards
Jonathon
a scary & exciting adventure:, workshops loom,
ancient hurts & unmet needs return, unearthed from warm shallow graves,/closets.
Finances stripped, solitude ensured,
I surrender myself to glory or doom:
11 days locked in, whilst most while away with "holyday"
when traditional man-made manacles descend,
enforced break with kin we choose not,
unlike friend.
11 days to explore, examine , express, feel tectonic soul plates shift ,
deep rumblings, then geysers leading to mini Volcanoes...
until the calm that's bound to come, the cellular biological lift!
having gone where 'cultured' man too rarely goes,
feeling deeply, open, honest, human, raw, down to his toes.
So, dear kith, I seek "inter-subjective response " from any & all, despite being unpolished & a tad cryptic, does this stir a reaction?, any form welcome.Feedback too but also keen to initiate this idea of responding to each other's content & style ,generating connected material.
ps ,am doing some Primal Therapy-just to put it in context>>
Warm Regards
Jonathon
Friday, 7 December 2007
Friday
Fellow coast liners what a lovely high/low tea on Wednesday. Thank you for your contributions which made it sweet and easy for me to host the tea. I didn't have to cook an evening meal. I did have six scones with lashings of jam and cream.
And a special thank you for the wonderful crafted card by June. Her love of flora now a part of my memorabilia and the white Dagwood forever preserved. And to all of you my heart beat that much faster with your words in the card and your generous gift. I have already browsed the bookshop today, but will not rush the purchase. I will wait until after Xmas.
It has been a delight to spend the monthly Wednesdays with you and not just for the poetry but the bon amie and warmth always present. I always left feeling more in touch with life and love, and a glow of having heard your special poems. There were changes in us all, from the first meeting, as we unfolded and became part of a whole. You have made my life so much richer.
What a treat Jonathon you were. Yes, you slipped from stranger to friend in a couple of breaths. Doesn't happen often, but when it does magic. Thank you for taking on all the 'do this and do that'. The mother saga continues as Ian writes copious letters to insurance companies, and mother's case manager is absolutely agog at her taking on a hire car and flying around the suburbs.
Last night's meeting at Brighton library saw a number of Coast Liners present; Tricia, Geoff, Suzanne, Jonathon, Ian pseudo member. Karyn was pleased to see us as numbers were down for the meeting. Another thanks for your involvement.
Our poetry workshop is locked in now for the Saturday 17th May from 2.00 pm till 5.00 pm. I contacted Judith Rodriguez and she agreed. And on the Sunday 18th May from 2.00 pm to 4.00 pm we have open mic and poetry reading,and Jonathon will do something special. Wine and cheese will be provided by the Library for both occasions.. But we do need to charge $15 to attend Judith's workshop. Which is reasonable. I also requested that for both events that we have the venue of the Brighton Library the round area at the front of the library.
So congratulations again. We were the only ones that had a set timetable and event to run.
Tricia did an amazing speedy creative job on getting down to the nitty gritty of naming the competition and the details of how when and what to do. Bravo!
Tricia will be managing the poetry competition. She has titled the competition 'Passion for Poetry'. And her generous husband will provide prize money should a sponsor not be found. At this stage we cannot enter it. However there is also to be a short story competition. This is being worked through by others, but you will be informed.
First meeting in February. Any ideas for a topic, post it on the blog.
Till then I hope I see some of you between now and February for a chat or a coffee, or maybe a swim around here. do have a wonderful Xmas and may the new year be filled with whatever you desire, but most and best of all good health and great relationships.
Cecilia
And a special thank you for the wonderful crafted card by June. Her love of flora now a part of my memorabilia and the white Dagwood forever preserved. And to all of you my heart beat that much faster with your words in the card and your generous gift. I have already browsed the bookshop today, but will not rush the purchase. I will wait until after Xmas.
It has been a delight to spend the monthly Wednesdays with you and not just for the poetry but the bon amie and warmth always present. I always left feeling more in touch with life and love, and a glow of having heard your special poems. There were changes in us all, from the first meeting, as we unfolded and became part of a whole. You have made my life so much richer.
What a treat Jonathon you were. Yes, you slipped from stranger to friend in a couple of breaths. Doesn't happen often, but when it does magic. Thank you for taking on all the 'do this and do that'. The mother saga continues as Ian writes copious letters to insurance companies, and mother's case manager is absolutely agog at her taking on a hire car and flying around the suburbs.
Last night's meeting at Brighton library saw a number of Coast Liners present; Tricia, Geoff, Suzanne, Jonathon, Ian pseudo member. Karyn was pleased to see us as numbers were down for the meeting. Another thanks for your involvement.
Our poetry workshop is locked in now for the Saturday 17th May from 2.00 pm till 5.00 pm. I contacted Judith Rodriguez and she agreed. And on the Sunday 18th May from 2.00 pm to 4.00 pm we have open mic and poetry reading,and Jonathon will do something special. Wine and cheese will be provided by the Library for both occasions.. But we do need to charge $15 to attend Judith's workshop. Which is reasonable. I also requested that for both events that we have the venue of the Brighton Library the round area at the front of the library.
So congratulations again. We were the only ones that had a set timetable and event to run.
Tricia did an amazing speedy creative job on getting down to the nitty gritty of naming the competition and the details of how when and what to do. Bravo!
Tricia will be managing the poetry competition. She has titled the competition 'Passion for Poetry'. And her generous husband will provide prize money should a sponsor not be found. At this stage we cannot enter it. However there is also to be a short story competition. This is being worked through by others, but you will be informed.
First meeting in February. Any ideas for a topic, post it on the blog.
Till then I hope I see some of you between now and February for a chat or a coffee, or maybe a swim around here. do have a wonderful Xmas and may the new year be filled with whatever you desire, but most and best of all good health and great relationships.
Cecilia
Thursday, 6 December 2007
Thankyou all from Jonathon..
Strangers, just friends I hadn't met yet,
Comrades, soulmates,each unique , vibrant, alive with naive wonder,
a gentle, kind gang,
generous listeners, active listeners,
awake to subltle meaning, craft, feeling.
for the spread, the bonhomie, ...warmth,.... thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
Jonathon Lee
Comrades, soulmates,each unique , vibrant, alive with naive wonder,
a gentle, kind gang,
generous listeners, active listeners,
awake to subltle meaning, craft, feeling.
for the spread, the bonhomie, ...warmth,.... thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
Jonathon Lee
Slam Poetry & Found Poem
Hi Everyone. Thanks again Cecilia (& Ian, too) for hosting a lovely tea.
Credited as the founder of slam poetry is Marc Kelly Smith. You can learn more at http://www.marckellysmith.com/
Also, if you go to http://www.youtube.com/ you can type slam poetry into the search box & view a variety of people performing slam.
There are many slam competitions around the world & the Australian Poetry Slam 2007 finals are being held Dec 7 in Sydney.
Below is the "found poem" I mentioned yesterday. Kind of makes you wonder how stupid tourists can be. One of the rangers said they take bets on how early in the season it will be when the first tourist gets gored...
Now Entering Yellowstone National Park
Many Visitors Have Been Gored
by Buffalo. They weigh
two thousand pounds. They run
three times faster than you. They look
tame, but are wild
unpredictable and dangerous.
Grizzly Bear Area--
Special Rules Apply.
Do not approach
grizzly bears.
$5000 fine.
Severe Frost Heaves.
Loose Stock.
Game Crossing.
Chains Required.
Exit at Memory Road.
Credited as the founder of slam poetry is Marc Kelly Smith. You can learn more at http://www.marckellysmith.com/
Also, if you go to http://www.youtube.com/ you can type slam poetry into the search box & view a variety of people performing slam.
There are many slam competitions around the world & the Australian Poetry Slam 2007 finals are being held Dec 7 in Sydney.
Below is the "found poem" I mentioned yesterday. Kind of makes you wonder how stupid tourists can be. One of the rangers said they take bets on how early in the season it will be when the first tourist gets gored...
Now Entering Yellowstone National Park
Many Visitors Have Been Gored
by Buffalo. They weigh
two thousand pounds. They run
three times faster than you. They look
tame, but are wild
unpredictable and dangerous.
Grizzly Bear Area--
Special Rules Apply.
Do not approach
grizzly bears.
$5000 fine.
Severe Frost Heaves.
Loose Stock.
Game Crossing.
Chains Required.
Exit at Memory Road.
Thursday, 29 November 2007
New York Times 100 Notable Books of 2007
Doubtful that any of us are ever at a loss for reading material, but I like browsing this list because you can never have too many books stacked up on the bedside table!
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/02/books/review/notable-books-2007.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/02/books/review/notable-books-2007.html
Sunday, 18 November 2007
Paradise lost
Back from Paradise - hard landing
Coast Liners Karen and Tricia, thank you for inspirational ideas and great poetry.
Karen what a romantic and wistful sonnet by Rossetti. An era, which we all yearn for at timeswith its softness in life and romantic expectations. And a great suggestion to go onto Victorian site for other kinds of sonnets in Victorian era. Shall do this myself. Although sonnets I find really difficult. But will have a go. I wonder if they would have been so romantic if the age for death were to have risen as now. Imagine a romantic sonnet about ageing people. Now who I could be thinking of. Noteably me, as I just had another birthday and Ian is younger than I.
Tricia, wonderful poems are stimulating. And the poem of the finding of real self. Of course this remains a mystery so many 'selves' and so many people have taught us various selves which are acceptable and decreed permissible to act out. I think we find our truest self, by which I mean that one amongst many, when we can just 'be' in writing, and also in pursuing any activity which totally immerses our 'selves' pleasureably. The one key knowing when this is when time stops.
Your metaphor of tunnels was a great one and good on you for kick starting the blog onwards.
Also thanks to Geoffrey for running the last meeting successfully and getting all the Xmas preparations and Kris Kringles organized. We will have two guests at our luncheon so to the all of us caterers bear this mind. I think you will enjoy their company. They will arrive at 1.00 pm and both like a glass of bubbly and fun. Geoffrey also delivered the hard copies of poetry. Well done you poets. Will comment more when I see you. Still adjusting being back to normal living because,
We stayed in an earthly Paradise. It was an estate high up beyond Ubud in Bali. There was our residence resplendent with a butler a Personal assistant, two cleaners and 74 gardeners. The resident had a dining and lounge room outside overlooking the majestic rice paddies and tropical gardens. June, you would have your art pad out and been busy every hour. There were two restaurants and these had a staff of 12 cooking whilst serviced by several Balinese. The most we saw in either dining room was 6 people. All the outside rooms were open to the tropics and breezes kept temperature down so 'being' in the mountain air was delicious. The balinese are a very happy race, and beautifully trained to not only to do the right thing with guests but a great deal of genuine feeling developed between my 'Yanti' and myself. I have some lovely photos which show this.
No staff were really visible. They had rooms under the residence and would appear and disappear as if they knew exactly what your plans for the day were. Which, by the way they did. Food organic cooked Indonesian style and extremely elegant whilst making use of all the tropical fruits and vegetables that were grown somewhere near.
But the best magic was when in the evening the huge coal pit by our own pool was lit by two Balinese, because our residence was called 'Fire' representing one of the four elements. Others hidden amongst the estate represented wind, water, earth. We did visit these and they had been built with these elements in mind so you felt them once you stepped inside.
So what has this got to do with poetry< NOTHING MUCH> Because whilst away I read, did yoga daily, some Pilates lots of massages and being pampered and sunk into the world of absolutely 'no worries.' So even though I took all the necessary books, pens, I just laid them carefully in the writing area and let them enjoy the serene effect of this magical holiday.
Back to Coast Lines. So next year put on thinking caps and deliver some 'wants' so that we can do some time during the year together. Whether it is a festival, theatrical event, reading, etc. Doesn't matter. Or a picnic where we all write as we wander. How about using our wonderful Botanical Gardens. Anyway up to you, let's make next year a year of other events. And we have the literature festival, which I have a couple of ideas on.
I look forward to seeing you at 55 Black Street Brighton next month on 5th December, for workshop at 10.30 am or thereabouts and lunch at 1.00pm. Or rather my dears High Tea. If you can get on foot or by public transport or get someone to pick you up you can really have some 'letting' go.
If it is hot, which Melbourne seems to be gearing upto, bring bathers if you want you can always stay on and have a swim or just sink into the water for a cool down.
I have also asked Ian to join us later in the day. He is useful as he serves drinks and cleans up beautifully. And he can recite in Welsh if he is very happy.
Which no doubt he will be.
I did think of you all when away and missed being at the last meeting.
Cecilia
Coast Liners Karen and Tricia, thank you for inspirational ideas and great poetry.
Karen what a romantic and wistful sonnet by Rossetti. An era, which we all yearn for at timeswith its softness in life and romantic expectations. And a great suggestion to go onto Victorian site for other kinds of sonnets in Victorian era. Shall do this myself. Although sonnets I find really difficult. But will have a go. I wonder if they would have been so romantic if the age for death were to have risen as now. Imagine a romantic sonnet about ageing people. Now who I could be thinking of. Noteably me, as I just had another birthday and Ian is younger than I.
Tricia, wonderful poems are stimulating. And the poem of the finding of real self. Of course this remains a mystery so many 'selves' and so many people have taught us various selves which are acceptable and decreed permissible to act out. I think we find our truest self, by which I mean that one amongst many, when we can just 'be' in writing, and also in pursuing any activity which totally immerses our 'selves' pleasureably. The one key knowing when this is when time stops.
Your metaphor of tunnels was a great one and good on you for kick starting the blog onwards.
Also thanks to Geoffrey for running the last meeting successfully and getting all the Xmas preparations and Kris Kringles organized. We will have two guests at our luncheon so to the all of us caterers bear this mind. I think you will enjoy their company. They will arrive at 1.00 pm and both like a glass of bubbly and fun. Geoffrey also delivered the hard copies of poetry. Well done you poets. Will comment more when I see you. Still adjusting being back to normal living because,
We stayed in an earthly Paradise. It was an estate high up beyond Ubud in Bali. There was our residence resplendent with a butler a Personal assistant, two cleaners and 74 gardeners. The resident had a dining and lounge room outside overlooking the majestic rice paddies and tropical gardens. June, you would have your art pad out and been busy every hour. There were two restaurants and these had a staff of 12 cooking whilst serviced by several Balinese. The most we saw in either dining room was 6 people. All the outside rooms were open to the tropics and breezes kept temperature down so 'being' in the mountain air was delicious. The balinese are a very happy race, and beautifully trained to not only to do the right thing with guests but a great deal of genuine feeling developed between my 'Yanti' and myself. I have some lovely photos which show this.
No staff were really visible. They had rooms under the residence and would appear and disappear as if they knew exactly what your plans for the day were. Which, by the way they did. Food organic cooked Indonesian style and extremely elegant whilst making use of all the tropical fruits and vegetables that were grown somewhere near.
But the best magic was when in the evening the huge coal pit by our own pool was lit by two Balinese, because our residence was called 'Fire' representing one of the four elements. Others hidden amongst the estate represented wind, water, earth. We did visit these and they had been built with these elements in mind so you felt them once you stepped inside.
So what has this got to do with poetry< NOTHING MUCH> Because whilst away I read, did yoga daily, some Pilates lots of massages and being pampered and sunk into the world of absolutely 'no worries.' So even though I took all the necessary books, pens, I just laid them carefully in the writing area and let them enjoy the serene effect of this magical holiday.
Back to Coast Lines. So next year put on thinking caps and deliver some 'wants' so that we can do some time during the year together. Whether it is a festival, theatrical event, reading, etc. Doesn't matter. Or a picnic where we all write as we wander. How about using our wonderful Botanical Gardens. Anyway up to you, let's make next year a year of other events. And we have the literature festival, which I have a couple of ideas on.
I look forward to seeing you at 55 Black Street Brighton next month on 5th December, for workshop at 10.30 am or thereabouts and lunch at 1.00pm. Or rather my dears High Tea. If you can get on foot or by public transport or get someone to pick you up you can really have some 'letting' go.
If it is hot, which Melbourne seems to be gearing upto, bring bathers if you want you can always stay on and have a swim or just sink into the water for a cool down.
I have also asked Ian to join us later in the day. He is useful as he serves drinks and cleans up beautifully. And he can recite in Welsh if he is very happy.
Which no doubt he will be.
I did think of you all when away and missed being at the last meeting.
Cecilia
Saturday, 17 November 2007
A Sonnet by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Silent Noon
Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,--
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.
Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:--
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
Go to www.sonnets.org for all kinds of sonnets!
Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,--
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.
Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:--
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
Go to www.sonnets.org for all kinds of sonnets!
Friday, 16 November 2007
Victorian Poetry
As a thought starter for those who want to take up the challenge to do something "Victorian" for our December holiday party at Cecilia's lovely Victorian home, here's a website that summarizes Victorian poetry & lists some of the more prominent writers. The Sonnet was a popular form of the era, so perhaps we shall see some sonnets next month!
http://thecriticalpoet.tripod.com/victorian.htm
Karen
http://thecriticalpoet.tripod.com/victorian.htm
Karen
Monday, 5 November 2007
LIGHTS, TUNNELS AND PABLO NERUDA
I was checking the blog and realised that October had been and gone without an entry. I decided rather than wait for some one else to do an update I would go for a wander up the tunnel and look for the light switch. I do love a good metaphor. I'm a bit too fond of cliches as well but that is a story for another day.
Since our last meeting I have discovered a new poet, at least he is new to me. I was reading a poem by Claire Gaskine and there was a line 'reading Neruda naked', this intrigued me so I googled Neruda and discovered some quite amazing poetry. My favourite so far is WE ARE MANY. This poem speaks to the soul of my writer self and I feel a kinship with Pablo that transcends dimensions. I will attempt to copy it and post for your enjoyment.
See you all Wednesday
Tricia
We Are Many
Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.
When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.
On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst
of people of some distinction,
and when I summon my courageous self,
a coward completely unknown to me
swaddles my poor skeleton
in a thousand tiny reservations.
When a stately home bursts into flames,
instead of the fireman I summon,
an arsonist bursts on the scene,
and he is I. There is nothing I can do.
What must I do to distinguish myself?
How can I put myself together?
All the books I read
lionize dazzling hero figures,
brimming with self-assurance.
I die with envy of them;
and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,
I am left in envy of the cowboys,
left admiring even the horses.
But when I call upon my DASHING BEING,
out comes the same OLD LAZY SELF,
and so I never know just WHO I AM,
nor how many I am, nor WHO WE WILL BE BEING.
I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the truly me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.
While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.
Pablo Neruda
Since our last meeting I have discovered a new poet, at least he is new to me. I was reading a poem by Claire Gaskine and there was a line 'reading Neruda naked', this intrigued me so I googled Neruda and discovered some quite amazing poetry. My favourite so far is WE ARE MANY. This poem speaks to the soul of my writer self and I feel a kinship with Pablo that transcends dimensions. I will attempt to copy it and post for your enjoyment.
See you all Wednesday
Tricia
We Are Many
Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.
When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.
On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst
of people of some distinction,
and when I summon my courageous self,
a coward completely unknown to me
swaddles my poor skeleton
in a thousand tiny reservations.
When a stately home bursts into flames,
instead of the fireman I summon,
an arsonist bursts on the scene,
and he is I. There is nothing I can do.
What must I do to distinguish myself?
How can I put myself together?
All the books I read
lionize dazzling hero figures,
brimming with self-assurance.
I die with envy of them;
and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,
I am left in envy of the cowboys,
left admiring even the horses.
But when I call upon my DASHING BEING,
out comes the same OLD LAZY SELF,
and so I never know just WHO I AM,
nor how many I am, nor WHO WE WILL BE BEING.
I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the truly me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.
While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.
Pablo Neruda
Friday, 21 September 2007
back from outback
Hello one and all.
We had a wonderous time in the outback. Sadly returned earlier than expected as my girlfriend's son was killed in a motor bike accident in Mulgrave. Very harrowing and the funeral was today.
However on to coast lines. I think we may have a new member who will be joining us next meeting. I have spoken to him and he sounds very interesting.
Meanwhile Geoffrey I think your poem is wonderful with the revised editing. It cuts right to the bone. If you have some hesitancy with the poem, I have some idea that it might be in the lines beginning with 'they have their place....' What if you went straight from this without the lines about the atlas and tourists to where you again mention their place where there names will fade. I have tried to do some editing on the blog as to what I mean. So maybe my poor skills will work or maybe when we have our meeting we can discuss it. However the poem still stands as strong and powerful and maybe it is best left alone.
The program which may be of interest to you poets is the La Mama Poetica: Voiceprints which will be at La Mama Theatre 205 Faraday Street Carlton. It is described as a program of immersive performances by poets and sound poets who have their mark by striking out alone against prevailing trends.
I am going on Sunday 14 October at 2.30 pm. Tickets are reasonably priced. So why not join me? La Mama number is 9347 6142 or Ticketmaster 1300 136 166.
I did see the show Dickens Women with Miriam Margoyles was as Tina Turner sings 'Simply the Best'. If you get a chance it is a compelling performance.
Will be away next week in Beechworth doing some soul refuelling. Riding on the rail trails. So until then happy writing. Incidentally have not been writing mostly in the doing, feeling and adventuring right now.
Cecilia
We had a wonderous time in the outback. Sadly returned earlier than expected as my girlfriend's son was killed in a motor bike accident in Mulgrave. Very harrowing and the funeral was today.
However on to coast lines. I think we may have a new member who will be joining us next meeting. I have spoken to him and he sounds very interesting.
Meanwhile Geoffrey I think your poem is wonderful with the revised editing. It cuts right to the bone. If you have some hesitancy with the poem, I have some idea that it might be in the lines beginning with 'they have their place....' What if you went straight from this without the lines about the atlas and tourists to where you again mention their place where there names will fade. I have tried to do some editing on the blog as to what I mean. So maybe my poor skills will work or maybe when we have our meeting we can discuss it. However the poem still stands as strong and powerful and maybe it is best left alone.
The program which may be of interest to you poets is the La Mama Poetica: Voiceprints which will be at La Mama Theatre 205 Faraday Street Carlton. It is described as a program of immersive performances by poets and sound poets who have their mark by striking out alone against prevailing trends.
I am going on Sunday 14 October at 2.30 pm. Tickets are reasonably priced. So why not join me? La Mama number is 9347 6142 or Ticketmaster 1300 136 166.
I did see the show Dickens Women with Miriam Margoyles was as Tina Turner sings 'Simply the Best'. If you get a chance it is a compelling performance.
Will be away next week in Beechworth doing some soul refuelling. Riding on the rail trails. So until then happy writing. Incidentally have not been writing mostly in the doing, feeling and adventuring right now.
Cecilia
Monday, 17 September 2007
Aliens Revisited
I've re -worked Aliens, from the last meeting and it would be very helpful to me if I could have your comments. Have I improved it ? I'm really not sure. I'm reasonably happy with the first four sections but I'm still struggling with the rest. I've included the original version for comparison
Thanks.
Geoffrey
Thanks.
Geoffrey
ALIENS (revised)
Do not trust them:
they will whisper that they are the same as you,
will beg your love.
But do not trust them:
secretly, they desire what you already have.
Do not trust them:
See their impure, tinted skins
And their dark, misshapen eyes!
Beware their outlandish clothes,
shut your ears to the harsh music of their speech,
deny their savage gods.
They have their place in this wide world:
on some unseen page in the atlas,
in cities lost in the gazetteer
beginning with Z or X,
where no tourists prance and click
or roll lustily on warm sands.
Places where eyes do not meet,
and scrawled names fade
on the walls
Thrust them back -
better that their bones roll in the wash of our surf.
As for those who, against all odds,
Arrive wide – eyed and smiling on our shore -
seal their lips with barbed wire.
ALIENS (original version)
Do not trust them:
they will whisper that they are the same as you,
will beg your love.
But do not trust them:
secretly, they desire what you already have.
Do not trust them:
See their impure, tinted skins
And their dark, misshapen eyes!
Beware their outlandish clothes,
shut your ears to the harsh music of their speech,
deny their savage gods.
They have a place in this wide world, oh yes,
on some unseen page in the atlas,
in cities lost in the gazetteer
beginning with Z or X;
places where no tourists prance and click
or roll lustily on warm sands.
Places where shit and blood hang heavy in the air,
where testicles are crushed in cold, stone cells.
Send them back.
Here we want no other truth than that
Which reaches us in waves invisible, minute
Stripped of bone, flesh and blood
safe signals of reality, nothing more.
We desire no history to haunt our present
Save the myths glimmering on our screens.
As for those who, against all odds,
Arrive wide – eyed and smiling on our shore -
seal their lips with barbed wire.
Better their bones roll in the wash of our surf,
better they had never lived.
Sunday, 2 September 2007
congratulations
Suzanne, great to hear that you have had two rooku's accepted - congratulations! at this rate we'll need a Coastliner's carriage!
Sunday, 26 August 2007
congratulations to those coast liners writers
A congratulations to Geoffrey and Suzanne for their rooku poems have been accepted by the moving galleries. Suzanne got two accepted. Brilliant. See that the session with Myron had value and a great outcome.
A wonderful poem from Karen who is having an interesting life experience in her other world. We will read your poem at the next meeting Karen, and give you feedback on the blog.
If any of you feel inclined Karen has a personal blog which is an intriguiging read. Our Karen is a talented writer in many areas, and has a great skill to get to the underbelly of her thinking and feeling. Gives the reader plenty to think about in their own lives or lives that touch those close to them. Karen I am in no doubt you are a writer,and continue on with your absorbing blog.
Just back from holiday so much catching up to do, but next meeting Wednesday September 5 at Brighton Library.
In the meantime enjoy the delicious gift of spring in her light as a feather sunshine and sea breezes.
Cecilia
A wonderful poem from Karen who is having an interesting life experience in her other world. We will read your poem at the next meeting Karen, and give you feedback on the blog.
If any of you feel inclined Karen has a personal blog which is an intriguiging read. Our Karen is a talented writer in many areas, and has a great skill to get to the underbelly of her thinking and feeling. Gives the reader plenty to think about in their own lives or lives that touch those close to them. Karen I am in no doubt you are a writer,and continue on with your absorbing blog.
Just back from holiday so much catching up to do, but next meeting Wednesday September 5 at Brighton Library.
In the meantime enjoy the delicious gift of spring in her light as a feather sunshine and sea breezes.
Cecilia
Saturday, 25 August 2007
HAIKU NEWS
This is a quickie post on behalf of Suzanne who can read the blog but not get on at present. She has had two Haiku accepted and was wondering how others have fared. Geoffrey could you please ring her on 95922523 as she can't find you in the phone book.
While I'm here I would like to mention a show on the ABC I have been watching each Tuesday morning. It is called Arrows of Desire and is 30 minutes on poetry, both reading and discussion, I am really enjoying it and think some of you might find it worth a look. 10.35am Tuesdays on ABC TV.
Cheers Tricia
While I'm here I would like to mention a show on the ABC I have been watching each Tuesday morning. It is called Arrows of Desire and is 30 minutes on poetry, both reading and discussion, I am really enjoying it and think some of you might find it worth a look. 10.35am Tuesdays on ABC TV.
Cheers Tricia
Saturday, 18 August 2007
Hello CoastLiners
Hi Everyone. I've been keeping up a bit by reading the blog. I see that the next subject is Occupation & thought I'd post this poem I wrote a couple years ago. Excuse the format issues, I am using a MacBook in a place with only dial-up. Looking forward to seeing everyone in October.
Life's Work
............................... Life, then, is largely a thing
............................... of happens to like, not should.
................................ --Wallace Stevens
An insurance manager,
for god's sake, Stevens was,
who rose above
actuarial tables, a poet
with a profession
not professor or drinker,
a vice president
of the Hartford Accident
and Indemnity Company.
The subject of work is a noble one
if you are fence mender or
labor in factory or fields.
But what about us
vice presidents?
Don't you want to know
how we nounify the word 'spend',
verbify 'vision' and score big
on the metaphor meter:
we carry the ball and bury the competition
while picking low-hanging fruit and putting
people through their paces.
The human drama is played out here, too.
Why, Wallace, oh why
no poems that begin:
The secretaries hover about
the copy machine like bees at a hive
awaiting the nectar of the next
annual report.
I ponder this as I
gaze at a thousand sunsets gleaming
in the panes of glass across the street.
Karen
Life's Work
............................... Life, then, is largely a thing
............................... of happens to like, not should.
................................ --Wallace Stevens
An insurance manager,
for god's sake, Stevens was,
who rose above
actuarial tables, a poet
with a profession
not professor or drinker,
a vice president
of the Hartford Accident
and Indemnity Company.
The subject of work is a noble one
if you are fence mender or
labor in factory or fields.
But what about us
vice presidents?
Don't you want to know
how we nounify the word 'spend',
verbify 'vision' and score big
on the metaphor meter:
we carry the ball and bury the competition
while picking low-hanging fruit and putting
people through their paces.
The human drama is played out here, too.
Why, Wallace, oh why
no poems that begin:
The secretaries hover about
the copy machine like bees at a hive
awaiting the nectar of the next
annual report.
I ponder this as I
gaze at a thousand sunsets gleaming
in the panes of glass across the street.
Karen
Thursday, 9 August 2007
Thank You Coast Liners
A big thank you to the poetry readers for last Saturday. It was a relaxed and happy afternoon. And, you all performed with aplomb and surprised Jane Clifton, because you happy clever poets you can write and perform.
Last meeting was a delight. There we were and the librarian had to ask us to vacate the room at 1.00 pm for another meeting.
Also applause for Tricia's poem where she not delivered well, but had much humour and it was all from her heart. Honest and funny. The audience loved it. Tricia you are changing as we watch. Look out world!
Geoffrey loved the selection of yours and Junes and so glad you did 'Cicada'. Again the mice poem put a happy smile on faces out there. I was watching the people not the mice.
Suzanne so polished in what you write and how you deliver. Reckon we could get some lessons there.Always a pleasure to hear you read.
I reckon mum and grandson hauled in somewhat at the last minute took to the floor easily. Mum, Ruth will try and come to more meetings, but she is often at different medical people.
Next meeting September 5 Wednesday and was the homework I think was about a poem about an occupation. Correct me if I am wrong. Otherwise just bring along whatever you are writing.
Thanks again
Cecilia
Last meeting was a delight. There we were and the librarian had to ask us to vacate the room at 1.00 pm for another meeting.
Also applause for Tricia's poem where she not delivered well, but had much humour and it was all from her heart. Honest and funny. The audience loved it. Tricia you are changing as we watch. Look out world!
Geoffrey loved the selection of yours and Junes and so glad you did 'Cicada'. Again the mice poem put a happy smile on faces out there. I was watching the people not the mice.
Suzanne so polished in what you write and how you deliver. Reckon we could get some lessons there.Always a pleasure to hear you read.
I reckon mum and grandson hauled in somewhat at the last minute took to the floor easily. Mum, Ruth will try and come to more meetings, but she is often at different medical people.
Next meeting September 5 Wednesday and was the homework I think was about a poem about an occupation. Correct me if I am wrong. Otherwise just bring along whatever you are writing.
Thanks again
Cecilia
Saturday, 4 August 2007
Lost Money
Hi everyone,
At last Wednesday's workshop I found some money on the floor near where Annetine was sitting. If it doesn't belong to anyone I'll ask the library if anyone has lost money. If not claimed we could put it in the Coastlines "kitty". My phone number is 9533 4134.
Jacqui
At last Wednesday's workshop I found some money on the floor near where Annetine was sitting. If it doesn't belong to anyone I'll ask the library if anyone has lost money. If not claimed we could put it in the Coastlines "kitty". My phone number is 9533 4134.
Jacqui
Sunday, 29 July 2007
ON THE BLOG
Hi everyone,
I am finally joining you all in the blog shop. Really enjoyed the workshop on Saturday and will see you all on Wednesday. Hope to create something by then!!
Jacqui
I am finally joining you all in the blog shop. Really enjoyed the workshop on Saturday and will see you all on Wednesday. Hope to create something by then!!
Jacqui
Friday, 13 July 2007
Brrrrr just landed from Tropical Queensland
Tricia I can see how you have modified and worked on your poem. Will give some thought to the poem when I have adjusted back here. Have been in Port Douglas and enjoyed the idea of doing nothing. In fact, it is the best piece I have done all year. Back to the poem. You have made the poem much stronger and I can understand your need for the poem to speak to society at large. I respect and admire the love and energy that come through your words.
And if anyone has the last week edition of The Bayside Leader, Brighton library had sent me an email saying that their was an article on Myron and the forthcoming workshop. So grab a hold of a copy and have a read. Can someone bring me a copy of the article as I have not got last weeks paper. We should get a few more bookings from the PR.
So look forward to seeing you all on the 21 July at 1.30pm.
Cecilia
And if anyone has the last week edition of The Bayside Leader, Brighton library had sent me an email saying that their was an article on Myron and the forthcoming workshop. So grab a hold of a copy and have a read. Can someone bring me a copy of the article as I have not got last weeks paper. We should get a few more bookings from the PR.
So look forward to seeing you all on the 21 July at 1.30pm.
Cecilia
Monday, 9 July 2007
Too Soon Dead
Have spent a lot of time on this piece, am not yet happy with it and would welcome any comments. I began these pieces, yes there are more, with a view to making them accessible to those who may not be comfortable with poetry. I am trying for a simplicity or ease of access for all, not just lovers of poetry. Too much to ask? only time will tell. I find I still want to try to hold onto the rhyme as for me it has a rhythm and resonance, but as I said all comments gratefully appreciated.
Too Soon Dead
A young man died the other day,
only a drug addict some would say,
no comprehension of the battle that rages
lives destroyed in agonising stages.
Picture this man as a little tyke
taking his first steps, riding his first bike,
a wealth of potential beginning to bud
yet the seed of addiction may already flow in his blood.
There are smokers and alcoholics in his family tree,
a history of depression, to name only three
genetic components that may warn of the danger,
a loving young man could become a glassy eyed stranger.
Glimpses of sorrow buried deep in his soul
with the death of a loved one become a gaping black hole;
what began as experimentation becomes a means to escape
the pain and turmoil of his bottomless lake.
Chasing the dragon becomes the focus of each day
but the dragon isn’t chased - he is leading the way
to destruction and death with his nectar for need,
humanity assists with their judgement and greed.
“Drug addicts are weak” a common refrain,
no problem is solved by apportioning blame.
Addiction doesn’t discriminate, sidles up to any door
insidious epidemic, miss-diagnosed as war,
erroneous perceptions keep the beast fed,
Some addicts break away, others too soon dead.
Tricia
Too Soon Dead
A young man died the other day,
only a drug addict some would say,
no comprehension of the battle that rages
lives destroyed in agonising stages.
Picture this man as a little tyke
taking his first steps, riding his first bike,
a wealth of potential beginning to bud
yet the seed of addiction may already flow in his blood.
There are smokers and alcoholics in his family tree,
a history of depression, to name only three
genetic components that may warn of the danger,
a loving young man could become a glassy eyed stranger.
Glimpses of sorrow buried deep in his soul
with the death of a loved one become a gaping black hole;
what began as experimentation becomes a means to escape
the pain and turmoil of his bottomless lake.
Chasing the dragon becomes the focus of each day
but the dragon isn’t chased - he is leading the way
to destruction and death with his nectar for need,
humanity assists with their judgement and greed.
“Drug addicts are weak” a common refrain,
no problem is solved by apportioning blame.
Addiction doesn’t discriminate, sidles up to any door
insidious epidemic, miss-diagnosed as war,
erroneous perceptions keep the beast fed,
Some addicts break away, others too soon dead.
Tricia
Sunday, 1 July 2007
Crow's Revenge
Thank you very much Cecilia and Suzanne for your encouraging comments on Crow. I do have some negative criticism to report though.The other day I found a relation of my late glossy friend busy stripping the rubber from my car's wipers. When I protested about this gratuitous vandalism his response was to empty his bowels all over the bonnet. I take this to be a warning against writing anything more about crows, living or dead.
Suzanne, I've been thinking about your beautiful and profound "Bride Discards her Veil" and I wonder if there may not be two (or more?) poems entwined within it, maybe one on the frustration of blocked inspiration and another on the complexities of Self. Personally, if we have time at our next meeting I'd love to hear you read it again, and to talk about it some more. I have had a go at restructuring and pruning the poem myself but I fear that I may have butchered it in the process. ( That's generally what happens when I prune something!) Anyway, I'll bring my draft along for you to read on Wednesday - hopefully it will be of some help.
Sandra, I thought that your poem about mother and daughter summed up that touching yet sad relationship very aptly, especially the last few lines.
Did anyone else hear the beautiful performance of Mahler's Song of the Earth on ABC FM this morning? (Chinese poems translated into German and then set to music by Mahler.)
Suzanne, I've been thinking about your beautiful and profound "Bride Discards her Veil" and I wonder if there may not be two (or more?) poems entwined within it, maybe one on the frustration of blocked inspiration and another on the complexities of Self. Personally, if we have time at our next meeting I'd love to hear you read it again, and to talk about it some more. I have had a go at restructuring and pruning the poem myself but I fear that I may have butchered it in the process. ( That's generally what happens when I prune something!) Anyway, I'll bring my draft along for you to read on Wednesday - hopefully it will be of some help.
Sandra, I thought that your poem about mother and daughter summed up that touching yet sad relationship very aptly, especially the last few lines.
Did anyone else hear the beautiful performance of Mahler's Song of the Earth on ABC FM this morning? (Chinese poems translated into German and then set to music by Mahler.)
Monday, 25 June 2007
Poem from Sandra
DEVOTION
Single daughter
past her prime
shepherding
shielding
protecting,
guiding
by the soft hand on the bony elbow
the Mother
stooped low,
Pigeon-toed in sensible shoes
once crystal sharp mind
now fading at the edges
but still
still out and about
together
lightly touching the world
their inseparable lives
lived behind lace curtains
comforting rituals
tea at 8
chops at 6
telly till 10
Each born for the other
One born for the other
One invariably left
Sandra Lanteri (c)2007
Sandra can read our blog but at present cannot find a way to post a blog. So this is Cecilia's attempt to post Sandra's poem on the blog. Tricia you have finally hopefully, trusting, sincerely, etc got the poem.
Cecilia
Single daughter
past her prime
shepherding
shielding
protecting,
guiding
by the soft hand on the bony elbow
the Mother
stooped low,
Pigeon-toed in sensible shoes
once crystal sharp mind
now fading at the edges
but still
still out and about
together
lightly touching the world
their inseparable lives
lived behind lace curtains
comforting rituals
tea at 8
chops at 6
telly till 10
Each born for the other
One born for the other
One invariably left
Sandra Lanteri (c)2007
Sandra can read our blog but at present cannot find a way to post a blog. So this is Cecilia's attempt to post Sandra's poem on the blog. Tricia you have finally hopefully, trusting, sincerely, etc got the poem.
Cecilia
Friday, 22 June 2007
Just checking I still can
Am blogging today just to prove to myself that I still can. Read this wonderful quote from Woody Allen and it resonated with me, in my battle with my first blog.
"I have not idea what I am doing, but incompetence has never prevented me from plunging in with enthusiasm."
I have just returned from two weeks in sunny Brisbane. While there and in holiday mode I treated myself to the new book of poetry by David Malouf, Typewriter Music; worth every cent of the $29.95 price tag.
Tricia
"I have not idea what I am doing, but incompetence has never prevented me from plunging in with enthusiasm."
I have just returned from two weeks in sunny Brisbane. While there and in holiday mode I treated myself to the new book of poetry by David Malouf, Typewriter Music; worth every cent of the $29.95 price tag.
Tricia
Sunday, 17 June 2007
THE BLOODY BRIDE DISCARDS HER VEIL!!!
That's how I feel after trying to get this blog up three times and somehow losing it. Hopefully this time. Thanks Karen for your support. And for doing the Vic Writers thing.
Geoffrey, I absolutely love your poem ; it has come up superbly.
Herewith 'The Bride....'
A poet friend had this to say about it recently - which you might find helpful.
'Don't be dispirited about your poem. I find it amazingly rich and I certainly think it has reach beyond yourself. The crunch lines seem to be about living in your husband's shadow and finding your own sweet air. I often put these decisive questions in my own poems and find people don't like them but I do think there is a place for the definitive as distinct from the evocative. The essentail dilemma is one I have often pondered - we need "the other" to really know ourselves but the other also inhibits and restricts us. How to live positively within and beyond these restrictions.'
Her comment helped me see that I am trying to write about retaining my creativity, ie, true self, within the restrictions of a relationship eg. my well has dried up/words drowned in cracked mud/how to shine, etc.
I've reworked it some more since our last workshop but this is the original. All suggestions appreciated.
ORIGINAL: A BRIDE DISCARDS HER VEIL MID-FLIGHT
The drought drags on. The country burns. Heat eats the colour from Arkley gardens, ivy strangles the banksia in the park and frangipanis flower too soon, confused.
My well has dried up. Words drowned in cracked mud.
Nothing except thoughts cut with razors, bloodied with love.
Late in the day a shabby sky threatens and wind whips a warning: hot rain sizzles on asphalt and teases parched earth. A pomegranate moon labours over the bay, heavy with ash from fires far away. The night sea shivers the skin of the deep: all this underneath.
I dream of a house with internal glass walls, a Louis chair, tasselled drapes, a hand-painted chest full of Manolo shoes: Marie Antoinette, celluloid queen. In the morning secret words forming, the poetry of dawn, voices calling: Let go. Let go. Let the little girl dance.
The empty beach.
A boat with one sail.
A lone pelican.
To the cliff where pink clouds wait with welcoming arms. To the cliff where my parachute fills with purple air, the pleasure. To the cliff where stairs lead down to soft sand and there is no need to leap.
So much that can’t be said.
So much mute suffering.
So many false beginnings.
.
Virginia said: But when the self speaks to the self, who is speaking? The entombed soul, the spirit driven in, in, in to the catacomb; the self that took the veil and left the world – a coward perhaps, yet somehow beautiful, as it flits with its lantern restlessly up and down the dark corridors.
To the cliff where stairs lead down, where under the bower of a Kurrajong branch weighed down with pink flowers, a bride discards her veil mid-flight.
Marriage is meant to be more than a moon and circling star.
How to shine in his shadow? How to find my own sweet air?
After the Kurrajong flowers, prickly-haired pods protect the new seed.
After the pelican mates, the myth of a mother’s piety.
After the butterfly dies, goodbye hara kiri (said softly, softly), goodbye.
Said softly, softly: Let go. Let go. Let the little girl dance.
Smoke veils the setting sun, a slash of red, a severed limb.
In the half light, I water the garden. The cat rolls on dead grass, lavishly, lushly. I take secateurs and cut suckers from the flowering peach.
I listen to the whispering night.
Suzanne McCourt, January, 2007
Geoffrey, I absolutely love your poem ; it has come up superbly.
Herewith 'The Bride....'
A poet friend had this to say about it recently - which you might find helpful.
'Don't be dispirited about your poem. I find it amazingly rich and I certainly think it has reach beyond yourself. The crunch lines seem to be about living in your husband's shadow and finding your own sweet air. I often put these decisive questions in my own poems and find people don't like them but I do think there is a place for the definitive as distinct from the evocative. The essentail dilemma is one I have often pondered - we need "the other" to really know ourselves but the other also inhibits and restricts us. How to live positively within and beyond these restrictions.'
Her comment helped me see that I am trying to write about retaining my creativity, ie, true self, within the restrictions of a relationship eg. my well has dried up/words drowned in cracked mud/how to shine, etc.
I've reworked it some more since our last workshop but this is the original. All suggestions appreciated.
ORIGINAL: A BRIDE DISCARDS HER VEIL MID-FLIGHT
The drought drags on. The country burns. Heat eats the colour from Arkley gardens, ivy strangles the banksia in the park and frangipanis flower too soon, confused.
My well has dried up. Words drowned in cracked mud.
Nothing except thoughts cut with razors, bloodied with love.
Late in the day a shabby sky threatens and wind whips a warning: hot rain sizzles on asphalt and teases parched earth. A pomegranate moon labours over the bay, heavy with ash from fires far away. The night sea shivers the skin of the deep: all this underneath.
I dream of a house with internal glass walls, a Louis chair, tasselled drapes, a hand-painted chest full of Manolo shoes: Marie Antoinette, celluloid queen. In the morning secret words forming, the poetry of dawn, voices calling: Let go. Let go. Let the little girl dance.
The empty beach.
A boat with one sail.
A lone pelican.
To the cliff where pink clouds wait with welcoming arms. To the cliff where my parachute fills with purple air, the pleasure. To the cliff where stairs lead down to soft sand and there is no need to leap.
So much that can’t be said.
So much mute suffering.
So many false beginnings.
.
Virginia said: But when the self speaks to the self, who is speaking? The entombed soul, the spirit driven in, in, in to the catacomb; the self that took the veil and left the world – a coward perhaps, yet somehow beautiful, as it flits with its lantern restlessly up and down the dark corridors.
To the cliff where stairs lead down, where under the bower of a Kurrajong branch weighed down with pink flowers, a bride discards her veil mid-flight.
Marriage is meant to be more than a moon and circling star.
How to shine in his shadow? How to find my own sweet air?
After the Kurrajong flowers, prickly-haired pods protect the new seed.
After the pelican mates, the myth of a mother’s piety.
After the butterfly dies, goodbye hara kiri (said softly, softly), goodbye.
Said softly, softly: Let go. Let go. Let the little girl dance.
Smoke veils the setting sun, a slash of red, a severed limb.
In the half light, I water the garden. The cat rolls on dead grass, lavishly, lushly. I take secateurs and cut suckers from the flowering peach.
I listen to the whispering night.
Suzanne McCourt, January, 2007
Tuesday, 12 June 2007
proud of that sublime three words 'never giving in'
Well, this is exciting. The poem revised from Geoffrey stunning. Have proudly let my interstate guests, one of which is an English Master at some posh school, look and read the poem. They were impressed as well they should be. Well done, poet.
And, then gladly read of all those events that as Karen wrote, do sometimes clash with our own workshop, but we have such a lot going on in Melbourne. Thanks Karen for bringing all this to the attention of Coast Line members.
And, of course so happy to know that Tricia is now locked into the blog and is posting. It is so difficult when the whole mind map of this technology is so 'foreign' but once you master it, a good feeling comes about.
What is happening to Annetine, will ring her and see if she is still unable which it looks like to get into our blog.
Have emailed Myron and told him we have 11 enrolments and more to come. So if you want to invite someone please do, but remember they need to go to the library enrol and pay there. Although they may also do this by phone and credit card. Great time of the year to have a workshop. Would you all like me to bring some red wine?
Enjoy the delights of winter, cosiness, reading, writing and hot casseroles. See you all next meeting. Happy poetry writing.
Cecilia
And, then gladly read of all those events that as Karen wrote, do sometimes clash with our own workshop, but we have such a lot going on in Melbourne. Thanks Karen for bringing all this to the attention of Coast Line members.
And, of course so happy to know that Tricia is now locked into the blog and is posting. It is so difficult when the whole mind map of this technology is so 'foreign' but once you master it, a good feeling comes about.
What is happening to Annetine, will ring her and see if she is still unable which it looks like to get into our blog.
Have emailed Myron and told him we have 11 enrolments and more to come. So if you want to invite someone please do, but remember they need to go to the library enrol and pay there. Although they may also do this by phone and credit card. Great time of the year to have a workshop. Would you all like me to bring some red wine?
Enjoy the delights of winter, cosiness, reading, writing and hot casseroles. See you all next meeting. Happy poetry writing.
Cecilia
Monday, 11 June 2007
Victorian Writers' Centre
If you are not a member, consider joining! Suzanne brought the latest issue of their magazine to our group's most recent meeting and highlighted all the Calls for Submissions that are listed at the back. In addition, there's lots of information on writers' events, craft tips, etc. The Centre also offers various courses and workshops. Go to www.writers-centre.org for more information.
I just received several flyers from them on upcoming events:
June 30: "The Long and the Short of it" Regional Victorian Writers Festival, cost $20, panel discussions emphasize the publishing aspect. www.robbineal.com (Go to the right of the screen & click on Writers Festival)
July 20-22: The Screenwriter's Journey. www.thescreenwritersjourney.com
July 19-22: Mildura Writers' Festival. www.mwaf.com.au
Don't forget though that these last two conflict with our Lysenko workshop on July 21.
I just received several flyers from them on upcoming events:
June 30: "The Long and the Short of it" Regional Victorian Writers Festival, cost $20, panel discussions emphasize the publishing aspect. www.robbineal.com (Go to the right of the screen & click on Writers Festival)
July 20-22: The Screenwriter's Journey. www.thescreenwritersjourney.com
July 19-22: Mildura Writers' Festival. www.mwaf.com.au
Don't forget though that these last two conflict with our Lysenko workshop on July 21.
Friday, 8 June 2007
Eureka
Computer said "you're not a member"
Each time I tried to access Coastlines blog
"Oh yes I am" said I with feeling
Refusing to give into technology fog
Help and dummy spits got me through
Thought the occasion deserved a rhyme
The help - Cecilia and Karen
The dummy spits - sadly mine
Tricia 6/07
Each time I tried to access Coastlines blog
"Oh yes I am" said I with feeling
Refusing to give into technology fog
Help and dummy spits got me through
Thought the occasion deserved a rhyme
The help - Cecilia and Karen
The dummy spits - sadly mine
Tricia 6/07
Thursday, 7 June 2007
technology and frustration - a great wedding
Now all those of you who have tried to enter a post, I have invited you again to be able to write in here and if this does not bring success do ring Karen who is happy to guide you there whilst you sit at home with the keyboard in front of you. Karen
is going away Monday week for a couple of months so do it now before she leaves.
As I said she is a willing helper.
Geoffrey loved the revised edition of the 'Crow'. It is a stunning poem and one worthy of publishing. So submit once you join Victorian Writers Centre you will have a list of where you can send this gem to.
Glad that you can at least access the blog. But we will all make it. Persistance is the theme word and maybe could be a starting word for a poem
Cecilia
is going away Monday week for a couple of months so do it now before she leaves.
As I said she is a willing helper.
Geoffrey loved the revised edition of the 'Crow'. It is a stunning poem and one worthy of publishing. So submit once you join Victorian Writers Centre you will have a list of where you can send this gem to.
Glad that you can at least access the blog. But we will all make it. Persistance is the theme word and maybe could be a starting word for a poem
Cecilia
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
CROW (Revised Version!)
Amongst morning’s yellow fragments, scattered on the leaves,
A whisper of feathers, soft and sharp.
Then a coarse, scraping cry,
From a black skull upraised against the light.
Crow - clutching at our fence with claws of coal, screaming against the wind!
I curse your black presence in our garden:
eviscerater, eye – gouger,
dragger of roadside guts, guzzler of dried vomit,
Death’s glossy dancing partner!
I snatch at a stone – but you are off, launching yourself
in a scruffy clump: feathers, bone, skin and cry
all re - forming in the air, as thrashing wings whack against the wind
and haul you to a safe tree.
Clumsily you flap off, knowing the ways of men.
And I, arm half raised, left foolish.
At night I find you: an abandoned standard,
wings imperiously outstretched;
your claws sunk into a shallow breeze
that stirs each feather mockingly;
in your spent eyes the glitter of stars.
Whoever brought your death,
the guilt is mine.
Geoffrey Dobbs
6/6/07
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
How to Become an Author on This Blog
Members of the group will all receive emails today from "Cecilia" inviting you to contribute to the blog. The email will say "To join this blog as an author, accept the invitation by signing in with your Google Account below."
If you have a Google Account, put in your Username and Password.
It is more likely that you don't have a Google Account. In this case click the link that says "Create your account now"
You will be taken to another page called "Create a Google Account." Here you will be asked to input a few items. Follow the instructions listed in the right-hand column of the page. You will need to put in your email address and a password. The password can be the same as the one you use to access your email or it can be different. But this will be the Username and Password that will allow you to access CoastLines as an author in the future.
Display name is what you want listed under a post that you have created. It can be your first name (as Cecilia and I have done) or anything else. Just something so that the rest of the group can know who is writing what.
A word verification box asks for you to type what you see in the box. This is a security thing just so they know a real person and not a computer spammer is inputting the information. Type the word, then click the Acceptance of Terms then Continue.
You will be taken to the Dashboard for CoastLines. Here you can click View Blog at the top to see the current blog, or, if you have something you would like to post, click New Post up in the left hand part of the page. Then you will be provided a box for a title and a copy box. When you are finished with your post, click Publish Post and then your post will be up on the CoastLines site.
I'll be available tomorrow at our meeting to answer questions and hand out some supporting material. Give it a try!
If you have a Google Account, put in your Username and Password.
It is more likely that you don't have a Google Account. In this case click the link that says "Create your account now"
You will be taken to another page called "Create a Google Account." Here you will be asked to input a few items. Follow the instructions listed in the right-hand column of the page. You will need to put in your email address and a password. The password can be the same as the one you use to access your email or it can be different. But this will be the Username and Password that will allow you to access CoastLines as an author in the future.
Display name is what you want listed under a post that you have created. It can be your first name (as Cecilia and I have done) or anything else. Just something so that the rest of the group can know who is writing what.
A word verification box asks for you to type what you see in the box. This is a security thing just so they know a real person and not a computer spammer is inputting the information. Type the word, then click the Acceptance of Terms then Continue.
You will be taken to the Dashboard for CoastLines. Here you can click View Blog at the top to see the current blog, or, if you have something you would like to post, click New Post up in the left hand part of the page. Then you will be provided a box for a title and a copy box. When you are finished with your post, click Publish Post and then your post will be up on the CoastLines site.
I'll be available tomorrow at our meeting to answer questions and hand out some supporting material. Give it a try!
Thursday, 31 May 2007
Events you may like to know about
Here are two interesting forthcoming events.
Janet Turner Hospital (author) at the Readers Festival Swanston Street next Wednesday 6 June at 6.30 pm. $6.00 Bookings essential. Telephone 96624699.
And if you are interested in going I certainly am, so let me know. Probably will go in by train. Have a new car and too nervous to drive it as yet. As well as the minute I drove it out of the showroom the rain started. So Victoria/Melbourne can thank me.
The other event is one you don't have to leave for home for, 'All in the Mind' Ration National with Matasha Mitchell. All about neuroscience and creativity and author Sue Wolfe will be talking about writers who sit in their rooms and what happens in their minds whilst creating. It can be heard Saturday 2 June or Monday 4th June will be repeated.
I think this is going to be worthwhile - a discussion on the creative process.
See you all next week. PR should be out next week for Myron's workshop.
Cecilia
Janet Turner Hospital (author) at the Readers Festival Swanston Street next Wednesday 6 June at 6.30 pm. $6.00 Bookings essential. Telephone 96624699.
And if you are interested in going I certainly am, so let me know. Probably will go in by train. Have a new car and too nervous to drive it as yet. As well as the minute I drove it out of the showroom the rain started. So Victoria/Melbourne can thank me.
The other event is one you don't have to leave for home for, 'All in the Mind' Ration National with Matasha Mitchell. All about neuroscience and creativity and author Sue Wolfe will be talking about writers who sit in their rooms and what happens in their minds whilst creating. It can be heard Saturday 2 June or Monday 4th June will be repeated.
I think this is going to be worthwhile - a discussion on the creative process.
See you all next week. PR should be out next week for Myron's workshop.
Cecilia
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
waiting to hear from those writers out there.
Hi All,
Now where are the comments, updates, things of interest, poetry or weather report from you. As Karen said, don't be shy let's hear from you.
There is a writers workshop at Woodend in June 9, 10, 11. I would have gone to some of the sessions they look interesting. But will be entertaining visitors over this long weekend. However will now find the web address and you can read all about it. In the meantime you might try just looking for writers workshops Woodend probably you will get there before I get back to you.
I am away for a few days. However will be taking notepaper and pen and adding some more words for our next meeting which is soon. In fact Wednesday June 6th so will see then. Don't forget workshop July 21 for Myron and bring along the booking fee to pay to the library. The huge amount of $15 and if others want to come along then book them in as well. So far I have 3 others who want to come along and the library will field more.
Here is a poem from the Poet Laurette of America.
White Apples
when my father had been dead a week
I woke
with his voice in my ear
I sat up in bed
and held my breath
and stared at the pale closed door
white apples and the taste of stone
if he called again
I would put on my coat and galoshes
Modern poetry at its best. Sparse, economic, the layout so telling and emotional without being sentimental.
Hoorah the rain has come for the farmers...and on that note
happy writing
Cecilia
Now where are the comments, updates, things of interest, poetry or weather report from you. As Karen said, don't be shy let's hear from you.
There is a writers workshop at Woodend in June 9, 10, 11. I would have gone to some of the sessions they look interesting. But will be entertaining visitors over this long weekend. However will now find the web address and you can read all about it. In the meantime you might try just looking for writers workshops Woodend probably you will get there before I get back to you.
I am away for a few days. However will be taking notepaper and pen and adding some more words for our next meeting which is soon. In fact Wednesday June 6th so will see then. Don't forget workshop July 21 for Myron and bring along the booking fee to pay to the library. The huge amount of $15 and if others want to come along then book them in as well. So far I have 3 others who want to come along and the library will field more.
Here is a poem from the Poet Laurette of America.
White Apples
when my father had been dead a week
I woke
with his voice in my ear
I sat up in bed
and held my breath
and stared at the pale closed door
white apples and the taste of stone
if he called again
I would put on my coat and galoshes
Modern poetry at its best. Sparse, economic, the layout so telling and emotional without being sentimental.
Hoorah the rain has come for the farmers...and on that note
happy writing
Cecilia
Friday, 18 May 2007
Emerging Writers' Festival
There's another writing festival during the last weekend in May. Go to www.emergingwritersfestival.org.au for more information! Unfortunately, I will be out of town! But, fortunately, I will be out of town! (Port Douglas, vacationing)
Thursday, 17 May 2007
fantastic workshop in June at Woodend.
http://www.collieroffice.com.au/wwaf/2007event/2007LiteraryEvents.htm
If you log onto this site you can see how stimulating this workshop will be. I certainly would go, but bother we have interstate guests staying with us over those three days. I have been many years ago and really enjoyed it, but forgot in planning this year the dates. BOO HOO.
Cecilia
If you log onto this site you can see how stimulating this workshop will be. I certainly would go, but bother we have interstate guests staying with us over those three days. I have been many years ago and really enjoyed it, but forgot in planning this year the dates. BOO HOO.
Cecilia
first time user
So excited I have managed to get in this blog without the usual post traumatic trauma which sets in whenever faced with new techno. Yesterday was giving my mum who is also a poet a go at looking at this blog. And at 86 was wonderful seeing how happy she can accommodate new things.
Anyway enough of that. Simply a warm up to the last discussion I had with Myron. He has been kind enough to say that members of CoastLines pay $15 and outsiders, the general public pay $20. I said it mightn't cover his costs. And he said oh that is okay. So next meeting if you would like to attend this great workshop can you bring along $15 (perferably in cash) so that I can give this to Myron. And that will ensure you have a place in the workshop. The library PR person Dawn will do a flyer which will be displayed in Bayside libraries. So I think we might get a full house at 20 people and after that we will be filled.
I am looking forward to this workshop. Myron is highly skilled at running them and has run them from small numbers to large numbers. He is engaging and will give us plenty of ideas to go forward with in our writing.
I have already taken two bookings. One, you guessed it mum, and one a fellow short story writer who loves words. So if you have anyone you think might be interested let them know and either you take their booking or they can ring Brighton library who will be set up to take bookings.
Happy writing.
Endeavouring to be poetic
Cecilia
Anyway enough of that. Simply a warm up to the last discussion I had with Myron. He has been kind enough to say that members of CoastLines pay $15 and outsiders, the general public pay $20. I said it mightn't cover his costs. And he said oh that is okay. So next meeting if you would like to attend this great workshop can you bring along $15 (perferably in cash) so that I can give this to Myron. And that will ensure you have a place in the workshop. The library PR person Dawn will do a flyer which will be displayed in Bayside libraries. So I think we might get a full house at 20 people and after that we will be filled.
I am looking forward to this workshop. Myron is highly skilled at running them and has run them from small numbers to large numbers. He is engaging and will give us plenty of ideas to go forward with in our writing.
I have already taken two bookings. One, you guessed it mum, and one a fellow short story writer who loves words. So if you have anyone you think might be interested let them know and either you take their booking or they can ring Brighton library who will be set up to take bookings.
Happy writing.
Endeavouring to be poetic
Cecilia
Wednesday, 16 May 2007
Making Poetry by Anne Stevenson
Making Poetry
‘You have to inhabit poetry
if you want to make it.’
And what’s ‘to inhabit?’
To be in the habit of, to wear
words, sitting in the plainest light,
in the silk of morning, in the shoe of night;
a feeling bare and frondish in surprising air;
familiar. . . rare.
And what’s ‘to make?’
To be and to become words’ passing
weather; to serve a girl on terrible terms,
embark on voyages over voices,
evade the ego-hill, the misery-well,
the siren hiss of publish, success, publish,
success, success, success.
And why inhabit, make, inherit poetry?
Oh, it’s the shared comedy of the worst
blessed; the sound leading the hand;
a wordlife running from mind to mind
through the washed rooms of the simple senses;
one of those haunted, undefendable, unpoetic
crosses we have to find.
(Collected Poems, 101)
Thanks to Tricia for sharing this poem.
‘You have to inhabit poetry
if you want to make it.’
And what’s ‘to inhabit?’
To be in the habit of, to wear
words, sitting in the plainest light,
in the silk of morning, in the shoe of night;
a feeling bare and frondish in surprising air;
familiar. . . rare.
And what’s ‘to make?’
To be and to become words’ passing
weather; to serve a girl on terrible terms,
embark on voyages over voices,
evade the ego-hill, the misery-well,
the siren hiss of publish, success, publish,
success, success, success.
And why inhabit, make, inherit poetry?
Oh, it’s the shared comedy of the worst
blessed; the sound leading the hand;
a wordlife running from mind to mind
through the washed rooms of the simple senses;
one of those haunted, undefendable, unpoetic
crosses we have to find.
(Collected Poems, 101)
Thanks to Tricia for sharing this poem.
Tuesday, 15 May 2007
exciting workshop in July for Coastliners
Hi all,
On Saturday 21 July from 1.30pm to 4.30pm Myron Lysenko will be running a workshop for us at a nominal cost of $20. The library will provide tea, coffee and cake. It will be held in the library and will be great because he is not only a superb and award winning poet but much accomplished at doing workshops.
On Saturday 21 July from 1.30pm to 4.30pm Myron Lysenko will be running a workshop for us at a nominal cost of $20. The library will provide tea, coffee and cake. It will be held in the library and will be great because he is not only a superb and award winning poet but much accomplished at doing workshops.
Welcome to CoastLines
This is our blog, the members of the poetry workshop meeting at the Brighton Library. For the time being, this is a private blog, with the members as authors and viewers. When we feel comfortable with it, we can make it public. In today's session, we decided this would be a good place to share ideas, knowledge about upcoming writing events, and whatever else our hearts desire. Post poems, if you like!Once you sign in to the site, click on new post and write away. Or comment on someone else's post. If you have questions, contact Cecilia or Karen.
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