Monday, December 6, 2010

Tuesday poem: Tackling the day


Some time ago my then writing group dished out half a dozen words at the end of our meeting and we agreed we'd stud a poem with each one - raisins in a pud of our own making. It's the poem I'm posting today, and it feels appropriate as a what... galviniser? - joke? - aspiration? as I stumble to the end of 2010, still ploughing through a ridiculous amount of workatwork, my faith eye on that checkered flag, which should be waving at me on the 17th.
(I'm not sure the compulsory words are readily identifiable, but there are no prizes for correctly guessing one of them.)

Tackling the day

Look at you
Slinking along
Grumbling across the day
With your nose in the falling dark
Before your last foot's
Left home in the morning

By God
Not me mate

There'll be butter and jam
On my bread
At sun up.
I'll devastate crust and crumbs
With a sure jaw
And flashing incisors

I'll take time to kick the rubbish
Where it belongs
Bullseye

I'll spread my shoulders
And pump blood
And draw breath
Like a gale

There'll be no slither
No slits for eyes

You just watch me
I'll show you

I'll show you foreshore.
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5 comments:

  1. Claire BeynonDecember 6, 2010 at 3:30 PM

    You and your words are unique, my friend. This poetry pud is studded with jeweled raisins and I'd be perfectly content to watch you showing us how it's done - 'foreshore'.
    L, C x

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  2. Melissa GreenDecember 7, 2010 at 5:12 PM

    Yes, Pam, you must show us! L, M.

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  3. Elizabeth WelshDecember 7, 2010 at 8:43 PM

    This is such a resolute, strong poem, Pam! I am intrigued as to which words the raisins were, so to speak! Thanks for posting.

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  4. Pam MorrisonDecember 10, 2010 at 8:02 PM

    Thanks Claire and Melissa, o that it were so easy. I think I've only mastered it, whatever it is, as poetic bluff. (But somehow that in itself gives a small amount of oomph! The magic of words.) xx

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  5. Pam MorrisonDecember 10, 2010 at 10:42 PM

    Hi Elizabeth, thanks for coming by, and for your comment. I've been trying to remember the raisins. The ones I recall (I think) are jam, incisor, devastate, grumbling - and foreshore (for sure!). It' quite a fun way to create a poem. And such a fascinating range of end products.

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