Poetry : Wed 9th Aug
I got into an interesting conversation with a couple in the Pleasance Bar last night - they asked me how the inspiration to write a poem came to me. I had to stop and think about it. The short answer is, 'I just feel a poem coming on'. That evening was a good example of the different ways that can happen - the conversation I had with them developed over time, and the feeling that resulted in the poem they inspired came on gradually
And the worlds within our hearts and minds open up
And the walls within us gradually fall
As the levels of the beer in our glasses goes down
As we relax in a bar down town.
So why not have just one glass of beer at every meal,
To bring down the walls that stop us saying what we feel?
And even if that's not what we really want to hear,
There's surely better fodder for debate in there!
But if one glass leads to two or three or more,
With the lack of walls, debate can lead to war.
But that's no reason to ban drinking altogether
For it helps us to be free in speech, thought and expression.
Not that we ever got into an argument - it was pretty peaceful really - the experience just sparked a sequence of thoughts which came together gradually over time. The next poem came in a flash of inspiration - a moment of intense realisation or appreciation of something poetic - in this case, the way a guy a couple of tables away stopping in the very act of lifting his fork to his mouth to listen to what someone else around his table had to say.
Formed in the sense-bound mind, poised
Between conversation and delectation,
The angle of the dip of fork tines on a plate;
Their passage through the air at a certain rate;
Their sometime pauses, hovering in the air
Between mouth and plate suspended, while the flair
Of the speakers keeps conversation going -
Fast eaters, slow movers, raconteurs, balanced musers -
The timing of a mouthful - poetry in motion -
Instinctual dance - primal, ephemeral,
Intuitive, transitorily beautiful.
A similar 'flash' of inspiration - the sight of the twinkle of light on a large, square ring on a woman's finger as she lifted her wine glass - inspired the germ of another poem and a continuing exploration of the relationship between jewellery and food, personal adornment and food presentation.
And a square of gold leaf on a Tudor pie crust;
A gleaming black dot in a man's ear ring
And a drop of caviar on a slice of cool salmon;
A seductive pendant of deep ruby glass
And a pool of hot sauce nestled on a plate.
The seductive allure of colour, texture, taste.
Sometimes the poems that result are like an unfulfilling meal - they don't satisfy the feeling of 'a poem coming on'. The above is one such - and I set myself the task of trying to get away from the list poem structure, to get deeper into the ideas ... and be more inventive with the similes I could come up with. The process continues - and will no doubt result in an exploration of ideas I am not yet aware of.
The winner of our first daily poetry competition - on the topic of 'Spice' is Sonja Morgenstern, with her poem 'July'. The judge was Andy Williamson, organiser of The Edinburgh Food Festival.
blue sky grass seeds-butterflies,
stroke, touch, hold, caress and fondle,
softly slowly push me force you pull you over let yourself fall into me-
I climb on top of you cover you trail my nails across your skin,
a blade of grass-grass seeds in kisses, tongue tasting summer,
grassy love and tangles-
being held down by long grasses’ grasp across my wrists,
my hair in grass-
grass in my hair my skirt,
the flowers and the stinging nettles-
sweet sting sweet thing, lips on lips and hips on hips, a plane a bird a bee-
how cleverly grassed up they’ll never see.
Roll me love me let me see you touch me,
I look up-all I see is blue sky, your fair hair and your green eyes,
grass and summer butterflies.
S.M. 2005