Month: September 2024

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #6

humanist55

Dear Roberta
Using an AI to make images
can be wondrous,
frustrating, puzzling
and incredible in varying degrees
but sometimes, the sheer beauty
simply makes one gasp…

This last year, both I and many poets I know (in the Internet sense as opposed to the real world or the biblical), have started illustrating their work using AI images whose results are sometimes so stunning as to distract from the poems being illustrated. Yet we poets often work to prompts and we must construct prompts for the AI…

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

Fifty Years in Fifty Minutes

humanist55

Do we wear watches
or surround ourselves with clocks
to rein in our unruly
perception of time passing
“Oh heavens! Just look at the time!”
we say to an old friend
with whom we have been
immersed for fifty years in fifty minutes.

Even battery operated quartz clocks
can produce a metronomic beat
if we listen hard enough
but a pendulum grand father
case clock cannot be beaten –
ticking and tocking
the heartbeat of a house.

On TV The Repair Shop
at its allotted hour
restores treasured items
and the clock maker
is much in demand for –
mantel clocks with chiming mechanisms
corner the market for memories
of loved ones lost since childhood
when they made the soundtrack
of visits to grandparents
uncles and aunts.

Offices with Bauhaus severe wall clocks
Place them where drones can regulate their work
but if the heart isn’t in it
then they offer clock-watchers little solace
because a watched clock stretches time
with the incremental twitch of its hands

Once, clocks marked retirement
condemning the wearer
to pointless hours
with no consolation for being
wrapped in a gold case –
markers of growing up –
making the grade –
tokens of affection…

The utility of timepieces
nearly died with the ubiquity
of mobile phones with which
even children have
a constant time coach
an alarm clock, an egg timer
and a sports stopwatch
tickless and tockless in their pocket
time always on top –
at least they don’t show
the sands of time running out
though doubtless
there is an app for that.

There is now no excuse
not to know the time
broadcast by the network
linked to an atomic clock somewhere
but still a clock cannot control
the flexibility of time in mind
our stretching it out
in the instant of a crash
our inability to slow it
in the minutes before parting
the long minutes as medics
attempt resuscitation
before a doctor finally calls time.

Time is not always our friend
yet we carry a constant measure of it
in our pockets or strapped to our wrists
for fear of missing out…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night where you can post one poem of your choice – Björn Rudberg (brudberg) is managing the pub for this after returning from his epic hike from the northernmost tip of Sweden to the end of the mountains in the south (1346 km in 53 days)!
This is another poem which is the fruit of my writing group where we were writing “in the shadow of” The Watch by Danusha Laméris

…

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #5

humanist55

Dear Alice
Your name always reminds me
of that Victorian Alice from Oxford
the city where I grew up reading avidly
Lewis Carrol, Tolkien and C.S.Lewis
wo all wrote in my home town.

How do A.I.s make their creativity
– I asked for Alice in Wonderland
at the court of the Red Queen
in the style of Studio Ghibli
directed by Hagao Migazhi
and this confusion of the Caterpillar’s seat
the Mad Hatters Tea Party
and the Red Queen’s Court is the result!
Other Alice’s apply – perhaps your parents
loved the song “My Alice Blue Gown”
whatever the reason for your naming
it is a lovely name…

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

PS I wrote about the song “My Alice Blue Gown” here…

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #4

humanist55

Dear Kay
Oregon, I believe
is a state full of trees
and a child of Oregon
would have no difficulty
visualising the setting for
Little Red Riding Hood
originally written by
the Brothers Grimm of Germany
but repeatedly rewritten and
referenced in book, film and TV.
Even in America
Cordellya Smith of Kentucky
wrote a Native American version
Kawoni’s Journey Across the Mountain
a Cherokee Little Red Riding Hood
the classic tale of a girl in jeopardy
is a warning to children everywhere
against walking in the woods alone
and to watch out for wolves…

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

Down to the Sea Again…

humanist55

People ask if I miss Ireland
but I can travel there anytime
in my mind’s eye
standing on the rocky ledges
three hundred and fifty million years old
as gentle swells roll in from the West
smoothly curved as a reclining breast
no more than eighteen inches high
rising to just below my feet
it looks gentle but one
slightly higher wave
spilling onto the ledge
would take the feet from under me
pluck me into the water
the high tide daring me
to stand so close to the edge
I guess six tons of water
moves within six feet of me
six feet deep and a few million years
of fossil coral reef beneath me
slowly etching back into the world
with every passing swell

I set up my rod and cast
whose first retrieve
snags a bunch of seaweed
with a Pipe Fish
– a straightened cousin
of the Seahorse curling its
tail to cling amongst the fronds
the pollock are running
and I cast my heavy silver Toby again
splashing into the glassy Atlantic water
so clear I can see the bottom
slowly retrieve, pausing, simulating
the rise and fall of a weary baitfish
my lure is about to break the surface
when the Pollock strikes
turning in a thrilling
savage flash of silver
right before me.

I walk my haul back along the ledges
past the place I met the otter
– playing hide and seek
with matching curiosity
for a full twenty minutes
after he slipped into the water
and dived only to resurface
elsewhere to spy on me repeatedly
– until I turned the tables
to crouch out of sight of him
making him the seeker…

Past the lime kiln
dug into the low boulder-clay cliff
now half exposed revealing its
bottle shape – lined with
fire-proof granite boulders
gleaned from its digging out
when was it built and how many
houses did its quicklime mortar
build in turn – perhaps ours…

I file these memories
of sparkling swells
in the most special room
of my Memory Palace
to be visited on dull days
far from the sea
or maybe set down in verse…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024

Over at dVerse Poets Pub,  lillian in Poetics asks us to write to a line from the Mitch Miller song “By the Beautiful Sea“

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #3

humanist55

Dear Jill
The couple on this postcard
were supposed to be a long-haired poet
and a commodity trader
with over their heads, their thoughts floating
but which is which I wonder
this AI offering did not get my vote.

You live close to a great lake
but also near a windy city
and I wonder which
dominates your sense of place
are you a suburb of Chicago
or a separate town in Gurnee?
Does the place you live
influence your poetry
perhaps I’ll get to see
when you reply to me
I would say ‘if’ but I
have my fingers crossed…

P.S. Your card was my second arrival Jill!

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

The Witches of Washington…

humanist55
The image above is from the Los Angeles Times Photographic Collection.

The greatest feat of the Washington Witches Coven was to remain in plain sight as this rare photograph from the 1960’s reveals. Gathered together outside the premises of their leader, a veterinarian by trade, the members of the coven are each accompanied by their witches’ familiars – black cats each and every one of them. In any other age, such an unprecedented number of black cats in one place would undoubtedly have rung alarm bells and resulted in a witch-hunt, but this group of fashionably dressed (for middle-aged women) were merely perceived as slaves to the growing trend of pets as fashionable accessories and their predilection for felines of a noir colouring, merely a fashionable affectation.

Under the election and presidentship of renowned misogynist Donald Trump, the words “witch-hunt” found renewed currency, though not, ironically, in connection with actual witches! By now a little more discreet in their public gatherings, the Washington Coven played their part in fighting the menace of arse-trumpeting but just as all right minded people had been staggered by the election of the great, orange baby, so too, the matrons and even the younger members of the coven had found themselves wrong-footed and at a loss as to how best to combat the orange menace. The audacity of Trump madness fuelling false news such as baby-eating, paedophile rings operating behind Pizza restaurant fronts, beggared belief! By the time the coven were getting their ducks in a row, lining up the most potent spells to use on His Orangeness, he failed to be re-elected and a huge celebration ensued under full moon in the Washington Woods and much debate was had about the extent to which the power of the coven’s spells had contributed to the orange downfall.

But Trump is back, once again riling up his base with the same tired tropes about “draining the Washington swamp” – if only he knew the real powers ranged against him… Go! Black Cats!

This was written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction #FFFC

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #2

humanist55

Dear Colette
Amidst the city reduced to heaps of rubble
revenge for one innocent peoples’
centuries of persecution and trouble
now enacted and exacted on another
a child learns resilience from new life
and wonder turns to hope…


I’m sorry this is such a heavy subject to start the season with but sadly it is the world we live in. I appreciated all your comments on my posts last year and was delighted to find you on my list, Colette – Lots of Love, Andrew

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

Poetry Postcard Fest Follow Up Post 2024 #1

humanist55

Dear Chastity
I write to you seated
at a boulangerie in Boulogne
on the last day of a roadtrip
holiday around northern France.
You are my first PoPoFest
card this year and I must
once again choose a card
for an unknown correspondent
so for this magical moment
I have chosen a Witches Cat
a la mode ‘Steam Punk’
and I hope it finds you well
and equally looking forward
to 31 poems à un étranger…

The Poetry Postcard Fest is a challenge which encourages poets to write an unedited poem on a postcard and send it to a stranger. Organised by the Cascadia Poetics Lab, who organise the participants into lists of 31 + yourself for you to address your offerings to. This was my second year and I was on List 10. The lists are sent out in early July and you have until the end of August to send out your missives – to date I have received 16 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent.
Although the original poem is to be sent as written – crossings out, blots and all, I have typed them out for people who can’t read my writing and I am allowing myself to edit if I feel like it…

Tableau of the Fallen

humanist55

From my writing seat
the window frames the
tableau of yellow leaves
the wisteria
has met with Autumn
too early this year

Did I not water
one crucial day when
wind plucked the water
as surely as sun
drying out the leaves
killing them too soon

Today that same wind
plucks them from the vine
to lie in yellow
drifts upon the ground
the devastation
plucks at my heart too

Do those leaves accuse
me for lack of care
plants grown in a pot
need more vigilance
did I then fail them
like Gaza’s children

Plucked from life too soon
all because Zion
“is mowing the grass”
arms makers making
money from the war
leaders not leading

Have we the people
seeing the tableau
of all the fallen
done enough for those
unlucky to be born
trapped in a pot

They did not choose to
be born in a land
others had decided
they could not share with
had to have it all
to be safe from death

Children of Gaza
lie countless as my
wisteria leaves
accusing me of
not raising my voice
sufficiently yet…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024
Previous poems of protest and images generated in Midjourney…

https://how-would-you-know.com/2024/03/six-questions-from-pablo-neruda.html
https://how-would-you-know.com/2024/08/breaking-news-and-hearts.html

Over at dVerse Poets Pub,  Laura Bloomsbury in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft, marks the birthday of American poet Sam Hamill (1943-2018) of whom she says “Hamill’s poetry is absent on rhyme and heavy on unadulterated lyricism. He talks his poetry to the page as here in “After Morning Rain” which switches between his personal loci and wider, world issues […] Hamill was a poet both in the world and of the world, being the leading light for ‘Poets Against the War’ and still his poetry does not stray far from what he sees, feels and knows directly”.

Laura also asks us to write in the poetry form ‘The Tableau’ created by Emily Romano in 2008:

Poetry Style:

  • 1 or more verses
  • 6 lines per verse
  • 5 beats/syllables per line

Poetry Rules:

no rhyme scheme
title should contain the word ‘tableau’
poem should aim to be pictorial