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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Dear Julie
Wish you were here is the common cry of the holiday postcard sent to a friend or relative dear but I know nothing about you beyond your evocative address but I send this photo with only a little fear that you will not appreciate the struggle of nature to make this wild garden. An upcycled tyre for a container a Harts Tongue fern a moss garden what’s not to like…
I wish I was allowed to share Julie’s beautiful response to my poem (perhaps she will see this and slip it into the comments) – she had received my card and it turns out that she had been thinking of the recuperative power of nature so no worries there! I cannot say where she lives either beyond naming the evocative address as Thunder Road… I can share the selection of beautiful skies Julie sent and which I am guessing she took herself…
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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Dear Kim I have a grandson who is a rapper and recently dropped a song about the question “Where are you from?” Because the micro-aggression implicit in the loaded question is that your national identity depends on where your ancestors are from and not where you live Nation, State or City. But I like to ask that question to know the many layers that make up a person, present soil and deeper roots I see your name is from Poland? Andrew
Kim wrote about my being British and having a friend who lives near me whose accent she loves to listen to and in response to your question, Kim “Im reet enuff, thanks!” She sent a card of a painting by one of my favourite artists, Gustav Klimt – more famous for his portraits and of course, The Kiss, he only painted landscapes when on holiday…
Time has flown from May to September the Winter of my days heralded by Autumn no Indian summer like some I remember but odd flashes of heat returned in the rollercoaster from May to September floods, fires, heatwaves what a year it’s been a metaphor for my own life’s glowing ember, an ember stolen from the gods wrapped in a leaf and whose life is not by fickle fate encumbered he chained to a rock in punishment for gifting man we tortured or triumphant from May to September.
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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Ghosts
Dear R Do you like ghost stories for that is what you see here the ghosts of Death Notices once tacked to this telegraph pole to tell the community who has passed in the night and where the funeral will be. In Crete during lockdown I saw this post and had to ask a local what it meant – ghosts telegraphing their passing to the world…
Six Degrees of Separation is an excuse to peruse six favourite books linked to an initial offering by our host KateW and eventually link them back to the beginning. Kate W offers us big themes in her choices and since I have been participating, these have included – being adrift in Time, Friendship, Memory, and Romance. This month we have the biographical Wifedom and the theme for me will be that of wives albeit mainly fictional examples – also, three of the books have been adapted for screen…
I have not read Wifedom (as is usually the case with Kate W’s suggestions) but I would like to after reading what Amazon has to say about the book. – At the end of summer 2017, Anna Funder found herself at a moment of peak overload. Family obligations and household responsibilities were crushing her soul and taking her away from her writing deadlines. She needed help, and George Orwell came to her rescue.
“I’ve always loved Orwell,” Funder writes, “his self-deprecating humour, his laser vision about how power works, and who it works on.” So after rereading and savoring books Orwell had written, she devoured six major biographies tracing his life and work. But then she read about his forgotten wife, and it was a revelation.
Eileen O’Shaughnessy married Orwell in 1936. O’Shaughnessy was a writer herself, and her literary brilliance not only shaped Orwell’s work, but her practical common sense saved his life. But why and how, Funder wondered, was she written out of their story? Using newly discovered letters from Eileen to her best friend, Funder re-creates the Orwells’ marriage, through the Spanish Civil War and the Second World War in London. As she peeks behind the curtain of Orwell’s private life she is led to question what it takes to be a writer—and what it is to be a wife.
A breathtakingly intimate view of one of the most important literary marriages of the twentieth century, Wifedom speaks to our present moment as much as it illuminates the past. Genre-bending and utterly original, it is an ode to the unsung work of women everywhere.
The Aubrey–Maturin series of novels by Patrick O’Brian have been compared to the works of Jane Austen – exhaustively researched plots drawn from the annals of the British Royal Navy and transplanted into Patrick O’Brian’s fictional Master and Commander series, these books are as equally character-driven as they are portrayals of the events of life in the navy during the years of the Napoleonic wars and I urge anyone who fears such books to be too technical or militaristic, to try them. No better example – beyond the two main protagonists Aubrey and Maturin, than the portrait of the eventual wife of Captain Aubrey – Sophie. The life of any sailor’s wife would be hard and full of fear of her husband never returning, long periods of absence, varying financial fortune and many other forms of uncertainty, but in Sophie we have a wife of heroic qualities to match the vicissitudes heaped upon her – a wife who takes charge of Aubrey’s home life every bit as much as he is captain of his ship at sea! The rather battered cover below depicts Sophie’s first appearance in the series of books alongside her future husband…
Another wife heaped with vicissitudes along with her husband, is Raynor Winn in her autobiographical account of how she and her husband, having lost their house and business due to a treacherous friend and having simultaneous with their homelessness, receive a diagnosis of her husband’s terminal illness. They decide that with nowhere else to go and nothing to be done, they will spend the summer walking the coastal path from Somerset to Dorset around Devon and Cornwall. No spoilers but their endurance trial brings unexpected rewards and Raynors’s support of her husband is exemplary… Below is the very beautiful cover designed by Angela Harding.
If the three wives portrayed so far have been long-suffering, among other things, Cathy in East of Eden, by John Steinbeck, is the one dishing out the suffering, beginning by running away after burning her parents to death – she is a character of pure evil – described as having a “malformed soul”. Steinbeck regarded East of Eden as his magnum opus even though other books are more famous, Cannery Row (previously covered by me), The Grapes of Wrath and that much studied in school – Of Mice and Men. Despite being made into an iconic film featuring James Dean, I venture to suggest that not so many people have read the epic family saga East of Eden. Indeed the film only deals with part of the story and I wonder if Steinbeck would be disappointed that his magnum opus is not the one that time has accorded that accolade to.
The title East of Eden comes from the fourth chapter of Genesis, verses one through sixteen, which recounts the story of Cain and Abel and the whole book – accused by some of being “moralistic” certainly deals with big themes – good and evil, brotherly rivalry, love and depravity and as always with Steinbeck we are treated to a portrait of the life and times in the Salinas Valley, California. There is a saying about writing that “big themes are dead weights” and whilst this is undoubtedly a weighty novel, it is still a great read from a master, even if not his master work… The cover below makes as sensational a view as it can of the central drama of two brothers torn apart by the inexplicably evil Cathy.
Another painful marriage is depicted in On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan – an author not renowned for being the most cheerful in his writings, the unfolding of this depiction of a virginal couple on honeymoon in an as yet sexually unliberated 1962, is excruciating in the extreme and yet, such is the quality of the writing – you cannot look away… on Chesil Beach has been turned into a film.
Many of the writers I have covered in my 6 Degrees are writers I read long ago but Nicola Griffiths is a new favourite whose canon I am working through in order, from Ammonite (Lesbian science fiction) to her current amazing historical novels featuring Hild, a powerful woman from Britain’s pre-medieval history. Between these wildly divergent books linked only by their themes of strong women and excellent writing, comes the Aud Torvingen series of which Stay is the second book. Aud is not exactly your typical P.I. as she is a woman of independent wealth but in each of the three books she conducts investigations, willingly or unwillingly and (spoiler alert) – she also falls in love in book one and in book two has to deal with the loss and the grief over her lover. Although Aud does not find the happiness of marriage until book three, Stay is a portrait of a wife thwarted and her response by throwing herself into “a series of physical, moral, and emotional challenges that she has been dodging for weeks, months, and years – none of her choices are easy.” What more can we ask from a book…
My last link, slightly tenuously back to Wifedom, is The Fourth Hand by John Irving. It is a tale of a wife who is so dedicated to her husband that – well here is what the Penguin blurb says:- While reporting a story from India, a New York television journalist has his left hand eaten by a lion; millions of TV viewers witness the accident. In Boston, a renowned hand surgeon awaits the opportunity to perform the nation’s first hand transplant. A married woman in Wisconsin wants to give the one-handed reporter her husband’s left hand, that is, after her husband dies. But the husband is alive, relatively young, and healthy… The widow supplies permission for the transplant but then demands visitation rights with the hand – a typical thought experiment of a plot from the masterful John Irving. This is the first of John Irving’s books that I have included in 6 Degeees but once discovered, I devoured his early books such as The World According to Garp and several of his books have been turned into films. I recommend some of his later books too, such as Till I Find You about tattoos and tattoo artists. Irving has repeated elements that crop up in many of his books – bears, hotels, wrestling but however far-fetched some of the things Irving writes about may seem to be, they make you think about life in a clever and enjoyable way – no wonder he occupies half a bookshelf of mine! The link back to Wifedom – the extraordinary connection between and support/dedication of a wife…
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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Dear Darla
There are no baby pictures to share with you, the grand -children are grown up and scattered to the wind but girlfriends are maturing and the sound of great grand- children grows off-stage waiting in the wings nascent ready, D.V. as my mother used to say. Meantime I offer you a happy couple and newborn painted to my prompt by an AI in the style of 1960’s Ladybird books are they not divine too good to be true…
Love is in the air and is intoxicating as the fumes of brandy in a glass balloon it wafts beyond the happy pairs of lovers rekindling memories of a younger age re-living and reeling with heady recall
Three grandsons now perhaps have found their matches and you know when talk turns to children and which football tribe they should be raised in that these are keepers
I have never been to a match and been drunk on shared passion in a huge crowd but watching a film whilst waiting to meet the latest and last to join the set, we shared the intimacy of lovers in Portrait of a Lady on Fire
A camera takes us to the heart of an orchestra in concert with a closeness to each player’s breath and movement as they embrace their instruments to pull on our heartstrings and film likewise grants us close-ups of couples we would never see in real life our neighbours love lives hidden in semi-detached suburban rooms separate, unknowable, ineffable no matter how openly the rest of our proximate lives are lived was it different in the warm fug of tribal longhouses lovemaking couples as close as the next cocooning hammock?
Children don’t care to imagine their parents making love imagining they are beyond all that however deep the love they daily show and parents don’t dare to imagine their children either the perils of the heart the baton passed but when love is in the air for those lucky enough to have roots deep in the rich soil of happy parents there is the hope of templating happy families to come
Such open-hearted boys have not escaped without venturing up blind alleys at least two have had songs of heartbreak loss and bewilderment plucked painfully on their heartstrings before finding their way safely to harbour in calmer but still deep water after storm-tossed seas
I held those boys as babies drew or close-up photographed their sleeping faces turned their living-room into a fort, cave, nest or whatever their imagination could conjure from the jumble of throws and giant cushions taught them the love of the pun witnessed tantrums and triumphs watched football from the sidelines, school and scout uniforms gowns and mortarboards how could I not be drawn along in the wake of their love lives dropping away like the pilot boat waving up to the after-deck as I slow down and they gather pace on their own voyages of love
The calmness and Giaconda smile of one, the bubbling enthusiasm of another perfume from Morrocco the first impression throwing one off the scent of the depths of a doctor the brightness and humanity of all of them grandsons and girlfriends alike mingling as a family dancing in ever closer union my head spins and my heartstrings resonate simply on the fumes as love is in the air.
Dear Diary – As a last resort, to be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes – I heard it was a natural eye make-up but since my eyes are now red-rimmed from the gritty foreign bodies I discover I was wrong. Turnsole is a naturopathic remedy for conjunctivitis and in failing to prepare it properly I now look like a rabbit with myxomatosis!
To catch your eye I have tried Kohl – which really is an ancient beauty aide, I replaced my L’Oréal eye shadow with a more expensive brand because I felt attracting you was worth more – today I must go to work with naked eyes till they heal up…
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Dear Diary – Today he looked at me, asked if I had been crying – he couldn’t bear it! Then he asked me out!!!
Today’s piece is a response to Sanaa‘s Prosery Prompt over on dVerse Poets Pub to write a story in any genre using just 144 words and including the line “to be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes”
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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Dear Alexandria
My lovely sister late of last year was a large woman though she didn’t like the word fat. She had an enormous appetite for life, battling on for three years when they gave her six months. One experience that never tempted her was to get a tattoo. A woman tattoo artist told me when asked about the process “Ideally, we like jolly, fat girls!” Missing her most days…
I am not allowed to show you Alexandria’s poem but I am intrigued to know more about it if she sees this post… Like many of the PoPoFest writers, Alexandria is from Seattle where the Fest originates from.
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 first year and hearing about it just in time to register, I was on List 15. 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 20 of 31 possibles and now that we are into September, it is allowable to share the cards and poems you sent and the cards but not the poems you received. I will share these in the order of sending and I will miss out those which I have not yet received in case they arrive soon… 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…
Tiny Forests of the Imagination
Dear Jill You live on a coast renowned for great trees and whilst we also have forests, our trees are smaller though no less great.
Sometimes I lie down on the forest floor and see towering trees in the mossy landscape and carry my imaginings away in camera and in mind…
The idea of the poems is generally that they should be epistolary, relate to the image on the front of the card, and – if your card has been received already by the sender (not possible with the first few obviously) – then it might relate to your poem too. I am not allowed to show you Jill’s poem but I can say that it was a lovely poem about Seattle…