I am going to share my poetry exercises from the book I am reading about how to improve my poetry or get into it, because I am not confident in what I do;
The book is called “How to grow your own poem” by Kate Clanchy and I borrowed the book from the local library.
There is a poem in the book called “The table” by Edip Cansever and I am supposed to write my own version of the poem. Here is a link to the poem if you are interested?
http://www-personal.umich.edu/~rwtill/Poems/table.html
She comes home eager to share the events of the day
Chattering like there is no tomorrow
Putting her damp coat up on the rack and kicking off her shoes
Throwing her handbag down at the side of the couch
She takes her hair out of the neat bun and places her scrunchy and pins in a green bowl on the coffee table
Nobody cares about what she says, but she chatters on
An old lady got her walking stick stuck in a drain pipe today
Oh and I was told that Liam is having a party at the weekend and asked if I could go
Feet soggy in damp socks placed upon a footstool in front of the fire
Warmth sighing through her – release
Gerald was thinking about getting a cat too, can you imagine it?
Snuggling down deep into the couch
A hot mug of cocoa placed in her hands, stings but then sooths
Happily she sips the creamy sweet drink
Smiling to herself
I know they aren’t bothered by what I have to say
But I‘ve had a good day
Helped a stranger, made a friend, got all the work done in time for a change
She feels herself nodding into a snooze
Life is so draining here
Not like out there where I come home full of energy
She smiles to herself again
I suppose they can’t help it
Being stuck in all day
I wish they’d talk more about their day
Then thinking about the muppets song…
Now what was it?
Ah yes! Cabin fever!
That’s probably what it is with them
They’ve been stuck inside so long they’ve forgotten about life outside!
Mum, why don’t you go out more?
It’s not right to be stuck in like this!
You are hardly talking anymore!
Putting the mug of cocoa down on a pile of magazine on the coffee table
She turns to look at her mum
Her mum is sleeping in the green armchair next to her
She never used to be like this
She used to be vibrant too
As you can see, the poem doesn’t rhyme like a lot of my poems do, but that’s the point, to broaden my poetical horizons.
I am not happy with the above; I would probably delete it and ignore it. But then I wouldn’t grow, tell me what you think of it!
Happy reading!
tardycreative.com 