Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The sound of poetry, the slip of clay


Unusually, I’m blogging at the end of the day. Not for a change of routine (although that would be no bad thing) but because  my London poetry seminar group met today and I joined them via Skype. At the last minute I remembered we agreed I would do this so I had a rush to find a poem for work-shopping and then spent  three hours listening to the other six poet’s work.

Listening without reading as I usually do was a different workshop experience. I could hear the shape (mostly), at times I forgot the early stanzas and often certain words stood out … perhaps not those that would have done if I’d also had a paper copy in front of me. 

It was hard work, and the walk with the dogs that followed was very welcome. A lot of the clay soil around here has turned  into something suitable to make into a pot, walking demands concentration on where you put your feet. So my ears had a well deserved rest.  

Poetry is, of course, about sound and shape and … the list goes on and on, so my experience is hardly surprising but It served to remind me to listen more to my draft work … listen for what is memorable, and especially to listen to the beginning and end lines.

Time to light a few candles and find my book. Back tomorrow, or the next day.

PS Three eggs today, so all our hens are now laying.  Spring gets closer …

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