The Hare and The Sun
He stood, head erect,
face to the morning sun.
His dew-soaked feet,
white belly and laid back ears
welcomed its morning warmth.
With closed eyes, he let
his delicate nose twitch
and a thousand scents invaded his head.
The sun rose higher and observed
the hare, ears pricked,
clawing its mad fight.
Photo and artwork by Dave Elsom @Sombrero Printmaking
Ekphrastic Challenge April 2022
Poems inspired by the drawings, paintings and photos of Gaynor Kane, John Law and Anjum Wasim Dar. All hosted by Paul Brookes.
You can read these poems and many others on Paul's website The Wombwell Rainbow.
April 1st
In the unconscious night
the world is in colours,
swirling, melting and folding.
There is joy and laughter,
people surround me
like a child's blanket.
In the daylight my room is empty.
April 2nd
Wonder
I wonder if the sun
ever wished it could alter course
and bounce along the horizon
or rise in the West
or pop up at midnight?
Whether it resents
the laws of physics
that keep the planets in order
and its motion in check?
As I resent this virus
that has invaded my body.
I watch the sun set once more
and force myself to breathe.
April 3rd
Lilies
Lilies in the sunlight, me on a blanket
spread out on the early summer grass;
a bumble bee zigzags across the pond
and disappears into the shaded trees
where birds converse. I wished that I were light
enough to float like that bee, leap from lily
pad to lily pad or even perch on the pond's skin.
You call, and I turn, your face remembered
mostly from pictures. From before that summer
when we lost you.
April 4th
The Old House
stlll looks the same, as if I could
dip in my pocket, take the key
and slowly turn the creaking door
that later I'd forget to oil.
Step on the bumpy kitchen floor,
that we said we'd change but never did.
You said that it would spoil
the feel, the spirit of the place.
I felt that too, and we would
let the clock tick on another year
until the stairs would hurt your knees
as winter's chill would drain your face
and so with tears we said goodbye.
And when the door closed one last time
did the creak seem like a sigh?
April 5th
Monochrome
When winter comes,
it comes in monochrome.
Drains the colour from the trees,
turns blue to grey above our heads,
lays snow and ice to mask the land.
April 6th
City
From the bridge the city seems remote,
lit but empty, reflected in the blackness
of the river.
It masks the stars, denies the moon.
April 7th
Butterfly
A flash of colour
catches my distracted eye;
a trick of the light.
April 8th
Distorted Vision
April 9th
History
I look out on history; lights flicker
in the harbour as an old newsreel
clatters - ships breaking the water,
nervous soldiers crawling the streets,
hooded figures in the shadows.
April 10th
Wheat
The wheat would grow tall this year,
reaching for the midday sun;
touching its warmth.
He would not witness it;
he would go East, to bathe in blood.
They would go West, lost in tears.
Only the wheat would stay, waiting
for them, a ruined harvest in the storms
of autumn.
The wheat would come back, next year,
and the year after. The wheat would not
lose hope.
Licoreria
Only the old stone remembered.
They would meet here, clasping hands,
embraces heavy with thought. Toast
with the same glasses, words and liquor
harsh yet warm in their throats.
Silent in the company of strangers,
only the old stone walls listened
to the breath of revolution.
One by one they fell, taken in the night
or dragged from the street. Their place
of secrets smashed, their blood cold.
Rainbows
The magic of rainbows never left him.
Even after he learnt it was pure light
dispersed across the spectrum.
Even though he knew the Northern Lights
came from solar bursts, dancing
on the Earth's magnetic field, he gazed
upwards like a child in wonder. When lightning
crackled in the skies, when thunder groaned.
When the moon blocked the sun and darkened
the day, when comets seared through the night.
April 11th
The End of the Street
was never in view
until, unexpectedly, you were there.
Past the old thatched house, shadowed
by old trees and leaking smoke
from its ancient chimney.
Dots of red flowers on the plants
by the side of the road, birds
lazily tracking across late afternoon
skies. The urge to go back was strong;
to see it one more time, to be cushioned
in its sepia pillow.
April 12th
Castles
We build our castles
with double thick walls
made of the hardest stone.
They stand remote
on the highest hills.
We dig deep moats,
create heavy gates,
make our windows small.
April 13th
Lighthouse
The Earth is swirling,
melting, we gasp
in its heavy air,
claw at its unyielding land.
The seas we try to escape on
are choking.
As our eyes close in prayer,
we glimpse the lighthouse
as it flickers one last time.
April 14th
Perfect
The silence was unexpected;
surrounded by a million souls,
the river still, the air touching
her face, cool in the orange dawn.
Nothing seemed broken here,
everything in its place,
poised for another circuit of a sun
that was making its usual entrance.
The single piece of litter
bothered her more than it should.
Everything should be perfect,
eyes closed in the golden river.
April 15th
The Girl in the Snow
looked at me as I passed
it was only fleeting
her eyes said everything and nothing
I wondered if she lived
in one of the grey buildings
or prayed at the church
whether she was cold
and whether she was loved
it was only fleeting
April 16th
With a forward reference to day 23
Drink
The red liquid stared at him
the last half inch in the large glass
drained easily, staggered track to the door
out into the city night
sounds of sirens, only emergencies
and taxis this late. The Gothic building
towered over him; he felt its
disappointment, its disgust.
"Fuck you!" he shouted,
and vomited into the road.
April 17th
Fathoms
In the blue cave
creatures live brief lives;
some alone, drifting,
carried by the unseen tide.
Others, schooling together,
flicking direction, sensing
peripheral danger.
On the rocky walls, some
have crafted their own
protective shells, or hide
in subtle gaps.
April 18th
Level Playing Field
The playing field
slopes left to right;
steeper and steeper
until it becomes
vertical.
The Ice Prince
The Ice Queen kept her Ice Prince locked in the Ice Tower.
She kept the windows shut to keep out the pale sunlight.
All their food was frozen, and they wore ice clothes.
She always said to The Ice Prince "It's not safe out there
for us, your father went out and never came back. I have to
keep you safe, keep you frozen."
The Ice Prince didn't want to be locked away. He wanted
to play in the snow, feel the wind chill his face.
One day, when he was out of his locked room, he spotted
a small patch of sunlight coming through a crack in the tower walls.
When the Queen wasn't looking, he put his hand in the patch of light
and melted a few drops of himself onto the floor.
The thin trickle went into the crack in the wall. He did this every day,
drip by drip. Sometimes he added some of the icy food. He noticed
the crack getting bigger. Day by slow day, trickle by trickle, he knew
a little Ice Twin was growing.
The Ice Twin would wait until he was big enough to go outside,
where he would grow and grow until he could come back and take
him away.
April 19th
The Last Man on Earthhad plenty of time on his hands.
Time to ponder the big questions.
How had it come to this?
Would another species evolve
with the ability to destroy itself?
And why is the last human on Earth
always a man?
April 20th
Waves
The waves are sparkling today,
bubble-froth on shining sand
straggles of brown seaweed
dragged in, abandoned
to dry out on high tide.
The April breeze picks up the salt
and cools it on our faces
in the lemon ice-cream sun.
Carries the sounds of reopened
amusement arcades, gulls
and excited children.
The first taste and sound of summer,
the town's high tide,
lost in the ebb of drizzle drenched winter.
April 21st
Smile
I have always loved
watching children force a smile
for the camera.
Half grimacing, sometimes
with slightly upturned mouth,
sometimes not.
Or not showing teeth at all,
perhaps embarrassed
by Tooth Fairy gaps.
Seen, more often than not,
in overpriced school photos.
April 22nd
He had removed his glasses
and his eyes were wet
with grief. The whole garden
was smudged, shapes understood
but indistinct.
Sky to leaves, leaves to trunk,
trunk to roots, roots to flowers.
April 23rd
Wine
Wine transports you to places
seen and unseen. The castles
of the Rhine, the banks of the Loire,
the hills of Spain, the broad plains
of Marlborough.
Sun. Rain. Vine. Grape.
Fermenting and aging in cellars.
Waiting for the turn of cap or cork,
the sound of pouring liquid.
The swirl of the glass.
Memories and wishes.
April 24th
Ships
You lose perception of distance
the further away you get.
Jet trails in the sky,
ships on the horizon,
memories.
April 25th
Unorthodox Easter
A stark wooden cross
pierced the blue April sky.
Far away, a gilded cross was carried,
reverently transported
by robed and pious men.
They light a candle and fires rage.
Whispered prayers order death.
Voices and eyes raised to Heaven,
their leader fresh from slaughter
makes the sign of the cross.
April 26th
Dark Side
beneath the flat exterior the polite smile
the thank yous and pleases the do you mind ifs
the oh it's no problems the front we show
like a cute piglet in a scarf you think it's all roses
and chocolate and nice things don't you but it isn't
it's dark in here
April 27th
Galway Girl
after Steve Earle
Galway Girl was being played in the Irish pub
by the regular turn - his backing track thumps
and as he sang, across the room,
I saw you, cocktail in your laughing hand.
Your hair was blond and your eyes were brown
and I longed to take you from this tired town
round the Salthill Prom or anywhere at all
and get asked to your flat when the rain starts to fall
but then he came in and his kiss on your mouth
left me all alone to dream
of your brown eyes and long blond hair
and how my broken heart
never got chance to get halfway there.
April 28th
Ukraine
after Miguel Hernandez
We come from the earth;
lands of wheat, from the same milk.
Sun and air, flowers that laugh
at the gently falling snow.
And we will fight now, fists
clenched and blood in our throats.
And to the earth we will return.
April 29th
Surfing
It was just him and the sea
and the cold sky watching;
the slow rise and fall,
further out, further out,
waiting, heart pumping,
the world shut out,
only the board and the waves,
holding on, certain yet uncertain,
balancing risk and reward.
April 30th
Colours
Red - weathered stones on the beach
Orange - glowing winter sunset
Yellow - leaves fading as they dry
Green - seaweed draping stones
Blue - pale, empty sky
Indigo - the blue-black sea
Violet - tree-shadow
The seabird rising from the ground
has all of these and none of them.
Snow and night.
National Poetry Month 2021 Writing Challenge
Here are links to all the poems I wrote for the April 2021 National Poetry Month Ekphrastic Writing Challenge, set by Paul Brookes using art work by Jane Cornwell, John Law and Kerfe Roig.
Wikipedia describes the word ekphrasis, or
ecphrasis, as follows: "it comes from the Greek for the description of a work of art
produced as a rhetorical exercise, often used in the adjectival form ekphrastic. It is a vivid, often dramatic, verbal description of a visual work of art, either real or imagined."
In this case I have sometimes done this, but mainly I've allowed the art to inspire a poem around the subject of the piece, often tangential.
I don't usually create and publish poems at speed so I consider all of these as drafts and they will almost certainly be edited, revised or left in their original form if they are beyond help. I've decided to look back at each of them and describe what they are about and why I wrote them - if I can figure it out.
April 1st - mummy's gone
My immediate reaction, looking back at this, is how arresting the drawing is. The child in the poem is perhaps younger than the one in the picture. Children, and indeed adults, have a place they go when things have got really bad and this is how I saw this drawing. The event itself isn't obvious - more likely to be the mother leaving than passing away, I think. I deliberately used lower case throughout, and no punctuation, to emphasis the age of the narrator. I think this one can work without the drawing and just needs maybe a little tweaking.
April 2nd - La Luna
I'm not sure whether the artist intended this to look like a corrupted moon, but that's what I saw.
The form is a sonnet, with some half-rhymes. These are often used when something is amiss. The turn isn't really obvious, probably comes when you realise it's only the narrator that can see this. Is the narrator mad, or is everyone else not seeing the problem? I think the poem can stand without the picture, but the picture adds to it. It's hard to edit a sonnet, but I may need to have a look at this one again.
April 3rd - Chysanthemums
I did a bit of background research on this flower and it raised the question of flowers as a symbol - often opposite things in different cultures. In this case of a failed marriage. A simple 2 stanza ABBA rhyming scheme in iambic pentameter. I quite like this one. It's miserable, though. That's 3 doom laden poems in a row.
April 4th - Digging a Duck Blind at Spurn
I like this one. I've never been to Spurn but I have a mental image of it, and I quite like the idea of places that are remote, and the emptiness of river deltas and marsh land near the sea. I'd jotted a few things down and then the first line came to me, and I wanted to hook the poem around it. So much that I used it twice. The idea of land masses ebbing and flowing over long time periods also appeals, although now it seems that rising sea levels will mean this only goes one way. It's a free verse poem, and I think still needs some small tweaks, but it's a keeper.
April 5th - Orbiting
This was the first day I struggled to get something out. The art work intrigued me, and I wanted to write something about having fractured images. The second one (the alien one) came first and I gratefully wrote it down and kept it. It's not particularly original, though. The first one is closer to what I wanted to say, but will be something I may work on again / change / expand rather than keep.
April 6th - Homeless
This definitely feels like a draft - it's too much like prose in parts and isn't the best homelessness poem I've written. The ideas are OK I think - there are two ideas in one poem though (the fragility of a secure job and home, the reality of homelessness), and maybe it's best to concentrate on one. It's also structured into stanzas, but whether it needs that or not I don't know.
April 7th - Granite
This one's nice and short, and I think with a bit of work it could be OK. The subject is definitely that of experience and wisdom being ignored. I realised after I'd written it that, buried in the poem, it might be more personal than I imagined. Despite how good the drawing is, I was struggling a bit for ideas at first so I used the technique of just writing down any words that came into my head when I looked at the image and then incorporating them into the poem.
April 8th - Guacamole
This simple painting of the ingedients of guacamole made me think immediately of the markets in Spain - the non-standardised vegetables and fruits. I can almost smell them. This has the feel of a draft - more prose than poem - but I like some of the bits. Probably too much exposition at the end.
April 9th - Selkie
This is inspired as much by Nancy Kerr's song Fragile Water as it is by Jane's artwork. Selkie is the name given to creatures who shape shift between seal and human forms and is Scots in origin. In many of the folk tales the selkie is female but I decided to twist that. If they lose their seal skin they can be stuck as humans. It's written in Anglo-Saxon rhythm, which relies heavily on alliteration and is better when read aloud than it is on the page. I quite like this one, but it probably needs some work. This will entail recording and listening back as much as reading it. If you know Beowulf, there are some references or "borrowings" from that too.
April 10th - Ethereal Blue
This is definitely a bit different but I'm not sure I like it or even understand what it's about. Still, it's what came to me when I saw the painting. It feels like a dream I may have had, although I don't remember any dream exactly like this. I also use the word "wherein" which I never use. I think I'll park this one...
April 11th - Sylvia
Back on more familiar and structured territory with a villanelle. I had recently watched the (not very good) film about Sylvia Plath and this image, and her story and relationship with Ted Hughes, triggered this poem. She wrote one of the best villanelles - A Mad Girl's Love Song - and the topic of this poem lends itself to an obsessive form. I'm always pleased when a structured poem works so this one will definitely be kept.
April 12th - Pebble Bird
I like this little sonnet. It's not Shakespearean, as it's in 8 syllables, not 10, and it breaks the iambic rhythm a bit. I like the half and near rhymes that stop it being too sing-song. The idea of us all being stuck in a certain limited life, that has its own beauty, until we are washed away is quite nicely handled.
April 13th - The Harbour
This is the best of the bunch so far. A free verse poem that, unusually, started in the middle and worked outwards. I normally either find a line that ends up being first or last, or I just write prose, chop it back and add in the rhythm later. I started with "The tide has lapped to the wooden stepsIf I'm struggling with creating something from a prompt, I find a haiku is a good option to get something flowing. That's what I did here - I didn't know which art work to pick either so I wrote a haiku for each. I then thought, why not just create a sequence - this is a variant of a renga form. As with haiku, the true renga needs multiple people and has more rules than you can shake a stick at regarding content and structure. I used a 5-7-5 followed by a 7-7-7 and did at least acknowledge the seasonal nature of this Japanese poetic form. I think it's turned out OK. I also hope that Google has got that title right and it doesn't mean "Disenchanted helicopter"
April 17th - Back from Shopping
Not a poem, really. After so many depressing poems I felt I had to write something a bit more light-hearted. Although it does have a death in it. I don't think this piece will go much further, though. It just helped me to have a bit of a break from the serious stuff.
April 18th - She Breathes
A COVID poem - not much to say about it really. I don't know how the NHS front line staff kept going at the worst points in the crisis, as they risked their own health watching people struggle to breathe. The poem rhymes in two ways - the internal ABAB and the rhyming of each of the extra fifth lines with each other. It also uses one of Paul Brookes' favourite tricks of using the title as the first line. It is a bit clunky in parts but it might be worth trying to rework the bits that don't work.
April 19th - Toads
The idea of a toadstool actually being a toad's stool triggered this poem. Of course the title invokes Larkin and there may be a hint of him in there. I quite like this one, although it isn't necessarily very layered or original.
April 20th - Folly
I decided with this one to research the folly in the painting and include its story in the poem. The second image gave me the characters. I'm not quite sure what the poem is trying to say, but maybe that's the point, since it's maybe a folly itself. It needs a little bit of work but might be worth keeping. I'll revisit it later. It sparked a discussion when I posted it on the workshop facebook page regarding "the dog and he" - it's gramatically correct but sounds a bit forced linguistically, although it scans nicely. The poem starts off in iambic but then breaks into free verse. I need to make my mind up...
April 21st - Art
This appears to be a mining poem and it was inspired in part by a drawing of a miner by John Law. However its main thrust is around the concept of art, what it is, and who judges it. the same may well apply to poetry. I quite like this one as a stand-alone piece as it is but probably won't develop it further. Warning: Contains swearing!
April 22nd - Strange
This is the most deeply personal poem of the 30 in this challenge. Jane Cornwell's drawing happened to coincide with the date on which both my Mum and Dad died. I probably would have made any artwork connect with this, subconsciously, but it seemed very appropriate to put the idea of this poem down on paper. Electronically, at least. I don't think I'll change it much, if at all. From a poetic standpoint I like it's simple structure and the bracketing of the core of the poem with the matching, although not identical, start and end lines.
April 23rd - Magic Afoot
Shakespeare's birthday inspired this, and it borrows shamelessly from the Scottish play. My words do have links to Kerfe Roig's collage, though. Not much to the poem other than that really. I'll leave it up to you as to whether the interleaving of two poems works or not.
April 24th - Snipe
I had to resort to haiku again, but this time it's just 3 standard 5-7-5 form haiku. I quite like the idea here of linking the snipe and the sniper. I may have to extend it outside the haiku form, but maybe I'll leave it.
April 25th - April Shower
I quite like this - I'm not sure why it's laid out as two line stanzas but it seems OK. There may be some parts that could be refined - for example I'm not sure the snake simile works.
April 26th - Apparition
If I remember, I was struggling to connect with the 3 pieces on offer so this was almost a stream of consciousness based on what I saw in Kerfe Roig's interpretation of the Tarot card. I'm not really happy with what came out so this will probably join the pile of "never rans".
April 27th - The Trap
This is written in the "Mirrored Fib" form, based on the Fibonacci Sequence. The Fibonacci Sequence is a mathematical sequence seen often in nature, and many spider's webs have the spiral form linked to it. See the blog for full details. The form requires you to expand from extremely small lines (1 syllable) to very long ones then back again - it's easy to expand out and much harder to slam the brakes on. I used internal rhyming on the long lines to make them sound less like prose. I'm not totally happy with the words at the end as it still sounds a little forced. I'll keep this one but probably have another go at the ending.
April 28th - The Hill
A strange ghostly one, written in blank verse. Definitely needs work, or perhaps rewriting in another form. The Latin's probably wrong too.
April 29th - Ikaros
Ikaros is the Greek spelling of Icarus, who in mythology flew too close to the sun in the wings his father made of feathers and wax. He fell to his death. The birds in the painting are waxwings (see what I did there?) and this triggered the story. The poem is intended to be in the style of Constantine Cavafy, a Greek poet of the early 20th Century. Or, strictly speaking, in the style of one of Ian Parks' translations of Cavafy. I quite like it, but can probably ramp up the Cavafyness a bit in places.
April 30th - The Death of Dignity
The painting for this seemed Victorian so I decided to go for a Romantic-style ballad form with personification of human traits, where a famous example would be Shelley's Masque of Anarchy. The rhymes are not always full, and sometimes quite tenous, but this is deliberate to keep it from being too smooth and to focus on the somewhat grim message. It's appropriate as I had a friendly Twitter exchange yesterday with someone who said we should just all believe in Britain and not worry about being exploited and robbed by the ruling class.
Here is my personal ranking of the poems
Ranking
1 - The Harbour
2 - Strange
3 - Ikaros
4 - The Old Tree
5 - Digging a Duck Blind At Spurn
6 - Sylvia
7 - April Shower
8 - Pebble Bird
9 - Chrysanthemums
10 - La Luna
11 - Art
12 - Granite
13 - Toads
14 - Folly
15 - The Death of Dignity
16 - Selkie
17 - She Breathes
18 - Snipe
19 - 孤独な月
20 - The Trap
21 - mummy's gone
22 - Guacamole
23 - Sheffield 1979
24 - The Hill
25 - Apparition
26 - Magic Afoot
27 - Back from Shopping
28 - Orbiting
29 - Ethereal blue
30 - Homeless
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
The art work for this day is "The Nine of Wands" by Kerfe Roig
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Happy Shakespeare Day!
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
The art works for this day are by Jane Cornwell, "Inner Truth" by Kerfe Roig and "Autumn Fruits" by John Law
Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
The pieces for this day are by Jane Cornwell and John Law
