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Katie Woods's avatar

This poem though. Isn’t it just perfect for a sunny February day. How can a poem of so few words conjure so much? And isn’t that the absolute thrill of poetry ✨

On A Train

The book I’ve been reading

rests on my knee. You sleep.

It’s beautiful out there -

fields, little lakes and winter trees

in February sunlight,

every car park a shining mosaic.

Long radiant minutes,

your hand in my hand,

still warm, still warm.

Wendy Cope

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Oh this is a beaut isn’t it. So flaming simple. (But actually so not simple to pull off 🤣)

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Emily's avatar

That really is the thrill of poetry - to conjure so much in a few words. It always amazes me. I loved the poem you shared. Such a wonderful poem for today.

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Jodi Beamish's avatar

Beginning

I’m finding words

like breadcrumbs dropped on a path

left for me to find

leading me

to a place barely imagined

even as it is longed for

I’m finding words

like feathers scattered in the wind

they float around me

tickling my mind

JoBe

This is my feeling about being here.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Oh yes. Oh absolutely yes.

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Angela Joy's avatar

Ah I love this. Finding not forcing words as they co-exist with and wait for us 🤍

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Emily's avatar

A beautiful poem to capture this space. It’s certainly providing inspiration for new poems to form. I love how your poem speaks of this delicate process. Wonderful.

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Tamsin's avatar

Ooo, I love this. I like the idea of words for us to find rather than summoning them, I love the feeling of them having autonomy of allowing us to choose them.

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

Hi Nelly,

That is going to be a stunning poem! I've had a reasonable week writing wise. I've spent some time on my new business venture (scary) some time making a new poetry film (invigorating) and some time reading (The Color Purple). I wrote this poem last week, after a prompt about hedgehogs!

My mother , the hedgehog

The apron and mob cap

attract the domesticity keeps her

safe. And yes she knows it is not true

representation of the hedgehog but

she loves them. Pin black eyes glint understanding

from greetings cards, mugs she’ll keep

for best. An expression of unthreatening

sisterhood, dressed with flowers. The thank you

that she really, really,

really doesn’t need.

She dreams of her nest, her unseen

children’s children stretch hard to

greet her, eager for the treats she

gathers on her spines. You’ve got to spoil them

haven’t you.

Kathryn Anna Marshall

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

I really like it when a poem marries things together that I’d never really imagined marrying. And poetry films do indeed sound rather marvellous. I made a video (by no means a film) of a children’s poem I wrote once and it added a whole new (enjoyable) dimension. I’ll be heading over x

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

Look forward to hearing what you think !

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Jennifer McLamb's avatar

Hi Kathryn, thanks for sharing your poem - her unseen children's children, treats she gathers on her spines. Ooh I love it. It also makes me smile is "Mrs Tiggywinkle" is a nickname I sometimes call my mum.

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

Thank you!

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Emily's avatar

The poetry film sounds intriguing. I will have to take a look. I very much enjoyed reading your poem here.

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

Thank you 🙏

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Oh, this is lovely, Kathryn!

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Feb 2, 2024
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Tamsin's avatar

Ooo, a poetry film, how interesting, I am intrigued.

Immediately saw Mrs Tiggywinkle in my head busying around her kitchen. The image of reaching grandchildren too - wonderful.

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

Thanks Zoe! I'm very much feeling my way with poetry film - I do feel each one is a little better than the last so that's progress of some sort 😆 They're all on my Substack Words and Pictures - new one will be posted today (I hope!)

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

I am so, so happy to have found this group!

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Isn’t it joyous x

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Tamsin's avatar

I’m glad you found us, and I’m glad I found you,

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Kathryn's avatar

Oh I have loved reading all these poems in the comments. Well done everyone, just beautiful to be a part of this and hear from you all. Nelly I loved " Speed-date shells until you find one to pocket". Do share the final version!

I've read a lot of poetry this week, joined a "poetry in pjs" zoom ft Harry Baker, bought his first book (had only read his second one) and scribbled a few poems of my own. Thanks again for having me!

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

And thank you. I will share it, maybe, hopefully 🤣

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Ooh please do share a fave Harry Baker poem with us when you’ve read on!

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Colleen Verhamme's avatar

“Speed-dating sea shells” was my favorite part too! Such a fun image for something we all find ourselves doing on the beach. Loved the scrap Nelly, it was beautiful!

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Rach's avatar

I’ve not really written anything as such but this came to me just as I was drifting off a few nights after Archer had called for us a few times (bad cough/cold so poor sleep) - it obviously needs more and maybe tweaking but sharing is caring right 🤞

We always come when you call,

Just as we did when you cried.

Still sometimes wearily,

Still sometimes tired & begrudgingly.

But you know when you need us,

We will come …

What a knowing to behold.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Isn’t it just! That total and utter security ❤️

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Mamie White's avatar

I have had a week, my partner in crime when it comes to writing and poetry was taken in to the ICU last week. She is still there very poorly but they are on top of her condition now, waiting for the good there doing to kick in and a recovery process to start. But because of the shock and the grief of its hard to think about other things. And also she was my writing buddy and my cheerleader and support I’ve felt a bit lost. But having you guys here talking about your poems has helped me feel less alone. I’m thinking of writing 8 part poem on friendship as Ive thought a lot about that this week. Looking for tomorrow prompt too. I have a weeks retreat this week so hopefully have time for a poem or two. I have used my feelings to write my friend poetry that I’ll share with her someday I think.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Oh Mamie I’m so sorry. What a week you must have had and are still having. So glad they are looking after her. A friendship poem sounds lovely. As does the idea of writing poetry you might show her one day. Go gentle on yourself though. If it helps, write. If it doesn’t, don’t. We are here either way x

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Mamie White's avatar

Thank you for creating this space and your kind words of encouragement. When I a few moments I find that I’m thinking in poetry. I think this might be my guide in helping me to process all that’s gone on. I love it also that I can sit in community and just be as others write around me, knowing that’s okay to.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

I know exactly what you mean. And when I’m “thinking in poetry” I think (hope) that means opening ourselves up to experiencing it all. Whatever it all is. Yes, your place on the sofa is most definitely here x

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Angela Joy's avatar

Nelly, this is lovely (your beach poem beginnings and your enthusiasm to bring us along).

I found the poem hard to understand (and I always get a bit frustrated thinking “did they write this to sound lofty or did it genuinely need to be like this!)” but I LOVED the prompt.

I’ve written something - a series of statements (which I guess poetry can be!). I didn’t write about any places but chose to write about observations on society’s double standards...

*Eight ways to look at parents*

He’s such a hands-on Dad.

She’s got her hands full…bitten off more than she can chew.

He’s decisive, what a leader.

She’s bossy and hysterical.

He took time out of work to see his kid’s assembly, how amazing.

She’s late…and what is she wearing?

He picks the kids up from school on a Friday, he’s so involved!

She’s missing out on their childhood.

He’s doing his best at the supermarket, bless his heart.

She should make him a list.

He’s so good at maintaining his hobbies.

She needs to be better at self care - like treating herself to some getting ready time.

He’s looking so dignified as he ages, what a silver fox.

She’s let herself go, still hasn’t lost the baby weight.

He called his ageing parents last week, what a thoughtful guy

She needs to keep those kids under control while food shopping for her Mum.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Ha, I LOVE this. ‘She’s late…and what is she wearing”. Omg this is so true. All of it, so rage inducing and true. 👏

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Angela Joy's avatar

Was hard to contain it to ‘eight ways.’ Number nine didn’t make the cut but would be:

His feelings are facts

Her facts are feelings

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Tamsin's avatar

Oh the verse 9. So true.

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Katie Woods's avatar

Love this style - statements that can later be expanded into verses or kept as they are for impact. I’m a big fan of statements. And this verse 👉 ‘He’s so good at maintaining his hobbies.

She needs to be better at self care - like treating herself to some getting ready time.’ I still say thank you when I’m given time to have a proper, hair wash & dry shower!!!!

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Erin Stinson's avatar

I especially had a good chuckle at “she should make him a list.” Double standards, indeed!

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Emily's avatar

I love the poem by Joy Sullivan. It beautifully describes what poetry brings into my life. I thought the start of your poem Nelly was wonderful. A brilliantly observed moment on a beach. I felt all the grains of sand. I look forward to reading the final poem.

I did have a think about the prompt and had an idea. But haven’t had the capacity to write it this week. I might try jotting something down later or at the weekend. A poem comes in its own time. It’s been lovely to read everyone’s poems here. I enjoy seeing what everyone has created during the week.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

An idea is a wonderful thing 💎

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Angela Joy's avatar

“A poem comes in its own time” 🤍

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Angela Joy's avatar

Love this. The cafe that has been a landmark to so many of your life landmarks. It’s very special and really honours women - women are amazing!

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Tamsin's avatar

Absolutely love the Joy Sullivan poem. Cos yes, exactly! And your poem Nelly, will be epic.

I didn’t manage the prompt this week, a lack of spoons in the main and the fact I didn’t connect with the poem. I don’t know why so much, it just seemed odd, and I disliked the structure. I tried in my head but couldn’t get any words onto paper. I got a first line or two and then got stuck. I did write a silly poem whilst watching R (husband) and J (son) playing chess. I use the enforced quiet time to write, I don’t really watch them.

Anthropomorphised

Are you dead pen? Dying?

You don’t seem well.

Rationing your ink is mean.

I can barely see you,

more indentation than coloured line.

I keep writing in the hope you may revive.

But the ink continues to lessen.

I may need to rub a pencil all over the page

to see what I've written.

I'd like to say you served me well

but the cartridge is still half full.

Are you a traitor instead, trying to stop my flow?

It's not that bad, your purple brethren

is happy to take over your task.

Okay, in the bin you go.

Nothing heavy, or meaningful, just silliness.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

This put a smile on my face 😊

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Ha! This is wonderful, Tamsin!

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Emily's avatar

I enjoyed reading your poem. I never would have thought about writing a poem about a dying pen. But you did it really well. It made me smile. I will no doubt think about it when I’m next writing with a problematic pen.

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Tamsin's avatar

It as green, I love interchanging green with purple when writing from different ideas, makes it easier on read back. I have fond another green but it isn’t as nice a pen. But you can never buy too much stationary right?

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Erin Stinson's avatar

I am so loving Poetry Pals - thank you for giving us this space, Nelly! 100 poems feels overwhelming until I look at it over time. One poem scrawled down is one more I didn’t have the courage to try before! Practices that are just that - practice (not perfection: note to self) - are where we experience growth and I’m looking forward to looking back in a year’s time!

I really wrestled with this week’s prompt because I was editing before I even put pen to paper. *Must. Write. Epic. Poem*. Sheesh. But I finally worked out a version that is closer to where I wanted to go. I loved Matthew Caley’s imagery and adjective use and kept that in mind while writing. Thoughts and critique welcome.

Eight Ways of Looking at Strength

Give me the calming current

of a trickling mountain creek

shaping forming over time

surrendered to the ebb and flow.

Give me the exposed branches

of an outstretched trembling aspen

so my leaves may quiver with the breeze

release in every autumn.

Give me the lush vulnerability

of an unprotected forest floor

a soft bed for rejuvenation

once laid bare and fallow.

Give me the thin skin

of a newly hen-laid egg

may my walls be a shelter

for life and growth and peace.

Give me the intricate webbing skills

of an acrobatic spider

building silky glassine tightropes

to catch the morning light.

Give me the fleeting pastel arch

of a reflected beaming rainbow

collecting the finest mist

to kiss the clouds with promise.

Give me the sensitive petals

of a delicate wild rose

may my face turn toward the sun

perfumed in due season.

Give me the tender wings

of a sweet singing warbler

teaching this body to fly

with feathers on a fragile frame.

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Katie Woods's avatar

Hi Erin. Thanks for sharing. Love these 2 verses 👇

Give me the thin skin

of a newly hen-laid egg

may my walls be a shelter

for life and growth and peace.

[I like the rhythm and the alteration]

Give me the sensitive petals

of a delicate wild rose

may my face turn toward the sun

perfumed in due season.

[This verse visually made sense to me like I could see a face turning towards the sun with sensitive, delicate, perfumed skin]

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Thank you, Katie. I so appreciate your feedback! As I was writing I found it was begging for a structured rhythm but needed to let it go so I could actually get any words on paper. I think I'd like to return to it now that there's no time frame to finish anything and see if I can honour the cadence that kept coming up.

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Katie Woods's avatar

Yes, it’s like some of the verses are too wordy and some of the verses just flow better. I do not have the technical language to describe any better 😅

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Oh it just got better and better. “The lush vulnerability of an unprotected forest floor” , dreamy. The egg verse too. I actually wondered if it held its own without that title. Was it even better without it? But then I really like the idea of different ways to look at strength. So now I’m unsure. writing my musings incase they are helpful.

And agree entirely about the 100. We are just playing here. It will be so good to look back and hopefully see our progress. I like what you said about wanting to think about imagery and adjectives because you liked that he did that well. In future I am going to make the same sort of notes to remind myself before starting. Thank you x

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Appreciate the musings! Very valid question about the title... hmm, do you think that you would have seen the play on strength without it?

And yes! I start the week with your prompt and writing down observations of the poem(s) you share, hoping to glean a little from every poet. This is just such a wonderful space, Nelly. Thank you, again.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Hmm I don’t know. Maybe second time round. Leave it a while and come back to it? I always find upon that first (second) reading I tend to know if something isn’t quite right. Do you? It’s a really great poem!

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Thank you so much, Zoe.

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Worry set hard like cement was the line that got me too. It really does describe that fear so well. How nice to have been able to return to that cafe a year on and reflect and scribble. I’m glad you got to do that x

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Colleen Verhamme's avatar

Thank you Nelly cultivating this space! It feels so welcoming, creative, and joyful. Speaking of, I love Joy Sullivan’s poem. As someone who is just starting to write poetry, it resonated so much with me…I’m starting to see the world in a whole new way and it’s a beautiful shift💕 I did write a bit this week but didn’t have a chance to play with the writing prompt. I’m loving reading what others did with it though!

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

It’s just a whole different gaze upon the world isn’t it. Thank you so much for being here. Even if you don’t write, or don’t use the prompt, I’m hoping just being here will keep things sparking xx

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Katie Woods's avatar

Ok Poetry Pals, here are my scribbles from this week. Context: February is a big month for me, the month my first born made his entrance and this Feb my second born starts nursery. It just so happens that I had a scary 12 week scan with her last Feb. And there is a cafe // country park that I park at near to the hospital where I have sat many Februarys processing big life things and it’s where I went to sit today after I dropped off the littlest at nursery for the first time and this is what I scribbled 👇 Not a poem yet but there’s a kernel of an idea in there, I can feel it ✨

February 2nd. Imbolc.

Honour Brigid the Celtic Goddess of poetry,

Attempt to write a tender, hopeful poem.

Weave together the stories from the same month from the same cafe. Come on a journey with me. Know how far I’ve come. Feel what I felt. February is a pivotal month.

Feb 2nd (2020) your due date. Feel expansive, trusting, everything in its own time. Chat to wise older lady who calms me. She gave birth 3 weeks (?) over due at home, and all was fine. Take it as a good omen.

Feb 7th (2020) 1cm dilated. Excitement. Trepidation. Adrenaline. Try to get labour going. Lunge around woods. What am I doing? How is this going to end? Deep breath. Here we go.

Feb (2022) Single magpie along woodland path. Bad omen. Sit in cafe, alone. Fear-beating-heart. Lump in throat. Process the information. High-risk of downs-syndrome. Further tests needed. Order something sweet, to distract from the bitter thoughts? Impossible. Worry set hard like cement.

Feb (2023) Sunlit morning. Agitated. Your first session at nursery. All that worry. All that risk. All those aspirins I had to take. And here you are, bouncing in my lap, all giggles and sunbeams.

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Tamsin's avatar

Oo, I remember the stress of scary scans and blood tests. And the worry that sets in your soul until the second they are born.

Love that you’ve got the cafe as the thread that runs through it all.

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Angela Joy's avatar

Love this. The cafe that has been a landmark to so many of your life landmarks. It’s very special and really honours women - women are amazing!

👆(I put this comment in a random place above rather than here - just noticed. Sorry it got lost!)

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Katie Woods's avatar

Ah, thanks for re-posting here 😊

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Erin Stinson's avatar

Katie, I held my breath until “sunbeams”! Thank you for sharing this. There’s something incredibly freeing in your honest thoughts - and I want to take this with me next time (ahem, probably on Monday with the next prompt!) I’m wrestling with trying to get the words out. Your notes feel poetic themselves.

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Katie Woods's avatar

Thanks for this message Erin. I do tend to write poetic notes and then never actually go back to them and thrash out ‘the poem’ you know what I mean?

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Lisa O'Hare's avatar

I have a scrap of a poem that I like the start of but haven’t figured out .. but it’s about how dancing makes you feel the age you danced the most at

dance until there’s no wrinkles or bumps

spin away all worries and pain

let’s go round again

maybe we can turn back the hands time

when we sang about discos in the future

that are now in the past

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Nelly Bryce's avatar

Oh I miss dancing like this. This has made me nostalgic!

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