I’d never read the George Herbert poem but ended up not only reading it but down a rabbit hole of analysis. A good while later I’m returning to say thank you x
We studied the George Herbert poem at A level, and over 20 years later I still remember it by heart. The first two lines in particular are just perfect. As an atheist I try to ignore the religious meanings and just enjoy the love
Effie, I had a similar experience with “The Collar” by George Herbert. We were taking a test in advanced English and were asked to analyze that poem. I was so besotted with it that I could barely focus on the test, and ended up memorizing it 💛.
I'm new here and I just love all this Friday morning poem sharing! What a great way to wrap up the work week. I've posted two love poems to my newsletter, last Friday and today. Sort of Valentine's Day bookends. The first was a poem to my son: https://connort.substack.com/p/friend-to-dragons ; today's I wrote for my daughter: https://connort.substack.com/p/love-mom
And I'll share with you the poem I sent to my husband on Valentine's Day. He's out of town this week and we're not really into the holiday. But John Kenney's Love Poems for Married People has become a bit of a Valentine tradition for us. I knew this would give him a good laugh:
Oh Tara I love all 3 of these poems!! The ones to your kids are beautiful - I have 2 sons and a daughter and completely relate to that frustration around gender stereotypes. And the shower one has made me laugh 😂 I feel like the holiday isn’t so big in the UK, certainly there’s none of the stuff at schools with flowers or cards which I am endlessly grateful for as I’d have hated that at school!!
I love a great love poem even though I have not been in love forever I still love the idea of love and people being in love. I really enjoyed this one by Rob Auton
Hello Poetry Pals. Already 54 comments in 😅 I feel too late to participate and too done-in to be honest. Half-term, kid’s birthday, husband’s birthday, viruses, vets, National Trust days out. You know how it goes. I’m here with you in spirit. Big LIKES ❤️✨ to everyone that has managed to write and especially managed to write around kids this week. I look forward to next Friday’s round-up when both kids at nursery 🤞
I have been struck down with the lurgy this week, a byproduct of my eldest son literally “sharing the love” because he had it at the start of the week. I’ve also started a new job so I bet my new colleagues have enjoyed me dragging myself into work coughing and sneezing!
I did post something I wrote on my Insta just before Valentines Day, because it occurred to me that my husband and I are often so consumed with parenting and working and emptying the dishwasher and other mundane things that we gave up on the “grand romantic gestures” thing a while back.
However - there are just little things we do for each other that truly convince me that the love is still there….
That’s lovely Kate, particularly the soup bit! And the texting so they don’t think you’re dead massively resonates with me, being married to an anxious man!
Ahhh Kate this is such a gorgeous poem on long term love and I think it shows how thoughtfulness and friendship are what really keep people together ❤️
Nelly, I love your ‘That Friend’ poem so much. So relatable! “Who is in awe of your not-yet achievements” 👌👌. I’ve just ordered your book :)
I feel really stirred to write about female friendship. It’s such an important and powerful force. And one that patriarchy tells us is meaningless (*which means it is absolutely the opposite*).
Funnily enough, I’ve been tinkering with this one this week - I wrote it last summer after meeting up with a gorgeous friend. Still think there is tweaking to be done…
*The power of an old friend*
She shot me glance of pure recognition across the car park,
the glint in her eye shining the same possibility of mischief and hilarity as 25 years ago,
When, in our pyjamas, we’d debrief the random and rich moments of the night before.
Stories told and re-told, each time with a little more dramatic effect.
A wild and magnetic hug, the same securing arms that held me after my first break up, my first job offer, my first child, my first family bereavement.
A walk and a cuppa - two of life’s beautiful and unrivalled thought detanglers.
We hadn’t seen each other for over a year and we might not see each other for another, but we both left knowing
the profound power of an old friend to make us feel new.
Oh Ange. My best best friend came up to visit last weekend and when she went again I felt this gaping hole. I miss her. So this one resonates so strongly today. Stories retold, each with a little more dramatic effect. This is so true. The last line is so very accurate! Aren't we lucky to have friends like this!
Following on from this …your book arrived Nelly! Am enjoying it so much. Going to order it for a friend who has just had her first baby. It’s like a message in a bottle…”the game is rigged from the start…and that makes you even more amazing mothering in this brutal system” 👌
Thank you so so much. I forget that I wrote it often. I think partly because I'm still a little awkward about it. If that makes sense. Still have a bit of a vulnerability hangover. So I really appreciate you saying that you're enjoying it. And reminding me that I wrote it because I care about this stuff. I hope your friend enjoys it too. xx
It’s wonderful Nelly. Can feel the heart behind it so much. Am particularly struck by ‘At Nine with Neon Nails.’ So TRUE. I would have loved this book as a companion when mine were tiny - bite sized nuggets of encouragement, me too moments and system shaking consciousness raising 👌👌. It’s very special, thank you so much for putting it out into the world, in spite of the awkwardness you feel (and I think it’s all the more special *because* of this vulnerability) x
I wish I’d known you when I published it, I needed this sort of kindness and reassurance, and you have just written me my blurb 🤣❤️. Do you write for a job? Your ability to capture a whole big thing in a few sentences is quite something! X
I should also say if I had to choose a love poem it would be John Donne’s The Flea. I taught this at secondary school and they are always amazed that even 17th century poets wrote about sex.
The Flea
BY JOHN DONNE
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.
I’ve found it really hard this week. The daily magic of mundane life, tucking my kids up in bed and cuddling them with this visceral awareness of the horrors occurring elsewhere.
I loved this poem and piece from Kerri ni Dochartaigh - You Are Who I Love 🍉🩷
I feel a bit like this poem needs to be read more widely. Of course, you might not want it to be. But you know how some poems (writing) tell a truth in a way that no stat or news headline will ever manage to. Have the power to really make the reader think. Not sure what I'm trying to say. Just that I feel like this poem is special.
That is truly beautiful but also heartbreaking. It’s so sad that for some children, they would witness this in their own homes happening to their mothers, sisters, and heaven forbid even have it happen to them.
So poignant as well about how men can literally be dragged past the sign oblivious because day to day this is never something that the majority of men will ever have to worry about! X
Oh Zoe, this is so powerfully observed and written. The nearly invisible sign, just like the nearly invisible perpetrators. Even the nearly invisible sign hides their agency. I just googled “what percentage of men abuse/assault women” and nothing came up except for the % of women subjected. “My soul remembers” 🎯 x
Powerful. Piercing. You’ve shone a spotlight on that sign. There’s so much to sit with in your words and I wish I could make everyone have to. Look. See. Hear. Know. Believe. I’m bearing witness to you, Zoe. Thank you.
Oh Zoe, I was crying by the end of your poem. I've sat here with this one for a while. So many levels to digest, not sure I'm ready to move on with the rest of the post. You've written that beautifully x
I tried this week, it’s not finished yet though. I took a line from my notes and tried to work it into a poem. It’s stuck again at the moment. The line was “An odd hook hung on the wall, a careless reminder of the picture that once hung there. The wall was stained with memory, small and square, a story now lost. But why?” I took lines out, added the back in, changed words, changed them again. It’s been a week of not finishing poems. I started two others am not satisfied with them either.
Careless
An odd hook hung on the wall,
Twisted brass nailed erratically,
The careless angle
a careless reminder of the picture that once hung there.
The wall stained with memory,
small and square,
a story now lost.
Lacklustre brown cardboard
Boxes squat on the table
Objects tossed inside,
carelessly abandoned.
There is little care here.
Empty dust spaces adorn shelves
Memories of ornaments now removed
But why?
I haven’t read much other, I started a book my son gave me to read, but couldn’t get into it and it’s upstairs and I’m down.
A week of startings and playings and not finishings sounds good to me (I say, knowing that those weeks also frustrate the hell out of me, ha). I was reading it so eager to know the story behind it!
When I read this it made me picture my nana’s home where I spent a lot of my childhood, and her living room where she had all her family photos, and it made me think about when she had to go into a nursing home, and we packed up so much of her stuff for her to take. And how the walls just had hooks instead of pictures, and at the time it had made me feel so very sad. So thank you for putting into words what I couldn’t all those years ago 😢
Oh my goodness, this poem. "I could hardly stand to watch". Thank you so much for bringing it here. And also, I don't think I've read any by Carrie Fountain either, a new poet for me. Thank you again.
Love can be incredibly difficult! And sometimes the hardest part is waiting. I wrote this poem years ago, capturing the flip side of a relationship and what it’s like to wait.
I can’t say I’ve read too many poems about love these days but my favourite many moons ago was the classic, “How Do I Love Thee” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
And this week I had already been writing down old poem snippets into my journal for no particular reason than to get them off my notes app, so nice timing! I took two of those bits, made them get married and out came this poem:
I know that I could read this over and over and discover different things each time. What a gorgeous ending. So these were different snippets that you mixed together? x
Thank you, Nelly. The snippets were about the narrow deer path and laughing at the howling wind. I remember exactly where I was when I wrote them so I did my best to channel that experience and develop it further!
We’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s either, but any excuse to write about love or share love poetry is good with me. Your “that friend” poem is so utterly gorgeous Nelly, I might have to buy it for my friend!! 😍😍
I like so many love poems but thought I’d share A Decade by Amy Lowell - I wrote an after of this poem in my book. It’s quite an old poem but somehow doesn’t feel it, and it’s a gorgeous reflection on longer term love!
I really like Joni Mitchell and I am obsessed with “A Case of You” - not least because me and my husband met as I worked in his pub so booze has always been a part of our story!
A while back my lovely friend Jen Feroze wrote a golden shovel with a Joni Mitchell lyric, too (from the same song so I won’t ever share this anywhere other than here as it’s a total rip off of her idea 😂) here’s her incredible poem
I knew I couldn’t write something as beautiful and exquisitely written as Jen did but I thought it might be fun to try a golden shovel and when I first attempted it a while back I just saw everything it lacked. So, in the spirit of revisiting and editing, this week I went back to it and it made me smile - it’s not a masterpiece but it’s a nice little vignette about the early days with my husband, and it can be fun to experiment with form but I rarely do, so I’m pleased I did that. I’ve edited it a bit to improve it but the last line is still a bit too long really, but I couldn’t work it out any other way yet 😂
Golden shovel, from A Case Of You by Joni Mitchell
Butterflies in my belly and
there he was, acting as though he
already knew every inch of me, loved
each fold of my skin, moving over me
expertly. Boundaries had been blurred so
we spent weeks sneaking around, feeling naughty,
trying to hide our evident chemistry. We made
our way into each other’s hearts, too: he had me
within days, but I pretended I wasn’t weak
for him a little longer, when in
truth I was infatuated. A year later, the
happy ending began: him, a ring in his hand, on his knees.
(Song lyric : And he loved me so naughty, made me weak in the knees)
Annoyingly I don’t think the golden shovel format will work here because the lines don’t fit so I’ve put the lyric at the end so you can see what I was going for! Oh and in case the context is useful, with a golden shovel, you take a line from a poem or song and then use the words from that line as the end word on each line of your poem, obviously ensuring you credit the original writer. https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/golden-shovel-poetic-form
WHEW sorry about that essay for a Friday morning!! Cheers if you read it 😂
There's just so much here. I kept meaning to come back and thank you. Flaming kids distracting me from my poetry over the weekend.
The concept of a golden shovel, which I am now obsessed with trying, even though i should be working as we speak. It is all I can do to not have a little play right now.
I love that Amy Lowell poem (had never read it).
The lyrics of Joni Mitchell songs.
And both yours and Jen's poems, so good.
I'm with you that sometimes I have to force myself to try a different form but I always enjoy myself when I do. Thanks for inspiring me
Ellen I loved the Joni Mitchell golden shovel. Her work is so inspiring it’s wonderful to see new words blossoming from her lyrics - really enjoyed your poem. And thank you for introducing me to the term golden shovel. :)
So as a Joni fan, Heidi, you were probably wondering why I’ve written the wrong song name for a lyric that’s from “River” 😂😂🙈 I feel very silly now, ha!
Oh! You’ve all been very kind in not pointing out that the song lyric is from River, not a Case of You 🙈😂 I feel very silly for that mistake, I guess my only defence is they are both on the Blue record! 😂
Nelly these are all beautiful thanks for sharing, I especially loved The Ship ❤️ I did my own Valentines poetry round-up of ones that speak to the lonely hearts club
One I've written--this is a less conventional love poem, but it's one that means a lot to me: https://open.substack.com/pub/margaretannsilver/p/capolavoro?r=2ghube&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
Love (III) by George Herbert: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44367/love-iii
Also,
"Thought" by Henry Dumas
Love came to me and said:
What do you want of me?
Save me I said, Save me.
Love knelt down beside me
and love said:
If you knew the price
of coming to you,
you would ask nothing
but would give.
I’d never read the George Herbert poem but ended up not only reading it but down a rabbit hole of analysis. A good while later I’m returning to say thank you x
We studied the George Herbert poem at A level, and over 20 years later I still remember it by heart. The first two lines in particular are just perfect. As an atheist I try to ignore the religious meanings and just enjoy the love
Effie, I had a similar experience with “The Collar” by George Herbert. We were taking a test in advanced English and were asked to analyze that poem. I was so besotted with it that I could barely focus on the test, and ended up memorizing it 💛.
Your poem is beautiful, Margaret, that form is so powerful. Thank you for sharing it! ❤️
I listened to a Poetry Exchange podcast with the actor Andrew Scott talking about the George Herbert poem, it was really interesting!
Thank you so much, Ellen! Yes, that form is super intriguing to me. I keep meaning to try it again.
I will have to check out that podcast! I don’t really know anything about the poem (other than I love it).
That’s gorgeous x
I'm new here and I just love all this Friday morning poem sharing! What a great way to wrap up the work week. I've posted two love poems to my newsletter, last Friday and today. Sort of Valentine's Day bookends. The first was a poem to my son: https://connort.substack.com/p/friend-to-dragons ; today's I wrote for my daughter: https://connort.substack.com/p/love-mom
And I'll share with you the poem I sent to my husband on Valentine's Day. He's out of town this week and we're not really into the holiday. But John Kenney's Love Poems for Married People has become a bit of a Valentine tradition for us. I knew this would give him a good laugh:
Why are you in the shower with me?
Did the bathtub shrink?
I ask because here we are,
naked,
showering together,
like we once did all the time.
Remember? At the beginning?
We would stand and talk,
seals slipping by one another,
a playful ease letting the other into the stream.
Now?
I'm not sure what you're doing in here.
I'm freezing.
There's shampoo in my eyes.
You just stepped on my foot.
For the love of Christ who flushed the toilet?
Because I'm being scalded alive.
Get out.
Now.
It was a nice idea though, honey.
Could you close the door?
Tara hello, so good to have you here. This poem to your husband really made me chuckle. Did the bathtub shrink? Brilliant.
It’s so nice to have you here Tara 🥰
Your poem made me laugh 😂❤️ I really feel it
Loved these poems Tara, you write so beautifully.
Thank you, that's so kind.
Oh Tara I love all 3 of these poems!! The ones to your kids are beautiful - I have 2 sons and a daughter and completely relate to that frustration around gender stereotypes. And the shower one has made me laugh 😂 I feel like the holiday isn’t so big in the UK, certainly there’s none of the stuff at schools with flowers or cards which I am endlessly grateful for as I’d have hated that at school!!
Thanks so much! Really appreciate you taking to time to read and respond. 🙏🏻
I love a great love poem even though I have not been in love forever I still love the idea of love and people being in love. I really enjoyed this one by Rob Auton
https://x.com/robertauton/status/1757715838570778886?s=46&t=48-HVnUCxj1aP3E4vLDLzA
What a beaut!!
Friendship has been a whole vibe this Valentine’s. What a gorgeous poem. I forgot Tim Liu’s heartstopper❣️THANK YOU xo
Hello Poetry Pals. Already 54 comments in 😅 I feel too late to participate and too done-in to be honest. Half-term, kid’s birthday, husband’s birthday, viruses, vets, National Trust days out. You know how it goes. I’m here with you in spirit. Big LIKES ❤️✨ to everyone that has managed to write and especially managed to write around kids this week. I look forward to next Friday’s round-up when both kids at nursery 🤞
I was a bit the same this week. But I’ve just enjoyed a big old read. I think that’s fine.in fact more than fine. Delicious x
I have been struck down with the lurgy this week, a byproduct of my eldest son literally “sharing the love” because he had it at the start of the week. I’ve also started a new job so I bet my new colleagues have enjoyed me dragging myself into work coughing and sneezing!
I did post something I wrote on my Insta just before Valentines Day, because it occurred to me that my husband and I are often so consumed with parenting and working and emptying the dishwasher and other mundane things that we gave up on the “grand romantic gestures” thing a while back.
However - there are just little things we do for each other that truly convince me that the love is still there….
(Spoiler - it involves soup!) 😂
Let me know if this resonates with anyone….
https://www.instagram.com/p/C3OYzZnIgnj/?igsh=M20xaWJkNXpqN3h3
That’s lovely Kate, particularly the soup bit! And the texting so they don’t think you’re dead massively resonates with me, being married to an anxious man!
I’ve come to realise that “text when you’re there safe” is code in our house for “I love you” ❤️
This is lovely Kate. “Knowing which week for green bins” 👌! And the sigh when the kids are finally settled - yes!!
I would be lost without my live-in binfluencer!
Hear you. I would like to be all feminist and, "bins are not just a boys job" but in our house, bins are not for me. 'Binfluencer' - ha.
Ahhh Kate this is such a gorgeous poem on long term love and I think it shows how thoughtfulness and friendship are what really keep people together ❤️
Nelly, I love your ‘That Friend’ poem so much. So relatable! “Who is in awe of your not-yet achievements” 👌👌. I’ve just ordered your book :)
I feel really stirred to write about female friendship. It’s such an important and powerful force. And one that patriarchy tells us is meaningless (*which means it is absolutely the opposite*).
Funnily enough, I’ve been tinkering with this one this week - I wrote it last summer after meeting up with a gorgeous friend. Still think there is tweaking to be done…
*The power of an old friend*
She shot me glance of pure recognition across the car park,
the glint in her eye shining the same possibility of mischief and hilarity as 25 years ago,
When, in our pyjamas, we’d debrief the random and rich moments of the night before.
Stories told and re-told, each time with a little more dramatic effect.
A wild and magnetic hug, the same securing arms that held me after my first break up, my first job offer, my first child, my first family bereavement.
A walk and a cuppa - two of life’s beautiful and unrivalled thought detanglers.
We hadn’t seen each other for over a year and we might not see each other for another, but we both left knowing
the profound power of an old friend to make us feel new.
- Ange Disbury -
Oh Ange. My best best friend came up to visit last weekend and when she went again I felt this gaping hole. I miss her. So this one resonates so strongly today. Stories retold, each with a little more dramatic effect. This is so true. The last line is so very accurate! Aren't we lucky to have friends like this!
Oh Ange this is gorgeous and warm and lovely! It made me feel a bit emotional 🥹 I always feel so very grateful for these kinds of friends ❤️❤️
They’re so precious aren’t they 🤍
Following on from this …your book arrived Nelly! Am enjoying it so much. Going to order it for a friend who has just had her first baby. It’s like a message in a bottle…”the game is rigged from the start…and that makes you even more amazing mothering in this brutal system” 👌
Thank you so so much. I forget that I wrote it often. I think partly because I'm still a little awkward about it. If that makes sense. Still have a bit of a vulnerability hangover. So I really appreciate you saying that you're enjoying it. And reminding me that I wrote it because I care about this stuff. I hope your friend enjoys it too. xx
I work in the NHS :) I’ve popped a review on Amazon. Thanks Nelly x
It’s wonderful Nelly. Can feel the heart behind it so much. Am particularly struck by ‘At Nine with Neon Nails.’ So TRUE. I would have loved this book as a companion when mine were tiny - bite sized nuggets of encouragement, me too moments and system shaking consciousness raising 👌👌. It’s very special, thank you so much for putting it out into the world, in spite of the awkwardness you feel (and I think it’s all the more special *because* of this vulnerability) x
I wish I’d known you when I published it, I needed this sort of kindness and reassurance, and you have just written me my blurb 🤣❤️. Do you write for a job? Your ability to capture a whole big thing in a few sentences is quite something! X
I should also say if I had to choose a love poem it would be John Donne’s The Flea. I taught this at secondary school and they are always amazed that even 17th century poets wrote about sex.
The Flea
BY JOHN DONNE
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.
I’ve found it really hard this week. The daily magic of mundane life, tucking my kids up in bed and cuddling them with this visceral awareness of the horrors occurring elsewhere.
I loved this poem and piece from Kerri ni Dochartaigh - You Are Who I Love 🍉🩷
https://open.substack.com/pub/kerrindochartaigh/p/you-are-who-i-love
And this is my poem - it’s also heavy 😅 obvs. Inspired by our trip to the oriental museum at the weekend -
Signs:
There is a sign at the museum
where my toddler runs
free,
dressing up in soft, silk,
glittery kimonos and colouring in
black and white images of
Arabian princes adorned
in jewels and gold.
The sign - placed,
discreetly, on the wall
it’s colours blending in
barely existing at all
and which you would only see
if you were truly looking
(and how many of us are
truly looking?) -
states that, across the globe
in all of Earth’s secret and
wondrous corners, 75% of
women experience sexual violence
as if sexual violence were a ride
at a fair ground or a delightful
three course meal at a fancy hotel.
The sign tells me that
‘the most dangerous place
for a woman is in the home’ -
which, as a side note is also
the place that most women are
forced to stay in -
and did you know that, here
in England, 1.5 women die at the hands
of their intimate partner
every, single week?
The sign sits there demurely
as my husband is pulled past it
by tiny impatient hands,
pigtails bouncing from a to b
and my heart drops
every so slightly further
into my chest at the innocence
of the man and his young daughter
oblivious to the quietly placed
words on the sign
as my mind remembers, my soul remembers
tight fists make it hard to breathe and fingers
go where they should not be
and it’s getting hard to breathe
now and it hurts but
no one sees.
No one knows.
No one believes.
Apart from that sign.
Which barely exists.
Placed, ever so discreetly,
on the wall of the museum
where my toddler goes
to play.
I feel a bit like this poem needs to be read more widely. Of course, you might not want it to be. But you know how some poems (writing) tell a truth in a way that no stat or news headline will ever manage to. Have the power to really make the reader think. Not sure what I'm trying to say. Just that I feel like this poem is special.
Also, thank you so much - your comments (and everyone else’s) are so affirming to me. I save them for when the imposter syndrome voice is loud 🙏
Yes ❤️ I think I’m not great at getting things ‘out there’ but I’d be really happy for you / anyone to share it
Zoe this one is such a powerful one. The unseen sign is such a strong symbol. This one is not going to leave me.
Thank you 🙏
That is truly beautiful but also heartbreaking. It’s so sad that for some children, they would witness this in their own homes happening to their mothers, sisters, and heaven forbid even have it happen to them.
So poignant as well about how men can literally be dragged past the sign oblivious because day to day this is never something that the majority of men will ever have to worry about! X
Thank you Kate 🙏
I know, the men thing is something I ponder often…
Oh Zoe, this is so powerfully observed and written. The nearly invisible sign, just like the nearly invisible perpetrators. Even the nearly invisible sign hides their agency. I just googled “what percentage of men abuse/assault women” and nothing came up except for the % of women subjected. “My soul remembers” 🎯 x
Thank you Ange 🙏
I know, I tried to google the stats and didn’t get far either. Which I guess probes the point really 😢
Powerful. Piercing. You’ve shone a spotlight on that sign. There’s so much to sit with in your words and I wish I could make everyone have to. Look. See. Hear. Know. Believe. I’m bearing witness to you, Zoe. Thank you.
Thank you Erin 🙏❤️
Wow, Zoe. Your poem is incredibly powerful, thank you for sharing it ❤️
I love Kerri’s post too and the beautiful poem which inspired it by Aracelis Girmay 😍
Thank you 🙏
Oh Zoe, I was crying by the end of your poem. I've sat here with this one for a while. So many levels to digest, not sure I'm ready to move on with the rest of the post. You've written that beautifully x
Thank you Kathryn ❤️ for feeling it with me x
I love your poem Nelly, I 5hink.i even have one friend like that. She amazes me all the time with her thought and caring.
Thank you. A friendship like that is a special thing isn't it x
I tried this week, it’s not finished yet though. I took a line from my notes and tried to work it into a poem. It’s stuck again at the moment. The line was “An odd hook hung on the wall, a careless reminder of the picture that once hung there. The wall was stained with memory, small and square, a story now lost. But why?” I took lines out, added the back in, changed words, changed them again. It’s been a week of not finishing poems. I started two others am not satisfied with them either.
Careless
An odd hook hung on the wall,
Twisted brass nailed erratically,
The careless angle
a careless reminder of the picture that once hung there.
The wall stained with memory,
small and square,
a story now lost.
Lacklustre brown cardboard
Boxes squat on the table
Objects tossed inside,
carelessly abandoned.
There is little care here.
Empty dust spaces adorn shelves
Memories of ornaments now removed
But why?
I haven’t read much other, I started a book my son gave me to read, but couldn’t get into it and it’s upstairs and I’m down.
A week of startings and playings and not finishings sounds good to me (I say, knowing that those weeks also frustrate the hell out of me, ha). I was reading it so eager to know the story behind it!
“The wall stained with memory” - love this line 👌
When I read this it made me picture my nana’s home where I spent a lot of my childhood, and her living room where she had all her family photos, and it made me think about when she had to go into a nursing home, and we packed up so much of her stuff for her to take. And how the walls just had hooks instead of pictures, and at the time it had made me feel so very sad. So thank you for putting into words what I couldn’t all those years ago 😢
😘
Oh Tamsin I think this is wonderful 😍 it’s really evocative!
Too kind.
This Carrie Fountain poem is a favourite of mine: https://poets.org/poem/will-you/embed
Oh my goodness, this poem. "I could hardly stand to watch". Thank you so much for bringing it here. And also, I don't think I've read any by Carrie Fountain either, a new poet for me. Thank you again.
I first came across her work via Maggie Smith & she’s now one of my favourite poets.
Adore Carrie’s work. Thank you for sharing xo
Love can be incredibly difficult! And sometimes the hardest part is waiting. I wrote this poem years ago, capturing the flip side of a relationship and what it’s like to wait.
https://open.substack.com/pub/heididarby/p/weekly-sip-the-wait?r=2zlglb&utm_medium=ios&utm_campaign=post
Ooh nice. Enjoyed sharing a drink with you, love the scene setting you are doing over there x
Thank you, Nelly!! So glad you dropped in. Please feel free to visit any time, the doors are always open. :)
I can’t say I’ve read too many poems about love these days but my favourite many moons ago was the classic, “How Do I Love Thee” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
And this week I had already been writing down old poem snippets into my journal for no particular reason than to get them off my notes app, so nice timing! I took two of those bits, made them get married and out came this poem:
Heading to the hills to catch up with my mind
she’s already a thousand steps
ahead
racing
to anywhere but here
blazing past the the gift of hours
getting ready for sometime
somewhere else.
I can’t keep up the pace
anymore. I let her run.
To the right another path catches my eye
trodden only by the hooves of deer
calling me to this narrow way.
The ground here unstable
uneven.
Slowing down to mind my ankles.
It’s the oddest thing
to be scrambling over roots
and rocks
yet find secure footing.
The change in pace enough
for my soul to become
steady.
I’ve lost my mind by now
it’s rather refreshing.
Overlooking the valley
standing among towering pines
I hear her voice
calling
carried by the howling wind
“Where’d you go? Hurry up! It’s getting late!”
I laugh
dig my heels in
I swear I’m sprouting roots.
This time she doesn’t get to
take my breath
away.
I know that I could read this over and over and discover different things each time. What a gorgeous ending. So these were different snippets that you mixed together? x
Thank you, Nelly. The snippets were about the narrow deer path and laughing at the howling wind. I remember exactly where I was when I wrote them so I did my best to channel that experience and develop it further!
Ooh what a fun idea. Ok. That’s left me thinking. Thank you x
This is beautiful, Erin, such stunning imagery!
Thank you so much, Ellen!
This is a beauty Erin.
‘Heading to the hills to catch up with my mind’ 🥰
Thank you, Ange. 🥰
We’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s either, but any excuse to write about love or share love poetry is good with me. Your “that friend” poem is so utterly gorgeous Nelly, I might have to buy it for my friend!! 😍😍
I like so many love poems but thought I’d share A Decade by Amy Lowell - I wrote an after of this poem in my book. It’s quite an old poem but somehow doesn’t feel it, and it’s a gorgeous reflection on longer term love!
https://poets.org/poem/decade
I really like Joni Mitchell and I am obsessed with “A Case of You” - not least because me and my husband met as I worked in his pub so booze has always been a part of our story!
A while back my lovely friend Jen Feroze wrote a golden shovel with a Joni Mitchell lyric, too (from the same song so I won’t ever share this anywhere other than here as it’s a total rip off of her idea 😂) here’s her incredible poem
https://miniskirtmagazine.com/main-pages/archives/issue-15/jen-feroze-poetry-its-2003-and-joni-is-teaching-me-about-love/
I knew I couldn’t write something as beautiful and exquisitely written as Jen did but I thought it might be fun to try a golden shovel and when I first attempted it a while back I just saw everything it lacked. So, in the spirit of revisiting and editing, this week I went back to it and it made me smile - it’s not a masterpiece but it’s a nice little vignette about the early days with my husband, and it can be fun to experiment with form but I rarely do, so I’m pleased I did that. I’ve edited it a bit to improve it but the last line is still a bit too long really, but I couldn’t work it out any other way yet 😂
Golden shovel, from A Case Of You by Joni Mitchell
Butterflies in my belly and
there he was, acting as though he
already knew every inch of me, loved
each fold of my skin, moving over me
expertly. Boundaries had been blurred so
we spent weeks sneaking around, feeling naughty,
trying to hide our evident chemistry. We made
our way into each other’s hearts, too: he had me
within days, but I pretended I wasn’t weak
for him a little longer, when in
truth I was infatuated. A year later, the
happy ending began: him, a ring in his hand, on his knees.
(Song lyric : And he loved me so naughty, made me weak in the knees)
Annoyingly I don’t think the golden shovel format will work here because the lines don’t fit so I’ve put the lyric at the end so you can see what I was going for! Oh and in case the context is useful, with a golden shovel, you take a line from a poem or song and then use the words from that line as the end word on each line of your poem, obviously ensuring you credit the original writer. https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/golden-shovel-poetic-form
WHEW sorry about that essay for a Friday morning!! Cheers if you read it 😂
There's just so much here. I kept meaning to come back and thank you. Flaming kids distracting me from my poetry over the weekend.
The concept of a golden shovel, which I am now obsessed with trying, even though i should be working as we speak. It is all I can do to not have a little play right now.
I love that Amy Lowell poem (had never read it).
The lyrics of Joni Mitchell songs.
And both yours and Jen's poems, so good.
I'm with you that sometimes I have to force myself to try a different form but I always enjoy myself when I do. Thanks for inspiring me
Ahh thanks for such a lovely comment Nelly! Well, I’m just glad to be returning the favour as these newsletters and community have been so inspiring!
PS I did order your print for my friend Caroline 😍😍😍
I have seen it. I am so grateful for it. I cannot wait to read it. I’m gonna pop the kettle on again first so I’m ready….
Ellen I loved the Joni Mitchell golden shovel. Her work is so inspiring it’s wonderful to see new words blossoming from her lyrics - really enjoyed your poem. And thank you for introducing me to the term golden shovel. :)
So as a Joni fan, Heidi, you were probably wondering why I’ve written the wrong song name for a lyric that’s from “River” 😂😂🙈 I feel very silly now, ha!
Your poem made me blush in the best way. ;) And thanks for teaching me about the golden shovel - what a fun exercise!
I loved diving into all of these, especially the Amy Lowell poem, I haven’t read her before. Thank you 🙏 🩷
Oh! You’ve all been very kind in not pointing out that the song lyric is from River, not a Case of You 🙈😂 I feel very silly for that mistake, I guess my only defence is they are both on the Blue record! 😂
I don’t think anyone minds remotely. Everyone is just grateful for the words and the sharing x
Nelly these are all beautiful thanks for sharing, I especially loved The Ship ❤️ I did my own Valentines poetry round-up of ones that speak to the lonely hearts club
https://open.substack.com/pub/nanchanna/p/a-round-up-of-poems-for-your-heart?r=okps6&utm_medium=ios&utm_campaign=post
Thank you for sharing, I've headed over your way x