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Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: Angry Ocean

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If you drop here in often you will know that I love my beach walks and, in the past few months, especially, I have been incredibly grateful for being able to walk everyday. On Instagram I have been sharing one minute of my beach every day for two months. Until this week.  This week a series of storms have rendered my beach inaccessible – because  so much sand has been washed away that the stairs  end well above the sand line, and the footings of those stairs are hovering mid air.

Versions of this problem occur right along the coast, but I did manage eventually to find the one point where the beach is accessible, about ten kilometres from here.  You can imagine I was already feeling sad about my own favourite beach being out of bounds for the forseeable future, but when I did get onto this other beach, I was doubly sad when I saw all the rubbish washed up by the storm – plastic of all shapes and sizes, ropes, bottles, fishing tackle, you name it. I stomped around the shore collecting what I could and ferrying it up to the bin, and came home a little cranky about people who litter and pollute our oceans.

But later I paused to wonder if there was any good in this. All I could come up with was that I was giving back. The beach has been my sustenance these past few months, and now I was returning the favour with giving the damaged beach some care.  From that, I was left with the seed of a poem.

Here’s that poem (or its first draft, anyway):

Naughty Corner

All summer

You have frolicked on my shore

Swimming splashing diving

In my nourishing waters.

You’ve felt my sand between your toes

And taken deep breaths of my essence.

In boats

On skis

And boards

You’ve glided across my depths.

 

And I have welcomed you.

 

But I have not been fond

Of your discards:

Wrappers

Straws

Rope

Baskets

Bags

Casually left

Carelessly left

Dropped

And forgotten

By all but me

(It’s hard to ignore the sick rumbling

Deep in your stomach)

Now, at last.

I’ve had enough.

All night I’ve raged and rumbled

and now your waste

Is spewed upon

Those very shores

You’ve wandered.

 

Take it back.

I don’t want it.

 

As punishment

I’ve also reclaimed  some of my sand.

If you are very good

And show you’ve learnt your lesson

I might give it back some time.

Maybe before next summer.

(Copyright Sally Murphy 2020)

 

Funny how writing a poem always makes you feel a little bit better. I do still miss my beach though – so I went looking for another poem I wrote (and recorded for Poetry Friday) a few years ago about the things the sea leaves us:

 

I look forward to more treasures – hopefully I don’t have to wait till next Summer! (Although I do know, especially now, that being unable to walk on the beach is a very first world problem!)

If you want more poetry treasure, Mary Lee is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup at A Year of Reading.

Poetry Friday: My Shadow

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Last Friday I shared some of my favourite poems from my childhood. I chose just three, but there were some really fabulous ones that didn’t make last week’s post, including one that ranked a few mentions in the comments: My Shadow, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Coincidentally, I’ve been aware in my many beach walks over the past few months, of how often I capture photos of my own shadow – either deliberately or not ( I call them shadow selfies, except, because they’re of me, they are SALfies).  So, I thought I’d collect up some of those photos and share them, with the poem. As you listen, see if you can spot the dolphins – a mother and her new calf, who I spent an hour walking with a couple of weeks ago.

And, here’s the poem, which is in the public domain:

My Shadow
by Robert Louis Stevenson
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepyhead,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
When I came to post this video and poem I realsied I shared a poem with my shadow once before when I wrote a poem to a Stingray I met on a walk
– and the ray’s response:
Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by the amazing Carol Varsalona, who is offering gorgeous poems and images from her Nature’s Nurtures  Gallery, as well as her ow not to Mother Nature. Head there now for your Poetry Friday fill.

Poetry Friday: Childhood Favourites

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It’s Poetry Friday and, in the midst of writing and talking and thinking about my new book baby, I’ve also been thinking about the poems that lead me to love poetry.  I spent a lovely afternoon rediscovering my favourite childhood collection, and decided to share a few, and why they appealed to me.

You can find each of these poems, which are in the public domain, online:

The Purple Cow, by Gellet Burgess

Eletelephony (which I am sure I mispronounce in the video) by  Laura Elizabeth Richards  and

Forgiven, by A. A. Milne

There are so many more wonderful poems in this treasured collection that I would have loved to share, and perhaps will in future. There is something warm and comforting about poems from childhood.  It isn’t just the words or the rhythms, it’s the physical sensation of the memories they invoke.

What poems do you remember loving as a child that have stayed with you?

 

And, speaking of warm and comforting, there are choc chip cookies on offer at Jama’s blog, where she’s hosting the the Poetry Friday roundup, with find links to loads more poetry goodies.

 

Poetry Friday: Definition Poems

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Welcome to Poetry Friday. What a week this past week has been!  I have to admit that I was very worried about releasing a new book in the midst of this terrible pandemic. Why, I thought, would anyone be interested in my little book in the midst of such awful stuff happening. But the love I’ve felt – for my book, and for me, too – has really made me remember that people need good stuff to celebrate in the midst of bad times just as much as they in the midst of good times, or even in-between times. So thank you for your well wishes, your support, and best of all your enjoyment of my videos and ramblings and sharings.

Last week, as part of my release day post, I shared a poem which I term a ‘definition poem’. It isn’t an existing form – just something I played with as I wrote Worse Things. Here’s the one I shared:

BROKEN

[bro*ken] (adj)

Ruptured

torn

fragmented.

No longer whole

or functioning.

In need of repair.

(Copyright Sally Murphy, 2020)

And here’s another:

 

BELONG

[be*long](Verb)

To be part of

Appropriately placed

A piece of the whole.

To fit in

Match up

Meet up.

Appertain

Associate

Apply.

To be apt.

(Copyright Sally Murphy, 2020)

 

If you want to see what these look like in the book (and don’t have a copy at hand) you can see the spreads in this video, which was put together for the Walker Books website. Broken appears at 0.47 and  Belong at 1.24.

 

I had a lot of fun writing these definition poems. First I identified key words or themes that I was exploring at different points of the book. Then I got out my dictionaries and thesauruses and looked at the definitions and synonyms. Then I simply played with the words and phrases, perhaps adding new phrases,  until I had a poem that I felt both defined the word and also connected with what was happening in the text.

Since I finished writing Worse Things I haven’t played with the form again, but this week I thought I might give it another go, inspired by  things seen on my daily beach walks. First there’s this one, inspired not just by the gorgeous Flo, but by all the pups I watch on my walks (including the recently departed Skipper, who is sadly missed).

Here’s what I came up with.

DOG

[dog] (noun)

Mutt

Pup

Pooch.

Tale-wagger

Stick chaser

Guide

Guard

Shadow

Man’s best friend

 

[Edited to add: yes, I do know dogs’ tails are spelled that way. The misspelling is a deliberate play on words!]

Beach

[beech] (noun)

Sandy shore

Oceanfront

Margin

Between sea and land

Coastline

Retreat

Embodiment of peace.

 

You might be able to pick the couple of lines that did not come from either dictionary or thesaurus. I especially found the definitions for beach a little inadequate for just how much it means to me.

So, over to you. I’d love to see if you have a word you’d like to define poetically?  I like to think it’s a fairly simple challenge,because the dictionary and thesaurus are a wonderful starting point for finding lots of fodder.

Not up for the challenge? That’s okay. There’s all sorts of other poetry goodness on offer around the interweb, courtesy of my Poetry Friday friends. You’ll find the roundup over on Michelle’s blog, Today’s Little Ditty. See you there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome Worse Things!

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It’s Poetry Friday – and what a Friday it is, because it’s also the release day of my brand new verse novel Worse Things. Over the past three weeks I have loved sharing with readers new and not so new my previous three verse novels. It’s been lots of fun rediscovering those book babies, and the culmination of that sharing is the opportunity to now introduce you to Worse Things.

First, the stunning cover, designed and illustrated by the amazing Sarah Davis. 

There is a lot happening in this cover – which is perfect, because there is a LOT happening in this book.  Sarah has captured key aspects of the story, and of each of three viewpoint characters.  If you’ve been following my readalong, or know my work, you’ll note that this cover is very different than those of my previous verse novels. That’s because this one is a bit different than the others – it’s for a slightly older audience, and has three viewpoint characters rather than one, for starters.

Intrigued? Want to know more? It is such lovely weather here in my part of Australia at the moment that I thought I’d sit on my patio and chat about the book.

If you look verrrry closely you might see I am wearing special earrings – I have a thing about finding earrings to match each new book. In one ear is a soccer ball, and in the other crossed hockey sticks. I’ve ordered some football ones too, but they are yet to arrive – but when they do, I’ll have a problem – three different earrings, only two ears! Maybe I’ll get my nose pierced (not!).

Want a taste of the book? Here’s chapter one:

And, because it’s poetry Friday, I thought I’d share one of the poems for you. This is one of several ‘definition’ poems scattered throughout the book. Because Amed is learning English, the idea came to me to define some of the key words, as if they are in the dictionary.  This is the  first one, which you’ll hear in the video, too.

BROKEN

[bro*ken] (adj)

Ruptured

torn

fragmented.

No longer whole

or functioning.

In need of repair.

(Copyright Sally Murphy, 2020)

This poem comes after Blake breaks his arm but, as you might sense just from chapter one, each of the three characters is a little bit broken, so it seems really apt to include this poem.

Worse Things is, as I said, out now and, if you’re in Australia available from all good bookstores. If you can’t get to a bookstore, or are not based in Australia, it is available online.

Thanks for dropping in on this auspicious day. If you would like to join in the celebration on social media, you can use the hashtags #worsethings and #readwithsally on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook.

And now, I encourage you to head off and see what other poetry goodness is available this Poetry Friday. The roundup  is being hosted by Elizabeth Steinglass who, coincidentally, is sharing soccer poems.

Have a wonderful Friday. I know I will – not only is it my book birthday, but it’s also my mum’s birthday – happy birthday Mum!

 

Readalong Post #10: Introducing Roses are Blue

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It’s Poetry Friday, and also day one of the third week in my Readalong. This week  I am delighted to invite you to read along with me (or, if you can’t easily get hold of a copy, just learn a bit more about) Roses are Blue.  Firstly, here’s the beautiful cover, featuring the illustrative genius of Gabriel Evans.

In the last two weeks I have introduced each book by sharing the book trailer but, I don’t have one for Roses are Blue. So, instead I thought I might offer an insight into the book by quoting from the excellent review librarian Debra Pearson wrote of the book when it was included in the The IBBY Collection of Books for Young People with Disabilities in 2015. 

In this verse novel for young readers, narrator Amber Rose struggles to reconcile the two sharply-divided parts of her life: before and after a terrible accident.

You can read the rest of Debra’s thorough review here.

To further introduce you to the story, here’s a clip of me reading the opening pages:

And a little glimpse inside:

In my next few posts I’ll share a bit more about this verse novel. If you have a copy, I’d love if you would read along with me – and even ask me some questions. If you’d like to buy a copy, ask your local bookstore. It is also available online. And if you’d like to chat about the book, share a photo of it on your bookshelf or anything else, use the hashtags #blueroses or #readwithsally, and tag me on Instagram,Facebook or Twitter.

This week’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Christie at Wondering and Wondering (now isn’t that an excellent name for a blog!). Head there to see what other poetry goodness is on offer around the blogosphere and to check out Christie’s very celever bird poem, inspried by Thoreau (and that hashtag: #ThoreaulyInspired – so clever!)

 

sallymurphy.com.au