sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: The Poem Hoarder

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Last Friday, I posted my poem The Newspaper, and talked about  whether a poem can become dated or vene outdated. And I asked readers which ‘old’ poems they still connect with. I had such pleasure from the responses that I thought I’d share some of  them this week.

Starting with Tabatha Yeatts who pointed out that people like to read about other times in  the same way they like to read about other places. She shared the wonderful LP Hartley quote (from The Go-Between):

“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.

This quote itself could spark a whole new topic: that of wonderful opening lines. But I’ll try to stay on-topic here.

Michelle and Jama both agree that some poems, and poetic forms, do become dated but, Jama adds, “the truth in words of human experience, crafted with care and attention, are forever”.

Other commenters shared their favourite ‘old’ poems, from Little Orphant Annie (a favourite of Linda), to Chaucer (Kay‘s go-to). Brenda holds the “red wheel/ barrow” of William Carlos Williams close to her heart, and Michelle has always loved The Owl and  the Pussycat.  Donna, like me, was (and still is) a big fan of R.L. Stevenson, like me.

All of these posts and the surrounding discussion delighted me. But imagine my absolute joy when I learned that the post has inspired a brand new poem on the topic. here’s what Penny had to say:

.., I don’t want to let go of poems or much from the past in terms of literature. It may be outdated but it’s a part of me. And your post inspired a poem (below)! Thanks!

 Hoarder

I want to be a poem hoarder—
stacking them here and there
and there and here
in my mind.

For I never know when
a line
or a verse
or an entire poem
might bring joy or comfort

or remind me of a time
that I hold dear.

(Poem copyright Penny Parker Klostermann, 2017)

Thanks Penny both for responding in poetry and for allowing me to use your poem in a new poem.

And thanks to everyone who shared in the discussion.

This week’s poetry Friday roundup is on the Rain City Librarian blog, where Jane is hosting for the first time. Pop over there to check out more poetry goodness around the internet this beautiful Friday. Who knows, you might find a new poem to hoard.

 

Poetry Friday: The Newspaper

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It’s Poetry Friday. I hope you like my new logo for my weekly post.

I’ve been browsing through some of my older poems, published or unpublished. One of the wonderful things about being a poet, is that, if you write regularly you have hundreds and hundreds of poems, of different lengths and styles and structures and topics and even of different quality. But when I opened the poem I am going to share today, one particular thing struck me. I’ll let you read it, and then I’ll tell you what I wondered.

The Newspaper

The newspaper

has comics

and horoscopes

births

and deaths

sport

TV

weather and

advertisements

kids pages

and competitions

lost and found

jobs

public notices

and news.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy.)

Did you wonder the same thing I did? The thing that struck me is, that although this poem was written only 9 years ago, it might be a poem which many may young readers would not relate to. Why? Because printed newspapers are becoming less a part of everyday life, and a consequence of this is that even some of the subjects I mention might not be the newspaper a child might observe. And, though this thought came later, a lot of the ‘news’ in the newspaper is not new at all – because we have so much access to almost-instant news through the internet and television.

And then of course I wondered if poems really do become outdated. When I was a child, I read poems about things that were not part of the contemporary world – nursies and counterpanes in R. L. Stevenson’s poetry, for example. But what I loved anyway was the structures and the words. I loved the word counterpane long before I  understood what one was! And of course there is poetry that goes back way way way before that.

What ‘old’ poems do you still connect with? I’d love to hear.

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Jama at Alphabet Soup. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness is on offer around the blogosphere today.

Poetry Friday: First Swim

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It’s Poetry Friday and, as the weather here starts to warm up, my thoughts have turned to swimming. I’m lucky enough to be able to swim all year round in my local heated pool, and I love that, but I really really love to swim in an outdoor pool or at the beach.

When I was growing up, we lived in the same street as the local pool. That was wonderful, but the pool was not heated, which meant that it was only open for about four months of the year. SO, it didn’t matter whether it was really warm enough, or whether the water had reached a decent temperature, on the first day the pool opened I was there. Today’s poem is about that experience, that feeling. I hope you like it.

First Swim

Not a swimming photo – since I couldn’t find one – but some flowery balls of sunshine from the garden to brighten your day, wherever you are.

Summer’s here

and I rejoice

to see the OPEN sign outside the pool.

Blue water beckons

and once I’ve paid

I dump my towel and rush

to greet my old friend.

SPLASH!

Bliss bubbles and bibbles

as I plunge into icy depths.

(Poem  and photo copyright Sally Murphy)

Do you love to swim? Or is there something else that you eagerly anticipate with the changing of the seasons? I’d love to hear about it.

Have a wonderful Friday. Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Teacher Dance. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness has been shared on the blogosphere.

Poetry Friday: From the Ball of Fluff Under Your Bed

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It’s Poetry Friday and I am so glad to be posting for the second Friday in a row, following a big break. This week I was lucky enough to travel to Sydney, and to visit a wonderful school called St John Vianney’s  in the suburb of Doonside.

I was there to work with two wonderful year 5 classes, and we spent much of the day reading, writing and talking about poetry. The aim was to get them to have at least one poem drafted by the end of the day. But – amazingly – nearly every child had three poems drafted or started, and every child had two whole poems drafted. That is amazing work and left me filled with joy.

So today I thought I’d share one of my poems which I shared with the children in Doonside. I wanted to model how a free verse poem can be used to explore all kinds of topics, and to see how voice can dictate what we ‘see’ in a poem, but also how it is up to the reader to interact, and it is the reader’s experience of the poem whcih ultimately determines the poem’s reception.

I chose this poem  to use, with others, because when I wrote it I thought it was a bit-of-fun poem, but one of my university colleagues, when she read it, saw it as sad because of what it says about a child fearing their parent. She wasn’t wrong, and neither was I: every reader should be allowed to have their own response to what they read. This is an important lesson for poets to learn, whether they be in year 5 or hold a doctorate in poetry.

Amway, here’s the poem. I’d love to hear your response.

From the ball of fluff under your bed

I mean you no harm.

Honestly.

I did not even mean to be here,

brought into simple existence

by your refusal to keep

this part of your bedroom tidy.

Yet here I am,

lurking behind five odd socks

last week’s homework

and a mouldy apple core

(which I wish you’d remove).

Come midnight

I will not transform into a monster

and scare you witless

or drink your blood

or mutter and moan .

No, at midnight –

and at every other hour,

come to think of it –

I will continue to be

just a ball of fluff.

But heed this warning:

even a humble ball of fluff

knows that the time is coming

when you will shake with fear.

Yes – one day,

one day soon

your mother

(perhaps lured by the smell of that apple core)

will lift the edge of your bedspread

and see

the socks

the homework

the apple core

and me.

And then there will be trouble.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy)

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted by Brenda at Friendly Fairy Tales. Brenda’s contribution is absolutely wonderful – and you might see, as you read it, that I was amazed we had both chosen unusual voices or narrators for our poems. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness is being shared in the blogosphere. Have a great Friday and a great week to come.

Poetry Friday: A Crabby Friend

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It seems the beach continues to offer me new friends to chat with. This morning it was a crab, who made me jump when s/he moved just as I drew near. I was glad though, that s/he stopped so I could take her photo and wish her a good morning before she scuttled away.

So, of course, there’s a poem, because it’s Poetry Friday:

Now I’m off to think about the crab’s reply might be.

 

Have a great St Patrick’s Day, and don’t forget to check out the Poetry Friday round-up, which today is hosted by Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge.

sallymurphy.com.au