sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: The Science of Poetry

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Last week’s post was a bit of a passionate rant about how important it is to share poetry, and to do so in ways that are pleasurable.

All week I have been wondering why I didn’t mention a little piece of research that I came across during my doctoral studies and which I often cite. So, here it is: reading poetry does magic stuff to your brain that reading prose doesn’t.   In short, a study using fMri (a brain scan technology) found that when participants read their favourite poetry the parts of their brain related to memory and physical reaction (like shivers down the spine) were activated. For a better explanation, you can see this news report here or, if you want the more detailed scientific paper, you can search an academic library  for the full article by Zeman, Milton, Smith and Rylance (abstract here) .

 

I love it when science proves what we poetry lovers already know – that poetry is a whole body, whole self activity. Because while we don’t need scientific proof, that evidence is great for sharing with poetry doubters.

And, while I must confess that I have not written a poem of my own this week, I figure this is a good time to share a poem which definitely gives me all the feelings.

A Quoi Bon Dire

Beautiful Sa Pa.

by Charlotte Mew

Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
But I.

So I, as I grow stiff and cold
To this and that say Good-bye too;
And everybody sees that I am old
But you.

And one fine morning in a sunny lane
Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear
That nobody can love their way again
While over there
You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.

 

Why this poem? It is  a little sad, but, for me, it warms my heart with its observations (even celebration)  of love, and how we can hold that love long after someone has left our lives. It may be a romantic love, but in my case, this week marks anniversaries of two losses – my sister and my father – and it doesn’t matter that are gone six years and one year respectively – I love them just as much now as I did when I could see them.

I’m off to read more poetry and more thoughts about poetry because today is Poetry Friday. The roundup is being hosted Jama  So if you want to activate your  brain, head over there and do some reading of your own:)

 

Poetry Friday: A Definition

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It’s Poetry Friday and it’s also April 1, which means it’s the start of National Poetry Month (NPM) in the United States. Here in Australia, our Poetry Month is in August – but I choose to think that EVERY month should be poetry month, so I am going to celebrate in April AND August, as many other months as I can – even Octember!

I thought I might start the month by considering what poetry is. Having completed a Doctorate in children’s poetry, it is probably surprising that I find it hard to give a simple answer tot his question. But, if youlvoe poetry, you’ll understand: poetry is different things to different people.

So, for me, I find it easiest to define by using a poem. I have given this definition in workshops and classrooms for quite some time – and was delighted to then be able to include it in my book Teaching Poetry for Pleasure and Purpose last year. And now, here I am sharing it with you to celebrate  NPM.

 

A Poem

(by Sally Murphy)

A poem

is a whole lot of words

a plethora of words

a smattering, a scattering

a shattering of words

thrown on a page

in carefully created

chaos

to make you wonder.

 

It’s not a definite answer – but the best poems aren’t – they leave you with something to ponder – maybe a depth of feeling, maybe a sense of joy, or maybe even just a giggle.

I’m off to wonder at the other offerings for Poetry Friday. The roundup is being hosted by Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe.

Poetry Friday: Seaside Me

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As I left the beach this morning I smiled at another swimmer who had also just got out.

‘Don’t you feel like a new person?’ she asked.

‘Absolutely!’ I replied. ‘I’m a much nicer person when I’ve been to the beach’

We chatted a little more, and I filled my new friend in on the names of the some of the fish she had seen, and I left smiling.

Back home, I pondered what I’d said though. Maybe it’s sad that I’m not always nice, but I also think it’s worth celebrating when we know what our happy-place is, and we seize opportunities  to go there.  Because if it makes me happy, makes me feel nicer, then chances are it also benefitting those around me.

And, of course, this generated this poem draft:

The Many Faces of Me

Before I head to the beach

I am cranky-me

Busy-me

Overloaded-with-thoughts-me

 

When I reach the beach

I am  breathe-in-salty-air-me

Rush-to-get-in-water-me

Slightly-awkward-landbound-me

 

In the water

I am look-at-this-me

Look-at-that-me

Wonder-awe-and-peaceful-me

 

When home time comes

I am happy-me

content-me

Feel-like-a-new-person-me.

Hope-this-feeling-lasts-me.

(copyright Sally Murphy, 2022)

 

and this, in turn, generated a further thought – I’m also a nicer person when my creativity is flowing. Any day with a swim and a chance to write is a great day.

If you don’t have the chance to immerse yourself at the beach today, here’s a video from a few weeks ago that might help.

And, when I went looking for that video I remembered this one – made when it was too cold to swim, but when I was happy just to dunk my toes:

I hope you have happy toes. In fact i hope you’re happy all over.

The thing that is going to make me happier today is visiting all my poetry loving friends. It’s Poetry Friday and 0 is hosting 0. I’m off to 0, and you can swim along.

Poetry Friday: Blowfish and Other Friends

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It’s Poetry Friday and my first post for 2022 – so, Happy New Year to you!

It’s summer here in Australia and summer, for me, means swimming, enjoying the sunshine and, as often as I can, snorkelling! I cannot believe that, until two years ago I had never been snorkelling. Now, I would go every day if I could.

Last week I drove south  verrrrrry early in the morning so that I could beat the crowds at a spot which is becoming increasingly popular, known as The Aquarium – a natural rock pool that is people sized!  And I was lucky enough to get there when, although there were other people, I had the water to myself for about half an hour. Even luckier – I spent about ten minutes floating above a beautiful octopus. I was especially intrigued by the wrasse that seemed to be following the octopus. Friends? A guard? Or was the fish perhaps waiting for the octopus to catch dinner, so it could have the scraps?

This week I was in Perth for work, and met colleagues for a swim, walk and breakfast at the beach. After we said goodbye I couldn’t resist seizing the opportunity for another quick snorkel before heading to work.   No octopi this time (though I did spot some of the tell-tale shell piles which indicate their presence) – but I was not lonely. The warmer water off the coast at present has lead to big swarms (schools?) or blowfish (blowies) which have been reported in the media and discussed in my various snorkelling and beach groups. At Woodman Point they weren’t swarming, but there were more than usual – so you can see in my video that there are more bowies than anything.

Blowies like to nibble on absolutely anything, which is not always the nicest sensation, although I have been amused when they’ve nibbled my toes in the past. Luckily, though, this week they did not choose to nibble on me, instead following me so that I felt like I was the leader in a watery game of follow the leader, and photo-bombing my videos. They made me smile, and they are, I think, quite photogenic with their big eyes and their smiles. So, all up, I feel like blowies are my friends, and have written a poem in their honour.

Blowie Friends

When blowfish puff
it means stay away
stay away
but when I snorkel
it seems that blowies
simply want to play.
Some complain
about these mice of the sea
but I can’t help
but smile along
when they
smile at me.

(Sally Murphy, 2022)

Speaking of friends, my friend Mary Lee is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup today, so swim over there and see what other poetry goodies can be found.

 

 

 

Poetry Friday: Hay(na)ku

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I may not have been sharing much poetry here on my blog, but my past month has involved lots of poetry related tasks.  I have been finishing off last edits on Teaching Poetry for Pleasure and Purpose, a resource for Australian teachers, which will be out in August through  PETAA, the Primary English Teacher’s Association.  With a blend of poems (my own and others) and practical ideas for teaching poetry in the primary school classroom, I am hoping it will be a handy resource for Australian teachers and help get more poetry into the hands and hearts of children.

Then, last weekend, I presented at the 56th International Conference of UKLA (The UK Literacy Association). How strange to be presenting from my loungeroom on a cold winter’s evening, to people from around the world. My session focussed on verse novels including my own, and how they can be used in the classroom.

The time differences made it difficult to attend all of the  other sessions – most of them happened in the middle of the night, my time – but how lovely to be able to listen, where I could,   to passionate educators all wanting to ensure every child has the best possible access to literature and literacy.

One session I did get to was a workshop run by Rebecca Simpson-Hargreaves, a UK based lecturer and fellow poetry advocate. In a 30 minute session, Rebecca gave attendees a taste of four different poetic forms – and even got us writing. Not a bad feat in such a short space of time.

One form that was new to me was the Hay(na)ku. You’ll find a great explanation, including the history of the form, here. Simply, though, a hay(na)ku is a three line poem with just six words – one on the first line, two on the second and three on the third.   Simple, huh? Well, yes and no – because of course with so few words you have to choose carefully.

Here was my first attempt, during the workshop:

Mushrooms

taste like

mud to me.

(This was a little tongue in cheek – in a previous exercise we had to argue for or against mushrooms, and so when it came to this exercise, my mind was still working on that).

Afterwards, I wanted to try again, and, because my whole day had been about poetry, the topic seemed obvious. So, here’s my second attempt:

Poetry

flows from

page to heart.

And, much later still my third attempt, after reflecting on the differences of this online conference versus the in person version, initially scheduled to be in Oxford but, of course, cancelled. because of the pandemic.

Conferences

can happen

without leaving home.

You know what else can happen without leaving home? Poetry Friday! Today’s roundup of poetry goodness is hosted by Margaret. Head over there and read her touching poem written during the Covid 19 lockdowns. And then,  why don’t you try your hand at a hay(na)ku of your own?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Friday: Autumn Rain

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It’s Autumn here in my neck of the woods, and I am in my annual state of denial about the inevitability of the changing weather. I am a summer person – I love to swim, and snorkel and enjoy the heat. I am not so keen on being cold and wet. But it is, as I said, inevitable that the seasons will change and roll through, and in spite of my objections, I always end up remembering that there are lovely things about every season.

This week is a case in point. The week began warm and bright, and on Wednesday I was able to squeeze in an early morning snorkel, at a place called Castle Rock. Here’s a glimpse of what I saw.

(Incidentally, as I was getting ready to leave, I ran into a man who was setting up his drone for some aerial footage. He told me where to find him on Instagram and, lo and behold, he posted an image from above the very spot I had been snorkelling. So, if you want to see the same scene from above, head here).

Back home, and yesterday saw a complete change in the weather, with a big autumn rain storm. I was at my desk working on a poetry resource I am writing, and watching the weather change out my window, so I wasn’t surprised when the rain came down. But I did get a giggle when I realised what I was working on just at that time. I was busily adding two poems to the resource – both about rain!  As the rain pelted down, I was entering this:

A Song of Rain

by C.J. Dennis

Patter, patter … Boolcoomatta,

Adelaide and Oodnadatta,

Pepegoona, parched and dry,

Laugh beneath a dripping sky.

Riverina’s thirsting plain

Knows the benison of rain.

Ararat and Arkaroola

Render thanks with Tantanoola

For the blessings they are gaining,

And it’s raining—raining—raining!

Weeps the sky at Wipipipee

Far Farina’s folk are dippy

With sheer joy, while Ballarat

Shouts and flings aloft it’s hat.

Thirsty Thackaringa yells;

Taltabooka gladly yells

Of a season wet and windy;

Men Rejoice on Murrindindie;

Kalioota’s ceased complaining;

For it’s raining—raining—raining!

(This is an extract from a longer poem which can be found here).

I love that this poem manages to gather the pace and momentum of a big rain storm. I also love the way it celebrates so many of Australia’s unique place names.  You don’t have to know where they are to get real pleasure from the sound of them.

You might imagine that, when I realised the synchronicity of the rain outside and the rain poem on my computer screen, that the storm took on new meaning, and I was soon giggling and chanting ‘And it’s raining – raining – raining’ .

The next poem I worked on was also about rain, though not quite as joyful:

An Ode to the Rain

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I know it is dark; and though I have lain,
Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain,
I have not once opened the lids of my eyes,
But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.
O Rain! that I lie listening to,
You’re but a doleful sound at best:
I owe you little thanks, ’tis true,
For breaking thus my needful rest!
Yet if, as soon as it is light,
O Rain! you will but take your flight,
I’ll neither rail, nor malice keep,
Though sick and sore for want of sleep.
But only now, for this one day,
Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

(Again you will find the full poem here). I love that Coleridge took the Ode form, which is usually about praising something, and turned it humorously on its head to beg the rain to go away.

And me? Having smiled my way through the rain storm, which was a good one, with thunder and lightning and torrential rain, I got back to work and then, this morning, have woken to a cool but fine day. That’s Autumn for you!

Whatever season you are celebrating, it’s the right season for poetry. And, on Poetry Friday there is plenty of poetry to be found across the world wide web. Matt is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup today and also sharing a  fun new poetic form, the tricube. I might have to tri  try my hand at one – or three.