Orphans of Silence: Poetry workshop with Eleanor Hooker
exquisite corpse excercise:
Two lines to choose from, the group had to agree:
1. Outside, the same darkening snowflake
2.A clock that has lost its hands
The group chose number 2, I liked number 1. We each wrote the line at the top of our page, then followed with a response and began to shuffle the paper on to the next person, this continued until we had 11 poems with 11 lines provided by each of the participants.
A clock that has lost its hands
can not scratch itself
from times of despair
only breaking open
fathomless
hanging, suspenseful on the blank hole of memories
and dreams. It dreams itself in another space
shapes its new horizons
where sons and daughters rise and leave
leaving spaces and no shadows to miss
paving ways for new life
breaking promises like twigs
sticky fingers
lines i remember and want to save:
tongue searching for substance lost
echoey hollow silence like empty boxes in storage
Lessons learned: Abstract nouns weaken a poem, use concrete nouns as it creates an image of a physical thing, allowing for specific metaphors giving the reader something to hold on to and 'see' as they read.
I submitted work that was from the writing workshop with Les in MA2, it was a piece that I felt comfortable with as I have shared it with classmates and wanted to get some outsider feedback:
you tarnish me,
my fingers are dirty,
you dirty me
I'm dirty
you're soft in a hard form
you make marks,
but not alone
you need me to make marks,
you mark me
I need you to make marks
I inhale you,
I don't want to but you are there,
In my breath,
uninvited,
tiny invasions
violations,
creeping into my orifices,
under my nails,
in the cracks of my skin,
on my skin
I need you,
I use you,
you use me to spread yourself,
I spread you,
you disseminate across the surface,
across me,
on to my skin.
Its dark,
you're dark,
you make me dark,
I use you lightly but you are still darker than the light,
I make you darker,
not darker than yourself,
You touch me,
I touch you,
we come together,
we collide,
I make a collision using you.
I use you
There is sound,
you are silent but your movement makes sound,
I move you to make sound,
you and I generate sound,
we generate,
generate sound,
marks,
dust,
traces,
little traces of touch.
I no longer have you but you're still with me.
I see you.
I feel you.
you make me dirty.
I wash. *compressed Charcoal*
It was read by Danabelle Gutierrez, a poet based in Dubai, she has a couple of books published and I have seen her perform her work so it felt like a massive privilege for her to read it. She did so beautifully. It was strange to be removed from the work in that manner but I was pleased that it was read in the tone and pace I had intended, which in itself is good feedback.
The work was likened to Richard Siken https://bodyliterature.com/2014/04/28/richard-siken/
I take any form of comparison as a complement, to evoke a memory of some thing you have read and enjoyed is a good thing I feel, in the manner that paintings are compared and added to taxonomies of style and subject.
Eleanor Hooker gave the wonderful feedback that the poem sounds like 'Jupiter', referencing the recording by nasa of the sounds of Jupiter picked up by satellites. She also explained that there is more room for 'show don't tell' providing some description is not a bad thing and can give purchase to the reader, and that I should not be afraid of the movement thats coming through in the poem.
It was then that I realised I am doing myself a disservice by keeping all this work hidden and sharing so discriminatorily. I need feedback to grow and improve; not all I will receive will be useful, not everyone with connect with it, just like the visual work and thats okay. But the two are inherently linked and need to share the same space to allow the dialogue to happen.
