On my own…..

I am lost, searching, forsaken
I wonder where I belong
I hear distant memories whispering

I see a beacon looking for me
The naked one inside of me
I want a map of you
I am lost, searching, forsaken

I pretend I know where I am going
I feel like Baked Alaska
I touch the distance between us
I worry time will not wait for our truth
I cry at the broken things around me
I am lost, searching, forsaken

I understand there is no going back
I say we create our destiny
I dream of Fairy Tale endings
I try to believe in me
I hope we will find each other
I am lost, searching, forsaken

My sun is out of the clouds again..  it’s cold but bright and hopeful…

I have a camera…..I have been playing..!!  and I got my Flickr link working here….

I fell in love with Cat Stevens this morning, and can’t stop listening to The Wind…. my guitar wants me to learn to play it…. I am copying the lyrics here, because they are worth the trip….

The Wind

I love these mornings, I like it best before it gets light, and the sky is kind of grungy. I think the fact that I don’t have to get up and work also helps the, lurve the Universe and everything in it.. feeling!

I always found for me that this time of day is the best for tapping into my creative energy. To try and make the most of this, I start something, poetry, developing photo’s, whatever, and then go with it for as long as possible without letting my left brain kick in. This means I don’t do anything that requires being logical, I try not to answer the phone etc, because once I have to employ too much of the other side of the brain, I tend to lose focus.  My mind is kind of on this little cloud space!  I do sometimes do this during the day too… especially on car journeys when I am not driving. Oh and I tend to stay in my PJ’s… but that’s just an excuse.. pyjamas are my very favourite kind of clothing.

Talking of which, I am thinking of getting rid of all my clothes except pyjama’s….. then I will have a good reason to wear them everywhere..

I recently had a long discussion online, about the fall (or not…) of poetry as an art.

The talk was mainly based around how poetry has changed, and moved from the traditional forms… and some people believe this is a bad thing… I am not one of them…

I love poetry.. I love words… I love people’s ability to use words to move me emotionally… or to convey something, better even than a photograph…and I don’t care what form those words are in, if they work.  I am excited that so many people today want to write, and that the internet has given them an outlet to express themselves… I am especially grateful to the poets of today… because you move me….. and you are keeping the art alive and encouraging others..

Quite recently I got invited to Plurk…. this poem is dedicated to Plurk and Plurkers….

The Plurk Poem

I never was on Twitter
although I heard the odd word…
I didn’t feel like talking to twits
and I have a phobia of birds

But one day I got an invite
to join a friend in Plurkdom
No twittering feathered friends here
just a monster with a bone for a bum

I wasn’t too sure at first
if I really wanted to plurk
so for the first few days
I didn’t do much except lurk

Plurking can be confusing
especially with a brain like mine
I am never sure whether it’s morning or night
or where I am at on my timeline

On Plurk they pay you in karma
it really can be a bind
in fear of losing this stuff
you forfeit life of the other kind

It soon becomes quite addictive
once you start to follow
yesterday runs into today
and some of us plurk in tomorrow

I began to look for Plurkers
with whom I had stuff to share
Olive oil, photography, poetry
the love of my life could be there!

I found a photographer and a poet
and guys who make mouthwatering food
Lots of delicious links are shared
and occasionally something rude!

There are photo’s of beautiful places
and the yummiest chocolate cake
the techies and bloggers rub noses
with knitters and gamers and rakes

You meet interesting people on Plurk
the wonderful and weird are all here
There’s Oscar and Dylan and Charlie Brown
and even William Shakespeare

So if you need some added spice in life
or just an ear to bend
Come dwell for a while in Plurkville
I may even make you my friend…!

I have been involved in a very passionate and life long love affair with poets and poetry, and so today is something to celebrate indeed…..

It is National Poetry Day here in NZ… I was lucky enough to be able to attend a live poetry reading in Nelson this evening. It was poetic indeed sitting outside the House of Ales, under the full moon with a glass of mulled wine to keep the cold at bay. We heard some neat poets, including Mark Raffills, Rae Varcoe, Cliff Fell and Rachel Bush…  the variety of themes worked well. It’s nice to know that poetry is still very much alive and recognised, although in a town with a population of 43,000 only about 40 attended the readings, a little sad as Nelson is often considered the Art capital of New Zealand.

Montana invited people to share their poems with the public on their website….. and I saw poems posted on blackboards at a couple of bars in town.

I wish we had more days like this, poetry is looked on by many as a thing of the past, but did people really have more time to stand and stare then? Thankfully for the poets and poetry lovers there are people out there trying to shout out about our art on the web…. I love Got Poetry

To end in a quote from yesterdays newspaper:
quote Jessica Le Bas:

Poems are small stories, tightly bundled.

They are puzzles, sometimes in foreign tongues. The pleasure of poetry can derive as much from the unpicking, the decoding, as from any notion of meaning. The sounds, that juxtaposition of rhythm and rhyme, are a far older joy than our need for logic.