I would like to write bits and pieces and see where it takes me. And see what others think. A scary thought really. Is a writer in control or does the blank page dictate what appears next? Let us see.
Having tried to write for the past nine months perhaps I understand a little more.
I started to write a book but was defeated by its complexity and its lack of dynamic.
I wrote short stories that gave me some satisfaction in their completeness and shall persist when ideas come to me.
And, to my surprise, I felt compelled to try to write poetry.
The poems, be they good, bad or indifferent, often disturb me with their darkness but I shall continue to try, even though I find their writing overly intense.
I have continued to write poems, reflecting what I do and think about, but also influenced by the news we are bombarded with every day. Media moves from crisis to crisis and horrors disappear from our view when its attention span takes it elsewhere. How well informed are we?
Below is a recent poem, with its original title. Its context, I hope, is obvious. I listen to politicians. BUT….if you live in a democracy….
Legality without morality is not acceptable!
Judgement of Solo Man
On the first day
One of my enemy was standing at the cliff edge
In his left hand he held a small child
In his right hand he held a gun pointing at me about to shoot
I shot my enemy
Both fell to their deaths
On the second day
Two of my enemy were standing at the cliff edge
In their left hands they each held a small child
In their right they held a gun
I shot them both
Enemy and children fell to their deaths
On the third day, fourth day, fifth and sixth days….
On the seventh day
I feared for my soul
I lowered my gun
The children played in the streets
I am feeling tired and shall take stock a while.
And then the UK election campaign arrived and I became irritated and started blogging again.
Well, just over three years of blogging now. About a dozen short stories that I’ve very much enjoyed writing, but only when an idea comes along, and some comedic satirical stuff based around alter egos Mike and Bernie down the pub. Meanwhile, I’ve continued in my attempts to write poetry, compelled by contemporary events or by my own experiences, or thoughts on life, love, death and God. Enjoyable but disturbing. And recently I’ve tried to identify my ‘favourite’ 40 poems, those that I think better of, with a view to perhaps e-publishing. In truth, though, all this writing has been mainly, selfishly, for myself, perhaps to understand me a little better after all these years.