A Life Of fiction LII

For those of you new to this WordPress site, this site is about me and my writing – and a little about my role-playing, as well. It gives readers a chance to sample my work before purchasing it on the Kindle store; and gives me the chance to say a little about the genesis of each novel, or about the process of writing in general.

 

More poetry to come: I still write poetry, despite the fact that I have tried to give it up to concentrate on just writing novels. I have tried giving up writing short stories, as well, but I keep returning to that format, as well.

The current collection which I’m working on is called Nectar and Nepenthe. When it is finished I will have a page on the collection, plus an example poem taken from the collection. I will put it on the Kindle store at the same time. The collection is only half completed at the moment, though, and I have no idea when it will finally be completed. Poetry comes to me; I don’t try to force the words out. It is not like a novel, where I can sit down and slowly work away at it. I need to be in the right mood to write verse. It might be completed in a week or two. Or it might be several months.

Anyway, here are a couple of poems as a preview of the work:

 

Hungover

 

The Saturday morning hungover stagger across the green

Blink at the eastern brightness and wish you had shades

You scatter the starlings into hasty flight

They alight on a bungalow roof

Complaining of being disturbed

But as long as you’ve got your two ton paper

(Full of supplements to be instantly recycled)

And your coke then you don’t care.

 

Butterfly

 

One dream I was a newborn butterfly

From chrysalis I’d just emerged so bright

On wings of crimson red I took to flight

I fluttered up beneath a summer sky

I flew from rose to golden buttercup

Alighting briefly, just to sip a dram

And never once I wondered who I am

All summer long I would just fly and sup.

And then I dreamt that I was mortal man

Alone, asleep within my broken bed

A pillow held loosely over my head

My breathing shallow and my forehead wan.

And now I am awake, but wonder why

I am a man and not a butterfly.

 

I am also working on a couple of themes collections. One of those is The Planets In Haiku, where I intend to write a haiku for each planet and satellite of the solar system. That collection is still very much in the planning stage, however.

The other themed work is Sherlock Holmes In Haiku. I am trying to distil down to their barest essence the short stories of Holmes and Watson which Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote. It is more of an exercise than anything else, to see if I can still have anything recognisable of the tale when it is reduced to a mere seventeen syllables.

Here follow a couple of examples from that incomplete collection:

 

The Red-Headed League

 

Jabez Wilson, fool;

Copies facts while tunnel dug;

Holmes stops Clay gold theft.

 

The Empty House

 

Ronald Adair shot.

A gambler shoots a dummy.

Moran caught. Holmes back.

 

That is enough poetry for this post, I think. I will try and talk about something entirely different next time.

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