Monday, February 26, 2007

Standing With Ghosts

I stand in the footsteps of ghosts.
The hands of the clock are still;
Weight waiting to be lifted. As I am
To the next floor, where I’ll be greeted

By giggles and the tinkling of piano
Keys. To shouts of “Snap”.
The cries of brothers, the sweat of father
Eyes casting glances for silence.

As all heads bow, give thanks to the Lord
The ghosts engulfed with steam
From bowls of hot fare, that sit beneath
Folded hands, knuckles shown.

And then only chairs, tables set out for games
For lunch. For families no longer.
Only their possessions not possessed.
Their steps an echo of my own.

13 comments:

purplesime said...

I spent the weekend at The Geffrye Museum, which is dedicated to furnishings and rooms as they would have looked for the middle classes, ranging from the 17th Century to the present day.

It was at a poetry workshop organised by The Poetry Society. It was thoroughly enjoyable and has restored my faith in working in a group.

I also received my certificate for completing my Short Fiction Course. It came in the post the other day. I was both cheered and reminded of the experience, which I'm not willing to relive in a physical sense. I realised I'm only hurting myself by putting up a wall.

This - and more importantly, this weekend's workshop - has conspired to make me start writing again. Tentatively.

This is a work in progress and nothing more. It is the words that came out of my notes, my thoughts.

I leave it to you to say what you think, I've done everything I can; to do more would be to feel satisfied and that, I can assure you, I am not.

purplesimon out...

Tamarai said...

I must say that this piece touched something deep in me, though I can't really say what.

Its SOOOOOOOOOOOO good to have you back and creating again Sime!!!!

lryicsgrl said...

Hello, and nice to see/read you again, really!

I enjoyed this poem.

The last part, particularly powerful to me:

"For lunch. For families no longer.
Only their posssessions not possessed.
Their steps an echo of my own".....WOW!

ing said...

Thanks for letting us see this!

If I'm remembering correctly, your words have become more imagistic. Most memorable to me are knuckles of hands folded in prayer, I think above bowls of soup?

This kind of image is golden.

purplesime said...

tanya:

Always lovely to hear from you. I have news, all good. I can't tell you via a blog comment! Must call. Or get on chat.

lryicsgrl:

It's been too long! So glad you enjoyed it. That was my favourite line, too.

ing:

It's the first time I've wanted to share for some time. This is the first piece - and I mean the first - that I've written since December last year.

Once I took a break for 5 years, so 3 months isn't too bad!

How long you wait for the next piece I can't tell.

Anyways, yes, soup or broth I suppose in the 17th Century. I like that you guessed so much from the few words. It is doing its job as a poem.

Still a work that will progress, move on, change, shift until it finds the most comfortable place to lay down. That's my hope.

purplesimon out...

ginab said...

Ooh, there's the pronouncement from the start. I love it. And as Ing expresses so well, images are abound. I liked the knuckles, but I liked the glances, too. Nice and timid and even wet those eyes.

nice.

-ginab

purplesime said...

Ginab: Thank you, that means a lot, it really does. I thoroughly enjoyed both the experience of the workshop and the experience of writing the piece.

I have to stress - it's a work in progress.

Also, I have made a mistake in my opening comment. The workshop was set up by the Poetry School. I can't say how much I enjoyed the workshop and if anyone is interested in poetry I wholeheartedly recommend speaking to them.

purplesimon out...

Anonymous said...

It's been said that all pieces of writing are works in progress, that, even once published, there's something that the author would love to change about the piece. It happens that way. We're all perfectionists, and we're all our own worst critic.

I hope your creativity keeps flowing, and that you feel the urge to share with your many blog fans. In this Mom's life, a little more poetry and creativity is a good thing. ;)

Welcome back

purplesime said...

Crafty: I agree, there are always things that I want to change once the work is out there, especially in my professional role as a writer.

I'm also intrigued that I have many blog fans, but I'll take your word for it! Thanks for popping by, I hope to post new stuff soon.

purplesimon out...

ginab said...

Which poets (or who of them) are you currently reading?

For interesting instruction, I recommend Stephen Fry's book, The Ode Less Travelled. He's a genius but to boot, he's generous and humorous and he puts any poet at absolute ease. Truly, I HIGHLY recommend this text. You'd enjoy it!

my best to you and yours,
-ginab

purplesime said...

Ginab: Anything by the "typically-British" Stephen Fry is worth spending time with and I shall look out this book. I've been trying to think of something I can get to treat myself that is materialistic but also has worth; I think you've helped me find it.

I'm reading a range of old poets, classics and a couple of contemporaries. Just dipping in. Poetry is something I like to read on holiday, when I've got the time to extract meaning in the metaphors. Commuting doesn't really provide such a space!

I hope to get more out later this month. To post at least once a month is a goal I think it attainable. Even by me.

purplesimon out...

Metalchick said...

Hi Simon,
I know it's been a while since I've been here, but school is good so far. I'm still sad about Audioslave breaking up, but Rage Against the Machine are reuniting again. Although they're only doing four shows, they might get inspired to reunite permanently!
I just saw The Who in San Diego two weeks ago and they still Rock! Did you hear about what happened to Roger? I hope he recovers soon, so they can play in Mexico!

Congratulations on getting your certificate for short fiction writing!

Take care.

ginab said...

Hey ( no not for horses!) there's the quiet of long tables in the big library there, too. Perfect for reading poetry.

I'm trying to figure out how I can access (without doing undue favors) a rare bookroom that's here in town but on the weekends. There's all matter of special permissions when yes certainly I would like to read the Plath but particularly I seek the quiet to write.

Handy spaces, libraries.

I am so pleased you are writing though. Ultimately!