Short Poems from a Metaphor

[Dee]

We are now on Chapter 2 of Kate Clanchy’s wonderful book, ‘How To Grow Your Own Poem’.

Please find the warm-up exercise (‘The Surrealist Game’) in a separate thread.
This thread here is the follow-up exercise. (Page 40/41)

1. Write down an abstraction that interests you, such as desire. Or a place/a time if you like.

2. Now use a concrete metaphor to define it: a person, an animal, a food, etc.

3. So now you have made an idea into a thing, elaborate on it a little.

4. Write a short poem exploring this association.

Examples:

Fame

Fame is a bee.
It has a song -
It has a sting -
Ah, too, it has a wing.

~ Emily Dickinson

Want

Want is quiet but it sticks around.
It takes a seat before it makes itself known.
Want’s eyes glint, and its tongue flickers.
Want will listen, and wait, and study,
it learns everything. It learns you.

Want smiles and soon after it laughs -
not with you.
Want mocks in whispers and sometimes
(if you are unlucky)
Want will shout.

~ Rachel Gittens (16)

[Dee]

an island
is a soft pillow
of golden sand
where you lay your head
to shut out the world
and dream of eagles
and mermaids

~ ap

[Dee]

nostalgia
is a slice of
freshly baked
crusty bread
with lavishly spread butter
and golden acacia honey
that slips from your hand
to the cold unswept floor

~ap

[Moonchime]

Oh that is truly heart-breaking!! And the floor unswept - please let it not be true! Great little poem Mz Dee even if it has made me want to rush out and make toast and honey!! xxx

[Dee]

Haha! Just don’t drop it!

The floor had to be unswept because there was no way that buttered and honeyed bread could be enjoyed the same, even if it was picked up and attempted.

A childhood friend of mine wants me to reminisce with him about things and people I can scarcely remember. He lives in the past and the past still lives around him… and he can’t understand why I can’t and don’t even want to go back there. I never liked thinking about the past. This poem explains exactly why.

[Iris]

an island
is a soft pillow
where you lay your head
to shut out the world
and dream of eagles
and mermaids

~ ap

Well, this perfectly sums up your week of bliss under Celtic skies! So very lovely. I feel the pull from the invisible eagles and the mermaids to revisit.

[Iris]

Safety

Safety is a lion at your heart-gate
A confined space where
Thoughts can’t run wild
Where bears flit between
Growling at dementors and
Caressing your soul

[Iris]

Fear

Fear is a whipping blade
A snake rattling cages
Cannibals nibbling
Nettles teased over eyes
Fear is more fatal than death

[Iris]

Comfort

Comfort is the familiar dip in the bed
Or when Italy meets France in
Gruyered macaroni
Sometimes it’s just knowing
Without expectation

[Iris]

Haha! Just don’t drop it!

The floor had to be unswept because there was no way that buttered and honeyed bread could be enjoyed the same, even if it was picked up and attempted.

A childhood friend of mine wants me to reminisce with him about things and people I can scarcely remember. He lives in the past and the past still lives around him… and he can’t understand why I can’t and don’t even want to go back there. I never liked thinking about the past. This poem explains exactly why.

What a clever way to express your back-turning on revisiting the past!
Like Mz. Moonchime, I now want to slather some toast in that golden elixir.

[Dee]

Safety

Safety is a lion at your heart-gate
A confined space where
Thoughts can’t run wild
Where bears flit between
Growling at dementors and
Caressing your soul

Love the first line already, and it only gets better. Interesting how safety is defined by not being tormented by thinking. Really liked the the image of the protective bears, both fierce and soothing, and the word choice of ‘flit’. This is great, Mz H. So concise and original.

[Dee]

Comfort

Comfort is the familiar dip in the bed
Or when Italy meets France in
Gruyered macaroni
Sometimes it’s just knowing
Without expectation

My favourite line here is the first one, so intimate and universal. Gruyèred macaroni sounds fun!

Fear

Fear is a whipping blade
A snake rattling cages
Cannibals nibbling
Nettles teased over eyes
Fear is more fatal than death

This is properly scary stuff, Mz H! ‘Whipping blade’ is awesome. Favourite line.
Can we have some more please?