… I think the grid was a helpful transitional stage and feel like this is getting closer to what I want, although it’s still not quite there.
Tag Archives: cold
Experimental writing workshop 2 (another edit)
Still wrangling with form …
Experimental writing workshop 2 (second draft) Comments please!
This is an evolution from my notes from last weeks writing exercise, and I need some opinions! Is this better with more punctuation, as in the version here, or less … see below.
Version 1
If you are broken I might be good enough
Pink-warm crystal next to my skin. Stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat. Sun in my eyes blind me to what stands. Chill freeze my fingers, can’t write. Rays caress me open. No gold. Why is it so hard to think about love? Heat rises from my fingertips, capillaries contract. Cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm, food in my belly, love. Two pairs of socks, fur toed boots. Waves roll in, heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam. Slide up the beach, bubble and roil, knife edged love. No more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips.
Waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you. I can stay hidden. Worship me, you say, and my worship is enough.
Wind in my hair makes me put my hood up, just like your words scar, knife marks yours wound chill at my breast. What I want doesn’t exist, what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want.
Waves roll and roll, sun seeps from the cold. Wind blows harder, fingers freeze. Still chill on my heart, sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away.
Expose my eskimo skin, grey white winter skin and hair, strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool. Bare myself for you. Will you do the same for me?
Out of place, nothing before me, line roll on.
Role on.
Roll.
Version 2
If you are broken I might be good enough
pink warm crystal next to my skin stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat
sun in my eyes blind me to what stands chill freeze my fingers can’t write rays caress me open
no gold why is it so hard to think about love
heat rises from my fingertips capillaries contract cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm food in my belly love
two pairs of socks fur toed boots
waves roll in heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam slide up the beach bubble and roil knife edged love no more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips
waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over
and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you I can stay hidden worship me you say and my worship is enough
wind in my hair makes me put my hood up just like your words scar knife marks yours wound chill at my breast
what I want doesn’t exist what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want
waves roll and roll sun seeps from the cold wind blows harder fingers freeze still chill on my heart sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away
expose my eskimo skin grey white winter skin and hair strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool, bare myself for you will you do the same for me
out of place nothing before me line roll on
role on
roll
Experimental writing workshop 2
This week is about doing an exercise from CA Conrad’s A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon: New (Soma)tics. This is a beautiful book, mixing poems and ‘exercises’, most of which are designed to take you out of sitting in front of the laptop or at a desk. Instead why not try making soup and writing with your hand in your soup? Or writing with a penny in your mouth? The Soma(tics) are about feeling and writing, writing and feeling, finding my body, coalescing the divine and the nervous system, all of which is explained better in the introduction to the book which I think you should be able to read via Amazon’s Look Inside.
The image, top right, outlines the exercise I picked, taking a crystal, throwing it on a hand drawn map, and going to where it falls to write. This is an initial draft pulled from the notes I wrote while out. I’ve consciously not punctuated or added capitals because I’m fed up with Word capitalising for me. I may come back and punctuate later but this flow seemed to fit with the thoughts and notes I created:
If you are broken I might be good enough
pink warm crystal next to my skin stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat
sun in my eyes blind me to what stands chill freeze my fingers can’t write rays caress me open
no gold why is it so hard to think about love
heat rises from my fingertips capillaries contract cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm food in my belly love
two pairs of socks fur toed boots
waves roll in heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam slide up the beach bubble and roil knife edged love no more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips
waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over
and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you I can stay hidden worship me you say and my worship is enough
wind in my hair makes me put my hood up just like your words scar knife marks yours wound chill at my breast
what I want doesn’t exist what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want
waves roll and roll sun seeps from the cold wind blows harder fingers freeze still chill on my heart sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away
expose my eskimo skin grey white winter skin and hair strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool, bare myself for you will you do the same for me
out of place nothing before me line roll on
role on
rhole on
rowl on
worl on
wowl on
ole on
roll
38to39 