A New Poem, to Post or Not to Post?

Actually, I've made the decision already, but it's quite an important thing to think about. If a poem is put on a blog, that counts as being published, unless the blog is a closed one. If a poem is published, it becomes ineligible for many poetry competitions, and some publishers are interested only in unpublished material.

I considered these issues briefly, and the outcome is that I will publish the poem I wrote today, on my blog. The reason I made this decision is that I already have a good idea of what else I wish to do with today's poem, and it won't matter whether or not the poem has been previously published.

I've received some interesting comments on the poem from others which leads me to feel my ideas for it's future are good ideas. I'm not saying it's a fantastic poem, but it is certainly a poem others have connected with in good ways.

I've re-edited the poem since I posted it to the Month of Poetry site, and I feel it's improved because of the editing. So here it is for you to read and comment on - good, bad or indifferent, I'd like to know your thoughts.

Life Screens

TV is a barely heard soundtrack

to my online life -

images seen or missed

voices heard and misheard,

as the world reveals itself

on my PC screen -

my lifeline in the battle

to retain relevance in the face

of ongoing disability.

Facebook has people from childhood

re-met and ‘friended’ many years on.

Triond has articles on everything

one could ever imagine,

there are ways to make money,

spend money. Also online are places

to connect with those who have lived

and learned about the same things,

and sharing adds to the knowledge of us all.

A Poem About Oscar, the Escape Artist Who Didn't Escape

I wrote this poem for my poem for day 8 of my Month of Poetry. The idea for this poem came to me as I was writing a response to another poem on a friend's blog. http://mistakenforarealpoet.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/on-goolwa-beach-audio-visual/#comment-149

This poem that started me thinking isn't about dogs or a dog, but it uses 'dog' as a metaphor, and the poem is also set out, cleverly, in the shape of a dog.

It all got me thinking about one of the dogs in my life, a schnauzer bred by my husband Graham and I. This lovely dog had a habit that could have killed him, but his death came when his habit could have saved him, if he could have got loose.

Poor Oscar, and poor Oscar's family. A fine dog gone, but never forgotten.

No escape

The gene for escape was born with him

lurking in his DNA.

Show him a fence, he had to try it,

try himself, prove his ability.

Leap and run

was his private joy -

he loved his home, but he loved to roam,

it was his need, his greed.

He had to see what was out there

waiting for him.

The house was a safe place though -

he couldn’t escape from there,

so when the fire jumped the walls,

leapt into the house

there was no escape for Oscar.

I'm a Poet, I Wrote a Sonnet

Hello, this is the sonnet I wrote for my Month of Poetry challenge. There are many people around Australia and beyond trying to write a new poem every day for the month of January 2012. They then post their poem to the Month of Poetry website.

So far I'm keeping up with the challenge - I've written a new poem every day, and duly posted it to the website. The quality of my poetry is a little uneven perhaps, but at least I'm keeping up. This is all about Quantity first, and hopefully Quality will come!

Anyway, here's the Sonnet I wrote. It's far from perfect, but it follows at least some of the rules for a Shakespearean sonnet.

Changing times

Your working life slowed by broken shards

Of good intentions and easy promises shattered -

It’s plain to see the dole queue’s on the cards

And the wrenching loss of love and things that mattered.

You hadn’t seen the crisis looming dark,

But some had seen and wondered how you’d go

If times were lean with prospects turning stark -

Your money scarce and hunger a pain you know.

Would you learn the ways of those you once disdained

And find a different way to show your worth?

The golden path that gleamed for you is stained -

If you want to move on, regroup and find some mirth -

Laugh at the things you’d done and said before,

take quiet instead of brash and love it more.

So that's my effort, not perfect, and please, if you can see any way to improve it, leave a message! All feedback is gratefully accepted.

I wrote this and posted it to the Month of Poetry website for Day 5 of the month. This has been a fun challenge, and so far I'm keeping up with the posting of a new poem every day. So here's the sonnet I wrote, it may not be perfect, but at least it's written and posted.

If you have any thoughts on how to tidy this sonnet up and make it better, please, please, please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Changing times

Your working life slowed by broken shards

Of good intentions and easy promises shattered -

It’s plain to see the dole queue’s on the cards

And the wrenching loss of love and things that mattered.

You hadn’t seen the crisis looming dark,

But some had seen and wondered how you’d go

If times were lean with prospects turning stark -

Your money scarce and hunger a pain you know.

Would you learn the ways of those you once disdained

And find a different way to show your worth?

The golden path that gleamed for you is stained -

If you want to move on, regroup and find some mirth -

Laugh at the things you’d done and said before,

take quiet instead of brash and love it more.

My Month of Poetry, Day 4

I've been writing a new poem every day in January and posting them to a website that was set up for people to do this. It's been challenging but fun, having to produce a new poem every day, and remembering to post it on the website. The poems posted there have been terrific. The poem I did today is, I feel, the best one so far.

It's not finished yet, needs some tweaking perhaps. Any feedback is most welcome!

This poem needs a title, any ideas?

Raucous birds, madly careening
through the sky. Challenging
cars to catch them, dipping past
in front with a wing wave
that says, ‘up yours’.

The saddest sight is the pink
and grey bundle lying still
on the road, matted with blood.
A flock of mourners are nearby,
still challenging the cars…

I live in rural South Australia, and it always makes me sad to see birds who’ve lost in the battle against the car. Death is all around, but there’s much life around too. Watching the birds always brings me happiness. I have a seat on both my back and my front verandas, and I love to sit there and commune with Nature when I feel the need.