Poems written after a visit to The National Space Centre Rocket Tower

Another poem written after visiting the National Space Centre at Leicester.

Blast Off

Standing alongside

That silver rocket,

Power and Grace

Displayed with a spirit.

Man-made, massive,

Four stories high.

Imagine ignition.

Imagine it fly.

Black streak, Blue Streak;

Their names speak to me.

Excitement embodied,

My mind wandered free

Count down commenced

Imagine the tension.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1;

Blast off. Action.

Just watch it go.

In the Rocket Tower at the National Space Centre stands a massive Black Streak Rocket; one of the last designed and built by the UK. It seems to be built out of aluminium and gleams with a silvery colour. It actually stands next to a Thor Able rocket from the USA which is painted, I know which stood out for me. You can stand at the foot of the rockets and look up to see the topmost sections. A lift takes you up four floors so that you can appreciate the whole length of the rockets. They truly are an amazing sight.

Poems written after a visit to The National Space Centre

In fact only one poem so far but I am hoping that a little editing will provide at least two more from this visit. This first poem was inspired by the Drake Equation, created by Dr. Frank Drake to stimulate intellectual curiosity about the universe around us. In effect it sets out to calculate the number of planets with life which may be capable of contacting us.

The equation is usually written:
N = R* • f_p • n_e • f_l • f_i • f_c • L

It looks fearsome but is really quite a simple concept buut does need some enthusiastic guessing to find an answer. I wonder will we ever contact life if it exists "out there". Here is my poem.

Inspired By The Drake Equation

Our Earth alone
Of nine sister planets
Gave birth to life
Or so we think

Stellar cousins
In uncounted numbers
Exist in the void
As we all know

Each of these suns
Planetary potential
Harbouring new life
Or some do think

Distances vast
Need lifetimes of travel
Holding their secrets
Unknown to us

Never to know
Always destined to wonder
Such a difficult call
Or so I think

As I said above there may be one or two more to come from this visit. I was cetainly flooded with ideas but too many conflicting false starts at the moment. Give me a little time and we shall see.

There is one thing which stands out for me from this, it does not have any rhymes! This is something new for me; either the reading of modern poetry is affecting me or the experience with Haiku has left me feeling a little freer with my poetry. Time will tell if I lapse to my roots and start rhyming again, although I am sure that I will.

 

My First Haiku - and more

I wrote this post a while ago, but it never got published,, staying in draft. I have now published it as written so it is somewhat out of sequence.

I have been toying with new formal poetry forms and this is such a popular form that I though I ought to try it out.

Poems arise from words

And words will live forever

Forget me not

The Haiku is of course a japanese form, which has three lines with 5 / 7 / 5 syllables to give a total count of 17 syllables. Otherwise there are no rules. I believe that the original subject of this form of poetry was nature or natures effects.

Red flowers abound

In a battle field of old

Blood colours the earth

I find this such a "deep" form, in that the words must take on such a lot of meaning. I really think that this could have a major influence on my poetry. Up until now my style has been almost conversational withou much though for these deeper meanings. I have tried one or two abstract poems (or something along those lines ) but this I think will have ultimately more effect on my thinking about poetry and hence on the poems I write.

Inspiration grows

Poetry brings new thinking

I improve my skills

I am not sure that these are any good but I am creating them in real time as I write this post - it was originally only supposed to be about my first Haiku.

Light fades with sunset

Hail the coming of the night

Now wild creatures rest

Now this is getting silly, I think it is time that I stopped and took stock of exactly what it means to write Haiku. But I have one question, "Does Haiku have a title?"

The Clerihew - another poetry form

 Well if I have to say so myself, writing poetry to a different format seems to have released a torrent of new ideas.

I decided to try another form and see if the change did me some good creatively. Which one I wondered. The answer was presented in a new Squidoo Lens on the subject of The Clerihew, I came across whilst browsing. It is a humerous or whimsical format a format invented by a Edmund Clerihew bently. Basically it is a four line poem, with a rhyming sceme of AABB but no metre or syllable count restrictions, the lines often having irregular length.

It is often biographical; written about a person, and the first line should contain, or consist solely of that persons name.

So, my first two examples are from the world of pop music:-

You'll be aware that Mick Jagger

Despite his wrinkles has a swagger

But looks are deceiving

Just look at the attention he is receiving

and the second uses the cockney rhyming slang, Hank Marvin = Starvin'

Starvin' Hank Marvin

Gets my feet tappin'

He's my guitar Hero

All others rate zero

And this one in honour of the olympics

Consider Sir Roger Bannister

Raised to knighthood from just a mister

In championship style

He ran a four minute mile

I will be looking hard at other forms to widen the scope of the poetry I am writing. The discipline seems to work for me.

Haiku Poetry - A New Challenge

Although I was finding a poem-a-day was a drifting, it was not the lack of ideas. The number of Haiku, written in one day, below shows this I bellieve. Maybe the challenge was just running out of steam after a few weeks. Miss one day and it is easier to miss another. As the missed days mount up it becomes easier to miss yet more. A form of procrastination perhaps?

Or perhaps it was finding the time? I was creating Haiku in very short breaks or whilst walking along. I found it easy to remember the three lines and write them down in my notebook in seconds. Whereas, longer poems need to be recorded and edited more fully; sometimes several times before considering an initial posting.

Maybe it is a compounding of both reasons.

Or maybe I am analysing things too much?

What ever the cause, I need to find the time each day to write. I have been writing poems in my notebook as I go – on the fly as it were. Maybe I should be capturing ideas and use them later at a time set aside for the poem. At least this way there is no excuse for procrastination. If the notes don’t work, then use some of the many prompts I have been collecting in the last post.

Whatever, here are eleven Haiku which I wrote yesterday. I have been toying with this poetry form for three days and they do seem to come particularly easily. Of course whilst enjoying writing I am unsure about wether I am staying true to the themes and "rules" of Haiku, see Haiku Heights  a blog giving weekly prompts for Haiku (what else?) and gives a definition and rules for various Haiku (?) forms.

One question; Should Haiku be titled?

Warm sun, bright blue sky;
Holiday season arrives.
Sad; my work begins.


Happy tree gives shade,
Relief from the burning sun
Rest awhile; give thanks


Silver trunk grows straight
Whispering leaves, wind blown
Silver birch grows tall


Relax time passes
Your turn will come, learn, enjoy
Anticipation.


Harsh words cause real pain.
Take care speak gently my friend,
For pain brings harsh words


A gate stands open
Will you enter discover
Its destination


Mysteries abound
Dark forces intent on harm
Meditate; stay calm


Original art
Born within the artist’s mind
Creativity.


Existence is now
What came before is unknown
Accept and believe.


Faster, faster still
Rushing getting nowhere fast
Slowdown, relax, live


Modernity rules
Excuses many faux pas
Give me the old days

Hope that you enjoyed reading these and if so please come back as I intend to carry on creating these little poems. You can also read more about my challenge ( a poem-a-day) on my Squidoo website, A Poem-a-day. Thanks for getting this far.

Oh yes, I have just added a networked blogs widget, why not follow this blog, ans show it a little love?

How To Write A Poem when you are stuck for ideas.

I have stalled a little in my quest to write a poem-a-day. So as I was browsing the internet I tried to find if there were other poets out there doing the same kind of thing. Several sites had challenges to write a poem-a-day for poetry month (April), and these usually supplied prompts for each of the days of the challenge. Unsure wether ti force myself to get started again by using some of these prompts. So far I have let a subject arise as inspiration strikes, I think it may well be more difficult to write to someone else's prompt but may give it a try just  to see how it works.

examples are:-

30 day challenge to write a poem a day, with prompts

Poetic Asides, on Writer's Digest has a similar project

Creative Writing Now has hundreds of prompts

I will let you know how I get on.

A site I have found which is aimed at blogging poets is Poets  United which has a directory of many sites with weekly or daily prompts for poetry. I should always have enough ideas with this collection. There are also many other good sections to this site and I will be taking some time to  make sure I become familiar with them all.

There is a list of 12 steps on WikiHow to help with writing poetry, including how to spark ideas.

Hopefully more new poems for the next post.

New poems, The Thursday Bus and A Water Fountain

I am posting new poems here (of course) and also on Squidoo, A poem every day explains the project and why I started it but also has a few new poems which are not to be found on this blog. THis is because of the need to minimise the same text on different sites which Google does not like.

There are two new poems in this post, the first is another which came about because of a dearth of ideas -however I think it has actually come out very well. This was one where I wrote out the structure (the main ideas) without considering the poetry. The editing later brought the poetry into existence. This is not my usual way of working and happened because I wrote it walking from the bus stp to my home, a walk of about 20 minutes. I would never have remembered the ideas if I had not noted them down in my handy notebook. It has been through several edits so far and may under go more, but here it is as it exists at the moment.


THE THURSDAY BUS

Every Thursday without fail
I catch a bus at eight;
Unless the bus is not on time
And then I have to wait

When I board the Thursday Bus
I always see this man;
Born in the Caribbean,
He’s far older than I am.

We nod and greet each other
Because we share the bus,
And for a few short minutes
Are friends, the two of us.

The differences are obvious
Nationality and years,
But one more differential,
A belief in god he wears.

I’ve never understood the need
Although sometimes I’ve tried
To believe in something greater,
 A supernatural guide.

He sees his Lord in everything
So should I envy him?
For old and poor, or so it seems,
He wears such pride within.

In the little time I see him
He seems to be fulfilled.
A wonderful achievement
To be so strongly-willed.

The Thursday Bus soon stops for me
I leave him on his own.
His journey takes him far away
On the Thursday Bus alone.
As the poem says, Returning home from work on a Thursday, I have to catch a bus and I always meet this old, West Indian gentleman. We make small talk to pass the time and he often brings Jesus into the conversation. I only travel a few stops before alighting and leaving him to travel on.

The second poem  was inspired by a photograph I took whilst on a weekend trip to Yeovil, Somerset. Seen at Lytes – Cary Manor. Somehow the poem doesn’t seem to be finished, I may yet come back to it complete the piece.

On Seeing A Water Fountain
Water bubbling from an urn
Falling in an arc returns
To the pool from whence it came.

Splashing on it’s joyful way
Wets the statue in it’s way
Singing as it finds its home.

Such a peaceful, calming sound
Glad am I to be around
That fountain calling to me.

Water pumped from holding pool
Sprays the air and makes it cool
Offering tranquillity.

The days at peace, so am I
Watching water from so high
Cascade tinkling down again.

From that urn held up so tight
Stony grip maintains the height
Water falls like silv’ry rain
Playful in it’s merry game.

Addendum: I have decided that the third line in the three line verses, should be two syllables longer. Just found that this helped to make the whole poem flow better. I will be editing and reposting in my next post. Simply shows my writing procedure, if it doesn't work then alter it.