Long lost blog

November 22, 2008

I haven’t posted for ages. There are reasons. I think I miss my blog though. I miss the way it holds the stuff I write and makes it feel a little less alone. So much has been happening too, so I reckon getting back into my blog will help me process some of it. Celebrate the good stuff, talk in riddles about the rest! With this in mind, let me tell you about my MA.

I’ve started one. It’s at Nottingham Trent University, a half hour train trip and 15 minute bus from where I live. It’s in Creative Writing. First year poetry, second prose. I’m kind of up and down about it. The ups tend to coincide with writing poetry, and attending poetry sessions. The downs tend to coincide with essay due dates. I’ll obsess uselessly about the latter in a later post. Probably one written while it’s writer should be writing said essay. In the meantime, quatrains…

Every fortnight, my poetry supervisor, Mahendra Solanki sets us a poetry exercise. So far it has been to write a poem in a given form. Last fortnight it was to write a quatrain. A quatrain is a 4 stanza poem. Each stanza has four lines. It should have some kind of repeated rhyming structure running through it. I wrote one for the group which I’ll post in a moment. I didn’t particularly enjoy writing it, so it’s strange I should have chosen to write another to give to my friend Jean, who’s leaving for Jamaica in a week.

She’ll be going till February and I’ll be seeing her later this evening for a send off. So, the plan is to give her it then. Not sure it entirely works, but hey, the sentiment is there, and here it is…


While you’re gone, I’ll think about your Caribbean soup
everything fit inside a bowl, warm dish, dense dumplings –
ochre stew like a scene from a painting, some things
are made to give safety – gold eggs, inside of dirty coop.

I’ll remember your camel coat and your glamourous trilby
you and Linton, dressed for movies, scarfed from cold.
I’ll think of your bare feet, sinking into velvet gold –
while you are gone will know your safe, your trilby –

hung inside a wardrobe, instead a turban –
holding hair like twisted silk. Jean – I’ll miss you.
Will think of you outside of Bossa, that late summer, you
there drinking beer. Jean I’ll miss you, chic and urban

like a version of a priestess – oracle for spinning words with:
Woman never got a man – by going down on bended knee.
These days will never come again – were meant to seize,

Jean, when you come home, we’ll find some more to gently live.

We’ll sit inside my towered flat and shoot the past
and talk the breeze. I’ll cook for you. And then, we’ll eat.

2 Responses to “Long lost blog”

  1. Its good the see the blog unlost. Its where your poetry really lives, IMHO.

  2. pamthompsonpoetry said

    Good work, Lydia..keep posting!x

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