‘Valerie’s impromptu staircase striptease has lost a little of its erotic spontaneity due to the three quarters of an hour it’s taken her to remove her thirty-five layers of thermals.’
The Mills & Boon Modern Girls’s Guide To Growing Old Disgracefully – Ada Adverse
Last week was Libraries Week and I was invited to celebrate at Live Poets ‘15 Progressive Poetry Years’ party at Blackpool Central Library on Friday. They were having a Poetry Party with poetry readings, mocktails and cake.
They were also celebrating National Poetry Day with a limerick competition and a prize giving ceremony for the best three limericks.
I entered the competition and didn’t think anymore about it, until I received a phone call from a very nice lady informing me that my poem was in the top three selected winners and would I be available to come to the party? I was already going, so that wasn’t a problem and she said what an added bonus it was. I agreed.
When I got there, the three winners were called up on stage and had to read out their poem. Third prize was called out, a beautiful poem read by Steven, or Stephen, but me and Thelma insisted it be read out again because me and Thelma didn’t hear it. (Well, I’m hard of hearing, not sure about Thelma. I linked arms with Thelma and I think we’ve bonded, through fear) Second prize by Thelma, again, lovely poem. I was mortified by this time. Can’t tell you how embarressed I felt. I have social anxiety, so this was painful. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.
So I discovered that I won first prize in this poetry competition. It was only a local thing but it was a nice surprise, or rather shock.
The theme was Change, which was also the theme of this years National Poetry Day but also, I believe it was about putting a positive slant on change and at the same time following the structure of a limerick. Beforehand, I did a bit of research and discovered that it doesn’t have to be, ‘There was an old man from wherever…’
So here is my poem
Change can be a good thing
It’s a bit like a song that you sing
The tune never ends
It turns and it bends
And there’s so much joy it can bring
I don’t like change and struggle against it at every opportunity and I thought, I have to change. I have to embrace change. I have discovered to my cost, that resisting change is not only traumatic but also destructive. So I decided to be positive, for once. Just being positive, forcing myself to be positive, brings positive changes. If you act a certain way, you become it.
‘At Live Poets, we encourage writng skills. Just bring biros, PC’s or quills. Monday plans rearrange – And join us for a change- Pioneering – Poetry fulfils!’
The poetry and writing group are having a positive impact in my life, even though I’ve only been going for a few months. It’s great meeting other creative people. That’s what I love about word press and the blogging world too. It’s very inspiring.
I also think it’s wonderful that Blackpool Library, in connection with Blackpool Council, are supporting, inspiring and encouraging creative people in the community with these events.
At my local Writers Group, part of the session involves an improvised writing exercise. We are given a writing prompt and then we have approximately ten minutes to write something and then have to read it out. Last time, we had to write a poem or story on boots or shoes, that were important to us in some way. I’m in awe of people who can write improvised poems, or indeed any creative writing that is ‘off the cuff’ and under pressure. Also, people who can just take out a notepad on the bus and start writing. I normally need a good comfort zone and lots of time to write, with no time limits or restrictions. I’ve done improv acting but never impro writing, until lately. I’m learning in that sphere and it’s interesting. Didn’t know I had it in me to be spontaneous. It’s scary but I think practice is the key. If you keep doing something, you get better at it and one day, hopefully, it’s not scary at all. So here’s an impro writing exercise I did on boots. My first ever impro poem!
I am but a thimbleful
I roam in strange hours
I sip from buttercups
And abseil from flowers
I climb to the top
Of the ivy on the wall
There’s not many pixies
Who can do that at all
I saddle a slug
And we ride the soil
Jump over cabbages
It’s not much of a toil
I’ve not lost a feather
I’m full of spice and pep
My pixie boots
Have lots of mileage yet
And when the sun is tired
And I feel sleepy too
I snuggle in the moss
And say goodnight to you.
She’s just slipping into
her sophisticated gown
It fits like a glove
Lays a train all around
The neckline is green
And the colours on the bust
Are chestnut, coffee, hazel
Auburn, tawny, rust.
We see the seasons fashions
Start to unfold
The waistline is burnt orange
The skirt is copper gold
The hemline is yellow
With warm and earthy tones
Embellished and bedecked
With pink and purple stones
Now she’s dancing on the ground
And it is her sole duty
To be the belle of the ball
This graceful autumn beauty
‘I was born with a happy nature and a happy heart. I was born with the gift of understanding people and loving them and I’ve never been unhappy. I’ve always seen the light at the end of the tunnel.’
‘Our intentions are what we produce in this life. I didn’t realise that your dreams can come true. I used to think it was coincidence but now I believe it’s the concentration of your thoughts, over a long time, that bring your dreams to fruition. You draw your own destiny towards you.’
Margi Now You See Me – Memoirs Of A Working Class Diva – Margi Clarke
I don’t wish you were here
Because…the pebble beach
The juvenile seagulls
The sand between my toes
The partly cloudy weather
The warm wine
The ice cream headache
The wise old collie
And the yappy little shihtzu
Remind me of you.
Me yesterday
Me today
It’s the Blackpool Punk Festival.
Rebellion Festival Blackpool 2018
Interesting, exciting and intriguing four day event with a great atmosphere. I hang out but I don’t go to the ‘festival’. It attracts a lot of Europeans, including Dutch and German punks. They are all sweet and lovely and polite. A lot of local punks don’t go to the festival, they just hang out by St. John’s Church or around the Winter Gardens. People want to bond or socialise or relate with like minded people. I had a chance to see P.I.L who are headlining on Sunday but I turned it down. Why would I want to see John Lydon in the flesh? He would only disappoint me. I have no interest in seeing my ‘heroes’, I would feel that it would be a let down in some way. I had a chance to see Theatre Of Hate tonight, but I have C.D’s and videos of them. Plus I’ve seen Kirk Brandon before. I don’t really get the ‘live’ thing. I just don’t get it. If I could have a decent, lively, intelligent conversation with these people instead, then I’d prefer that. What I’m concerned about though, is the young punks who are so drunk (by 9 p.m) that they can’t walk straight and are dropping their money and hairspray and lighters….and I’m wondering how they are going to get through the night. And I worry about them. I suppose I’m getting old and mothery.
There was one guy tonight and his mohican was very flaccid. He staggered over to the glass window of a shop (one of those behind me in the picture) He used it as a mirror and put hairspray on and kept dropping it. He was very drunk. He looked over at me once or twice and I wish I’d have just gone over and helped him put his hair up and sent him on his way. I really regret that because he was all alone and seemed a bit vulnerable. I hate it when I wish I’d helped people and didn’t because I dithered or procrastinated or was too slow.
Oh, well, there’s always tomorrow.
Murphy’s Law says, ‘If it can go wrong, it will go wrong’. As Thomas Hardy highlights in some of his work, Sod’s Law, in comparison, is all about the little ironies of fate, that torment us throughout our lives.
You’ve likely heard of them before and have been a victim one time or another. For example, you’re expecting a delivery man but when he eventually calls, after hours of waiting in, you will either be a) in the bathroom b) popped out for five minutes or c) a combination of both.
Your toast is always landing butter side down. But, would you still eat it, even if it’s landed the dry side down? Whichever way you look at it, it’s been on the floor. I suppose it depends on where it lands. Also, the butter could be weighing it down. Are you slathering it on? Are you putting it on with a trowel? Heavy butter could be the culprit in this circumstance.
That’s why cats land on their feet. They’re unbuttered. Butter their backs, theorectically and I’m sure we’d see an entirely different story. Although, don’t try this at home folks. I’m not advocatng putting butter on your local ginger tom, just to see if he lands butter side down.
After an hour of waiting at the bus stop, of desert wasteland and rolling tumbleweeds – three buses will all come along at once. Mummy bus, daddy bus and little baby bus. If you have a car, on a day when you have all the time in the world, the lights will seem to be permanenetly on green but when you desperately need to get somewhere, it’s red all the way. And if you wash your car on Friday, it will rain on Saturday. And after the rain, seagulls or pigeons, or some other wild bird, will find your car the most attractive perching post in the whole world. And it does rain more at the weekend. It’s been proven. It’s just the way things are.
”There is a sort of curious success to be derived from what appears to be failure, that if you end up doing something that brings you great happiness, as I have, you have achieved this, as much as the result of your perceived ‘failures,’ as of your perceived ‘successes.’
Things In My Head 