A bit ago, I found something in today’s blog on Writing Without Paper. An event, activity, called One Shoot Sunday
. Anyone interested can read the full and requested directions there. Part was to credit the Photographer:
“This week, on behalf of the One Stop Poetry crew, I would like to introduce you all to Jacob Lucas, a Seattle-based photographer with a simple philosophy: to enjoy photography’s creative rewards and to shoot what he wants, how he wants.
A bit of a dabbler in all things photographic, Jacob finds his city to be a great muse, but he’s also traveled as far as the temples of Angkor Wat, a journey that launched a series of images on his blog, and memories he’ll never forget.”
Next, were directions to submit my own poetry, inspired by the image.
Autopilot
I remembered
only by pain
to look
again at simple things
only because it took effort to do them
to wake up
push thru the blanket in the mind
pulling it off sensually
efforts to avoid the slap of reality
but life on life’s terms
reminded me
i felt the breath
felt the fabric slide across my skin
stretch awake each fibre finger and toe
as I thought i wanted to postpone
awareness
firm floor under my feet
warm clothes sliding on
keys jingling down into my pocket
tea in my mouth
bright light outside
cold
the tempting scent of spring
the smile bubbling forth with that spring
reminded to have joy in each moment
bumpy wheat toast
nutty scent
beautiful tangy cheeses
fresh apple slice crisp
tender green leaves
another happy sip of tea
hiding
knowing
experiencing
wisdom
running away
maybe
they feel the same
–by elisabeth connelley, Purple Profundity
There is a depth of despair in your poem that resonates chillingly. However, when awareness of simple comforts and pleasures returns to the speaker, the mood of your poem turns uplifting with recognition of sensory details. Great challenge response! Cheers
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Thank you! Yes! What I write does tend to have sensory details and brushstrokes within it. Normally, they also tend to mean many things to many people. Some literal, some see what was going on underneath. I did learn the skill of one moment at a time at a point of utter despair in my life, and it has become a habit. So much so, that I can be reminded of times when it is advisable and pleasurable to play with it and notice each tiny detail of life! I am eternally grateful for being able to express it from time to time.
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nicely played…it paints an interesting picture…of someone in such pain that these little things seem great pleasure…i like the touch of the cloth across skin…these are certainly little pleasures we could all see but often overlook until those moments…
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I had had a wonderful night’s sleep and working think in my head. Upon waking and turning my head, I realized that the arthritis in my neck had flared, and realized that even I, who is often on sensory overload, can miss the small things. I moved back from neck to the happy sleep, and proceeded step by step, to notice each smaller thing and to be glad to be able to do it(also allowed my neck to become more flexible!). Moving instant by instant is a habit, that can be noticed by choice and applied toward anything in life, good feelings, bad feelings, and everything in between. Keeps one from having to live life as if in a play and from having despair when such beautiful creations of delusion cascade down the face of reality!
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I remembered
only by pain
to look
again at simple things
only because it took effort to do them…
…can definitely relate to these lines…like the subtleness of you wordplay.
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🙂
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Did the empty stage take you to the sensory details of life? I’m not sure where your jumping off place was although the work is satisfying and full of life in its way of covering and then uncovering. Perhaps it’s there in the theater where life is a mask to be peeled where your poetry hinges and details a life exposed. Well written.
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Thanks. The jumping off point for me, is always the entire poem image that pops into my head, becomes converted into feelings and then words that pour forth from my head into whatever instrument of output is available at a time. If I do not write quickly enough, I cannot go back and ‘fix’ missed portions. I think in pictures. The pictures have texture, scent, sound, and so on!
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The photography and the poem dance with one another, the steps intermingled. Thank you.
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I think I’d like the poem “On Femininity” with this image too! Not so sure the dance would be nice then.
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Physical or emotional pain can lead us to forget the sweetness in the little things in life. Your poem takes us through the pain directly to the joys in awareness of the things we tend to do on autopilot. I really enjoyed reading this.
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Yes! There are so many things to focus upon during an hour, let alone an entire day. How even to notice which things we do on autopilot, let alone to decide if and when anything is lost or gained from the opportunity cost.
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Really felt the reality in this poem, can’t believe this is my first visit to you…must do better!! So many emotions underlayered in the words. More to this story too I think!
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