Tag: poetics

Sing a song of ninepence.

Sing a song of ninepence,

we’re all going to die

Mummy caught the budgerigar

and baked it in a pie.

 

Whilst the pie was cooking,

she made the kitchen clean

and served it up for dinner

with custard and ice cream.

 

Dad was in the garden shed

Sharpening his tools

The kids were in the bedroom

Polishing their shoes.

 

The cat was in the dining room

and stealthily- I kid you not

Upon the table it did leap

and stole the blooming lot.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

 

So for d’verse poetics we were challenged to write a Kafka-esque children’s rhyme????? Oh my.

I chose this phrase for inspiration-

I am a cage, in search of a bird

Moo Indigo-the ballad of Doris and Flo.

We are the trailer cows

Feel free to have a browse

It’s so fine to have you near.

 

Whenever you are feeling low

Take a breath real slow

And know we are here to cheer.

 

We munch and chew our cud

Wherever we are stood

We have no worries or fear.

 

We like it by the trailer

From here we can see who mailed ya

And our presence brings you here.

 

We like to swish and moo

We’ll always make room for you

Just don’t stand too near our rear.

 

Moove over Duke-love from Doris and Flo…

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is intended to be fun. It was written for d’Verse poetics and inspired by the beautiful and emotive photography by Sharon Knight. This image was entitled Trailer Cows and was from https://sunearthsky.com/

We were given permission to borrow the images.

I liked all the images and would have enjoyed writing about many of them but this one captured my imagination the most. I was taken by the two cows, whom I named Doris and Flo.

 

Familial traits, the signs we try to hide.

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God rest your soul

The sins of the father shall be forever imprinted on your weary brow

He filchered and fettled and frolicked in the sun

Leaving behind a string of homeless wives and penniless sons

These faults are incumbent on you and you will falter and fail

Unless you take heed of the signs and learn the lessons.

Give constancy care and compassion

Avoid adultery and count your blessings.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

For d’verse poetics, the challenge was sign.

 

 

Transcendental Glory at Morecambe Superdrome

Echoes in our heart and footprints in the sand

Staccato and tremolo of Tijuana brass

Morecambe Superdome with Don Lusher, a silver black Scirocco

Alan Tomlinson Conductor and lead of our bluesy big-time band

Children of Sanchez, superb shrill of trumpet solo

Transcendental glory in times gone by.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

This was my treasure for the poetics challenge. I wish I could let you hear Alan Tomlinson playing Children of Sanchez…. mind you to hear him play anything was a gift. His repertoire and range were exceptional and his passion for music and desire to pass it on to anyone especially young people were equally as exceptional. I played with the LCBB from about 1981-1985….

It was the most magical period of my young existence. As a young trombonist and big band member it was the pinnacle and zenith of my life and career. We played at the Morecambe Superdrome and supported Don Lusher…Stardust was his melody… and I had made it. This was the moment of exaltation when you know that it just doesn’t get any better and Alan Tomlinson hit that note in Children of Sanchez and you know this is the moment in life that you were born to notice. Transcendental Glory at Morecambe Superdrome.

Prose poem at the bar….all at once….it was a complex week… my memento..

Web about Alan Tomlinson…

Stuart GRILLS AND ALAN tOMLINSON

memento

prose poetry

 

For both poetics and prose at the bar…

 

Nostalgia

And so we came home to Eden

But Eden wasn’t home anymore

And we had grown out of it.

Seedlings nurtured by parental love

Branching out reaching out towards a world

Where Eden wasn’t familiar

And we had no place to call home.

 

Just an intimation an emotion

A security which represents home.

And then we asked the question

From the sudden realisation

Is home synonymous with kindred love

Is kindred love home?

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

many-paths

This post/poem was added in response to d’Verse Poetics which took a closer look at the work of Ally Saunders.

d’Verse Poetics

The image that I responded to was this one, which is entitled Many Paths. I believe that I have travelled along many paths and have stumbled many times and however hard it is to journey down -my latest path is leading towards my kindred home.

#d'Verse-Poetics: Ally Saunders – A Closer Look

Crossing over

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Here I stand cap in hand

A lifetime before me

And a lifetime behind me

And in the lamplight the path isn’t clear.

 

Here I lean upon my wooden bridge

Subdued memories ripple downstream in the wake of yesterday

And if I cross- hail what tomorrow brings

Shadows or sunsets in the evening?

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

For poetics d’Verse

d’Verse poetics abridged

Image– my mum and my daughter Ellen at St Annes, Lancashire. Mum was called Anne…

The lifetime behind me is my mum, whom I left behind and lost when I came to NZ, the lifetime before me is Ellen my eldest daughter whom I leave behind when I leave NZ to return to England.

 

Te Matau ā Pohe

It was a crisp clear winter’s morn

The town was still waking

The bridge was awash in early morning glory

Breathtaking beauty in a moment

Of luxury and peaceful contemplation

These moments are cherished

The moments where our existence

However minuscule is in perfect harmony

With the world around us.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

Te Matau ā Pohe is the name of the bridge in Whangarei, it was opened on Saturday 27 July 2013. The bridge spans the Hatea River from Pohe Island to Port Road. Its name means the fish-hook of Pohe.

The symbolism of the fish-hook, it represents strength, good luck and safe travel across water.

This was written in response to d”Verse poetics. Link here:

d’Verse poetics abridged

I took the photos on the morning described, I had taken Ellen to work very early one winter’s morning and just had to pull over and take in the beauty of the moment.

#d’Verse

 

Deserted

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Deserted
“APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”1
I waited and you didn’t come, it got colder and darkened days rolled into darkened nights
The numbing loneliness consumed my every optimistic thought
Extinguished every light that burned within.
The embers of our love were dying as the frozen ground began to thaw.
It should have been a time of hope, snowdrops heralded the spring’s swift approach
But these bones are old and our love is cold- but a distant memory
Cherry blossom parades her poignant pinks for a newer generation.

  1. This is a direct Quote from TS Eliot, “The Wasteland” I didn’t take it from a book, I carry it with me in my head.
  2. I think it is one of my most favourite poems – I love the Thames maidens.- I like the changes and the desolation, and the history and the symbolism. It reminds me of the wind blowing dust over the landscape and burying the present.
  3. This is for Poetics at d’Verse.