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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Nine — Landscape, Found Poem, Enumeratio

Virtual Landscape

Winner-takes-all

Sitting on a similar pile

Plainly

Every minute of every day

Ever more atomised, more fragmented, more individualised

A libertarian’s wet dream

Thoughtful contrarian

Enough dirty cabs

Certainly economically

‘Sharing’ economy

Astonishing numbers

Existed recognisably

A brave man

Stratospheric numbers

Nascent network

Compounding existing inequalities

This Faustian deal

Undreamt-of

Personally, socially, culturally

Winnowing away

Catalyst for change

A great tool for persecuting people

Quite disturbing and problematic

Profound, structural change

Many-tentacled

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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Eight — Drawer, Ode, Apostrophe

On days when I suppose that I should rest
I often feel the urge to build a nest
To rifle and to sort and to explore
The contents of my attic full of drawers.

What treasures lie within those plastic beds
Where baby clothes and high heels rest their heads
Surrounded by a fortress, soft and wide
Of tired sofas lying on their sides?

Perhaps one day the work will all be done
And I will have my afternoon of fun.
Oh, what lovely secrets do you store
Piled up high upon the attic floor?

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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Ten: Future, Sonnet, Chiasmus

Five Years

He asked me all about my five-year plan
As though that’s something everyone has made
I ummed and aahhed and mumbled something vague
About organic growth and being paid.

The truth is that I never want to tell
I’m always waiting for a fun surprise
To lift me out from under life’s mundane
And gentle ebb and flow, into the skies.

I find it all-too-sad to just admit
What life would be without that strange delight
Of unexpected twist and turn and leap
The things that keep us up awake at night

So I refuse to plan for five years on
But hope the Euromillions to have won.

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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Six: Hero(ine), Ballad, Epistrophe

Fallen

The tallest man in all the world
He raised us to the sky
The bravest man in all the world
With wit so sharp and wry

But charm and lies are each a face
A gold coin has to bear
But charm and lies, they turn to ash
Carried in foul air

The cruellest man in all the world
He smashed her on the floor
The coldest man in all the world
Our hero nevermore.

 

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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Five — Fog, Elegy, Metaphor

Warmth gives way to blackness
Something I may never recover
My memory is under a blanket of wine
Or it was a bed never made

Sunlight cuts through my head
Astringent. Cleansing.
Only after bitter medicine
Can I begin to heal

Elegy as a concept – fine. Elegiac was just too stressful. I need to figure out how meter actually works before I really have to use it!

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Writing 201: Poetry, Day Four — Animal, Concrete Poem, Enjambment

Give a dog

Baby and Baby
are singing again. My favourite.
Knick-knack, knick-knack, knick-knack
Paddy-whack, paddy-whack
Oh! Go on! What’s
next? Something
for me? Tell me!
I need to know.
I know – I’ll sit.
Sitting’s good.
I can’t keep my
tail still. I’ll roll
over. That’ll do it.
They’re not watching me so
I’ll speak. Now they’re cross. I’ll lick
faces to say I’m sorry. Yum
Tastier than treats.