Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Tuesday Poem: Janet Frame's birthday poem

How I Began Writing

Between myself and the pine trees on the hill
Thoughts passed, like presents. Unwrapping them, I found
words that I, not trees, knew and could afford:
lonely, sigh, night. The pines had given me
my seven-year self, but kept their own meaning in the sky.
Now, in exchange of dreams with this remote world
I still unwrap, identify the presents;
and always tired recognition gives way to hope
that soon I may find a new, a birthday shape,
a separate essence yielded without threat or deceit,
a truthful vocabulary of what is and is not.

Vowels turn like wheels: the chariot is empty.
Tall burning consonants light the deserted street.
Unwrapping the world,
unwrapping the world
where pine trees still say lonely, sigh, night, and refuse,
refuse, and their needles of deceit drop in my eyes,
I began to write.

~  Janet Frame
First published posthumously in The Goose Bath, Vintage (2006)

See a copy of Janet Frame's manuscript for this poem at An Angel @ My Blog

Visit the new Janet Frame Facebook page.

For other Tuesday Poems, visit the Tuesday Poem blog.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Storm warning

Nothing much you can do. Batten down the hatches, and brace yourself.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Night Life

Finding a possum up the walnut tree is about as exciting as the night life gets around here, usually anyway.