Writing workshop.

What a hot day to get up early and go to a poetry writing workshop. Hosted at BArts in Hartshill, Stoke-on-Trent.

Our writer had come up from Birmingham for the day. She beat boxed the sound of a thudding heart as she talked about nerves and performance anxiety. Then we did a series of tasks. First of all we split into groups of two and interviewed each other about our personality and likes and dislikes. I came up with things about whistling my cats or that I would fight off zombies with an umbrella!

Then we made up a poem with the phrase he/she/they are then the words we had answered with… It was interesting.

She is sponge

She is fighting with a brolly

She is fish and chips…..

It was strange but funny a bit bizarre.

We did more but I’m too tired and hot to remember!

Bizarre?

No it’s a friends knee!

My friend was wearing a pair of trousers with abstract cats on it. At one stage the folds in the cloth made it look like a giant, one eyed alien cat was staring at me.

I can imagine a world with different coloured beasts, each of them monocular or cyclopean. Perhaps they have no need for binocular vision, especially if the planet is always foggy so you never get to see great distances. Or an ocean world with dim views of reefs full of eel like creatures? Colours would be similar to the way octopuses or squids change when attacked or showing emotions.

Whatever you want to think, but I do like the bizarreness of this photo.

Ghost in the glass

Can you see my face?

Looking in to your space?

A ghost in the window

Trapped in the glass

An image of when

I came here last!

Little Moreton Hall

Tudor house

I was here a while ago

And I saw your face.

I was startled

Not my reflection

But an old woman

Dressed in silk

The colour of lemon.

So strange to think

You may see me

I see you too

Bizarre

I shout Boo!