I’ve been working with a group of poets on building group poems to do with grandmothers. It’s been an interesting process but it also reminds me how much poets are seen as internal egotists solitary scratchers in notepads. By listening to others we learn more about ourselves. By sharing our stories others are inspired to hear theirs.
The image above shows individuals response poetry cut up and reordered into a poem about poverty which brings up resonance of machinery, of industrialisation, the making of children, being a cog in society’s wheel. It reminds me of how far we have and haven’t come. Today everything seems connected and yet even less so.
And today I finalise my script for Cheam. I have made a found poem which involves cutting up lengthy tomes of lectures and putting them back together but in that I found a lecture by George Trevellyan about heraldry which talks of symbolic animals holding power. Did he ever know about Native American power animals?
Today my power animal is the moe. Delving into the poetry I’ve written to find meaning and share stories from within.