The End of 3RW

Hello everyone,

Just in case people haven't moved over to my new blog I thought I would put a quick note on here to let you guys know that I have now finished my Three Random Words poetry project that I started over here earlier this year.
The final four poems are here!
I went a little over my target of 100 poems but I had a great time and I have already got the next project planned out and ready to go.
I hope everyone is well and staying warm this winter (if you're in the UK, that is!)

Vick.

More Random Words

It's been a little while now since I started collecting three random words from friends and strangers to turn into poetry. The posts are all tagged 3RW and are more-or-less in the order in which I received the ideas.

I am over halfway through my 100 word collection of poems. I have posted more than half of them on here and I have got almost a full set of words to work from.

So really I am in the final push to get some really amazing, weird, quirky, awkward, contentious words to work with for the last few. I've been getting loads from over on Etsy which has been fantastic. If I do happen to get a few over 100 I will keep going  - the idea was always to enjoy writing the poems (which I am) and to try and make me a better poet in the process (someone else can be the judge of that one).

Have you spotted the hint? I am hoping for some incredible words. At the moment I am only taking one set of ideas from each person and then when I get to the end I might go over some of the duplicates I have been given and have a go at them. If there's someone reading this who hasn't given me words - please do. Also if you know people who you think would be good at this could you please pass it along. Especially if they have slightly weird or warped imagination (yes, my fantasy/sci-fi reading friends I am looking at all of you).

I am accepting ideas here, on Twitter, Facebook, Etsy  - actually any which way that you would like to get in touch.

Thanks everyone - clearly I couldn't be doing this alone!

Vick.

5-7-5-ish

Even more haiku-ish poems. Once again I stress the 'ish' part. I do know that they are not real haiku poems but they are working for me. Here we go.

RedGreenQueen gave me "coconut, horizon, ocean" from the Etsy forums

"Melt Ice"
Coconut snow falls
over a wide horizon
into the ocean.

Alex Phillips from creatingtrouble gave me "star, harmony, warmth"

"DayLight"
His star was hidden
under the warmth of sunshine
and night’s harmony.

Joanne Waring of JoArtyJo gave me "fresh, petal, lustre" to work from:

"Wallpaper"
A fresh dance of oil
no petal untouched by the
framed show of lustre.

Emily April Scard of AprilSparkles gave me "honey, toes, cherry" to write with:

"Pure Imagination"
Rooms of honey rain
land on the toes of cherry
coloured cakes and me.

Louise Oneill from jaggedrockjewels kindly donated "spices, Japanese, flower"

"Decorations"
A spiral pattern
in a Japanese hallway
scented with spices.

All done for now. Must get back to it soon - I've been trying to preserve lots of the apples that we have in our garden so I've been busy cooking instead of writing poetry!

Vick.

Blush, Soliloquy, Ladybird, Nest

And for another batch of poetry now. This one is once again taken from my very lovely friends over at Etsy - Etsy has updated searching and so there is even more to look at again. Lots of changes and they seem to be doing a great job!

Becky from curiouscleo gave me "maternal, blush, bond" to work with.

"Home"
The colour of blush paints itself
across the empty room
spreading up to mirrored ceilings
before creeping back to a worn floor.
A maternal place – always growing
a new group of ungrateful children
creating the bond that everyone
can see – easy to make
and easy to cut straight across.

Kate from PatchworkMoose gave me "soliloquy, sunset, solidified".

A motion solidified into action
minutes go by unchecked as they listen
to a series of speeches – the main
soliloquy broadcast throughout the day.
Lines towed along and repeated until
the sunset creeps over walls and streets
into the down-at-heel market
where we wake up and live.

Lin from cloudhopping gave me 'contradictory, flourish, nest' in the blog comments to work with.

"Cuckoo"
A thin grey bird cries out at night
calling to her mate but taunting
those she needs but doesn't want.
Using the unsuspecting neighbour
who never learns but suffer at her hand.
Contradictory by nature, rarely seen
but forced to meet and exchange.
So much of their purpose
done amongst strangers - solitary until
in a nest. Better than their own.
Instinctive selfishness passed on
to thick skinned young who
flourish wherever they are placed.
Alone apart from captivated carers
unwilling helpers in their own torment.

Jane from janehammill gave me 'ukelele, ladybird, beads' also in the blog comments.

"Up/Out"
There is a tall lady - soft but solid
with tangled red hair standing
in the September pumpkin field.
Surrounded by globes she holds
a ukelele up towards the day-time
stars. Unseen but ever present.
The music starts but she isn't playing
and one ladybird lands on her
white dress, attracting its fellows.
As the run warms her morning skin
she dances - chains of beads
clattering to a different tune.

That's all for now. I've been writing more standard length as well as more haiku-ish ones which should hopefully both be up here soon.

Vick.

Isthmus, Dulcet, Hemisphere.

After the frenzy of my mini-haiku-ish poems last week we are back with 'normal' poems now. I don't think they are normal. Have I ever said on here how much I hate normal? I really do. Again all of the ideas behind the random words come from my friends over on Etsy. Links to their shops are through the shop names - go have a look and find something amazing for yourself or a friend.

Meanwhile some of these have been really tricky. 

Artangel gave me “Ethereal, Whisper, Dulcet” to write something from:

“Sweetie”

The street, quiet of cars wound to the

left to show a bright pink door.

A pure scent of hot sugar hit the passers-by

and trickled through them like a whisper promising more.

Touch, taste. Joy to follow the promise.

Dulcet songs of daisy fields

washed across the room and rolled

back towards our strained ears.

Food delivered in high platters of

ethereal tastes and otherworldly textures

making a cornucopia with plenty to eat in

a world full of easy light and bright pastel.

A home found easily and never quite

returned to more than once, never left.

Michaela & Richard of frenchandgodbold gave me "isthmus, ash, equation" a long time ago now and I have been thinking about it ever since, it took me a long time to find a way of getting the words to do what I wanted but finally I came up with this:

“Library”

Wallpaper the colour of ash and soft silk

covered the room and

seeped into the narrow isthmus leading far away.

Beyond its secrets a world of

books waiting to be found –

no longer behind barriers and alarms

but open to the dust and skin.

Only at night when the ghosts come out

to reclaim their possessions and move

the heavy drapes can the words be set free.

Ready to read.

A home turned to a museum

trapping written ideas like flies on paper.

A human equation of money

breaking the rules and forgetting

what matters from the past.

Wendyelf herself gave me "warble, crystal, hemisphere" to work with.

"Odette"
Two men work side by side in the summer
furnace they have always known.
All at once a sphere and a hemisphere
then transformed into a new life.
A crystal swan kept by his

little girl to remind her

of his hands and their wonder.

the warble of a long extinct bird

carries into the studio and the glass

shakes and mumbles but remains strong.

The past cannot get in, every single thing

is preserved by old fires and a dying skill.

All in all these were much harder than the last couple of batches but I seem to be thinking that a lot recently - maybe now we are so far through (we are approaching 50 if anyone wanted to know) I am finding it harder to get new ideas. New sets of words are starting to remind me of old ones that I have already done so I'm trying to keep them out of the poem and still find a way of working the words in. Having said that I am still really enjoying this as a way of writing and am very grateful that I have so many good ideas coming my way.

I'm still not quite there with the ideas though - I need a few more. There are some people who I am planning on pestering but if anyone hasn't given me any words yet, I would love to hear from you. I'm not doing any duplicates unless I run out of ideas, then I'll go back and use the spare sets from people who have already helped me write one.

Vick.

5, 7, 5

I was reading over the lists of word ideas that I was given and realised that a lot of them made phrases all by themselves. So sitting with a cup of iced tea and a buzzing brain I got a rather silly idea. Why not make it even harder for myself? Yes, excellent. So I started writing Haikus.

Except that they are not really haiku poems. They are poems following the 5/7/5 syllable pattern so not strictly a haiku but close enough for someone who is not an expert (I'm not).

Here we go. These are all from lovely sellers over on Etsy who have been kind enough to inspire me. Please click on their names to visit their shops - we have some great people on the site and you *never* know what amazing wonders you might find. Have fun, explore, support crafters and artists.

Julia of LoveButtons gave me "badger, kiosk, ocean".

"Sea Hut"
A kiosk striped black
and white looks like a badger
on the ocean front.

Pam of akcflowerdesigns gave me "whisper, shout, silence".

"Counsel"
The first stage-whisper,
Grief that will shout long and loud.
A minute's silence.

Jane of dovehilljewellery gave me "ambience, freedom, enjoyment"

"Night Time"
A dark ambience
the old freedom to star-gaze
for pure enjoyment.

Pam of crochetbypamela gave me "sea, baby, curiosity"

"Newborn"
A baby stares out
to sea, with unseeing eyes -
curiosity.

Magicalfrost gave me "sunshine, moment, comfort"

"You That Way"
Cold sunshine prolongs
the moment I say goodbye
to my comfort. You.

Ana of anacdesigns gave me "smile, transparent, open"

"Genes"
Transparent trees wave
from open generations
a smile from your past.

Stasya of TheStitchAndFold gave me "water, paper, fruit" in the blog comments section.

"Downtrodden"
Dripping water breaks
through the paper like rotten
fruit squashed under foot.

Sandy from angelcottagecreation gave me "spring, turquoise, coral" to work with.

"Pattern"
Spirals of turquoise
flowers form a coral reef
in Spring's lost garden.

Vicki from KarrahDesigns gave me "beauty, promise, hope"

"Acting"
Standing on a stage
his hope to promise beauty
yet no one believes.

Mandy from TheHollowbourneHoard gave me "sparkle, blue, soft"

"Crashed"
A sparkle of moon-
lit blood, tangled in soft fur
as a blue car flees.

So that is my brief fling with 5-7-5 poetry. I think there might be more, unless there are huge objections. I like working in a very specific form, it concentrates the mind wonderfully.
We shall see - I've kept the ones I have written in a less organised manner back so that they were not in with all of the Haiku-ish ones so I will pop them online soon.

Vick.

Constantinople, Pluto, Enigma, Lemon

I think this selection might have my favourite title so far. Such an odd collection. I know it sounds like this is the wrong way around but I find it much easier to write poems when one of the given words is a proper noun. It gives my imagination a handle to grab onto. I tend to build up from that, whereas with three 'ordinary' words I have to find a way of tying down everything that the words evoke when I think about them.

Poem one this time is based upon the words, "Oranges, Erratic, Constantinople" which were given to me on the Etsy forums by Naomi/Shalotte, whose Etsy shop is here. Naomi has been great on the forum so a big thank you for being so supportive as well as for some excellent words!

“Golden Horn”

Right in the heart a clock ticks on,

chiming a history of people and their 
daily habits an erratic movement of time 
that maintains changes in the city.

An ancient construct.

Oranges roll from where they are dropped

down towards the river, or another

choosing a path backwards and away from 
the tall buildings built on the foundations 
of Constantinople that remain unchanged.

Two girls skip down the streets hopping over stones

and as they travel along their faces twist,

new hair colours and an older shape to their bones

but they still smile knowing that some things will always be the same

whoever they are and whenever they breathe.

Poem #2 comes from AndiaCreations also from the Etsy forums. Andrea gave me "Patience, Pebble, Pluto" to play with and this is where it all ended up:

“Daughter of Parents”

A memory of pomegranates in a lake

shakes her as she wakes up in the darkness

without a bruise and the memories creep back to her.

She has unlimited patience and too much time,

her mother taught her too little and cannot

see her again while she mourns, weeping snow.

The field was ploughed to remove anything unworthy

down to the very last pebble.

New growth ever expanding from fallow soil

while the horses chained to Pluto’s chariot rage on

and upwards towards the coming summer.

The land and everything inside it waits.

The next poem is based around the words "enigma, clear, wisp" which were again donated from the Etsy forums this time by Rachel/flyingcheesetoastie whose shop is here.

"As Time Goes By"

Liquid reflections in a glass ripple distorting

the mirrored image within,

a couple sat on a wooden piano stool.

A clear picture of a well loved melody

hummed and then whistled or sung.

The evening ritual never a routine

for either of them as the conversation

start a new life every day together.

One wisp of hair falls down -

daydreaming its way past her chin

and tangled through two visions.

Friends pictured within an enigma,

a mystery of hand held symbols

that mean something to each one.

Today's final poem comes from the words "love, beach, lemon" by Lisa/StitchedWithLove once more from the Etsy forums. I love doing the Etsy poems but it takes ages longer because each time I get a new suggestion I spend about half an hour on each person's site looking at all their lovely items!

"June 6th"
There were fourteen grains of sand left
in her shoe, weeks afterwards.
The beach had long washed away leaving
behind grains of memories.
It had rained all weekend so that they
had huddled in the corner of a
bus shelter exchanging love tokens
while old women in pink scarves
looked on sourly at their twisted joints.
The cruel memory of a long lost life
sharp as the cut of a lemon
through bitter black tea.
Then refreshed they clamber onto
the number nineteen bus to sit tall
and enjoy the superiority of age.

That's all for now, I'm hoping to find some time during this week to sit down and write the next ones. I've got a great batch to be working on.

Vick.

Atom, Aquarius, Recycle, Alienated

More poems! Hurrah!

These are a combination of very in depth and very strange, probably saying rather a lot about my state of mind at the moment. And just so you know I’m still having a lot of fun with this, which at around the 30 poems mark is quite something in itself!

This first poem is inspired by the words “atom, hiking, Aberystwyth” which were very kindly donated by Mark Newton (@MarkCN). Mark is the author of the Legends of the Red Sun series of books, if you’ve not heard of them then you’ve clearly not asked me for a book recommendation. Go and check out his books, or his blog – both are fab reads.

“River Mouth”

A dull train becomes multi-coloured

by the inhabitants, glad of a rest.

Hiking boots are unlaced

as adults rest while the train crashes

into the hill and continues upwards

looking back towards Aberystwyth and

beyond it the world.

A gateway and a divergence.

Children tamed by ancient Kings dance to the pier.

The train carries on the same journey

repeating on a grand scale right down to one atom

the visitors change but don’t vary.

A place seeing people – watching them

and reading their history.

Some stay, some leave a few learn,

looking beyond.

The words for poem number two came from Louise Brownhill - brownhills over on Etsy and were “tactile, recycle, mindful”.

“Ashes and Wine”

A small dash between life and death

one date to another remembered

the just born and barely dead

connected by a tactile link

to touch for the first or last time.

Belief in a purpose – hope for a future.

Welcomed with tears and sent away

with a sea of open smiles.

To recycle a life – once more and again,

the hope that we will live on

in a form, with something to someone.

The meaning of life to find it.

Every person mindful of the next day

only considered darkly in the recesses

not held up to the light.

No one knows what will come next.

Paula McKay – Altered Eras on Etsy has given me “Aquarius, dusk, breathing” to work with. I should explain that some of these will be coming out in a different order to the forum posts because of the amount of research I need to do for some of them. They will more or less be in order though and I’ll keep putting up the posts on the Etsy page as well!

“Ptolemy’s Vase”

Time is running out to watch the sheep

dying in a cloudless drought.

In the middle of the sea but the eagle

flies far away to find water.

A boy lays back in the dusk

counting each day to the midwinter

 on all his fingers and toes.

Aquarius stares down at his sons

from a distance further than they ever walked.

The strongest horses cannot survive

the danger of a dying myth and

take final steps, no longer breathing.

Instead their bones forma framework

for a new country to be built upon –

eventually a river runs through their rib cages

bringing more water to the ocean.

"Alienated, desert, cookies" was given to me by Eva - fromtheheartbyeva from the Etsy forums. I am still a little unsure of how this one turned out but it just turned up in my head fully formed. So here it is.

 

“Better”

Trapped in a desert but not forever

too young to drive, far from the tracks

and out of reach of the airport.

Forced into a world of milk and cookies,

screaming at the fundraisers but only silently

beneath a pasted-on grin.

Beaten into submission by history until

the subconscious convinces you that

you are wrong. Not them.

A blinkered mind in a town of bullies,

eyes averted from distant kindness.

Children being reinforced instead of taught.

Everyone is alienated so it becomes

Accepted and acceptable.

One day it ends and new people

gather around, you can leave and find

the real life – the good belong.

Waiting is harder than giving in

but the only way is up.

That's this batch done. More soon. Thanks for reading all this way down!

Vick.

Telescope, Dendritic, Grout, Dream.

It’s been a while since I posted my poetry adventures because I was running low on ideas. I was down to only about five to write. So I asked my lovely friends over on Etsy and got a flood of ideas in, so much so that I think I’m going to have to take a few mornings/afternoons off just to work on them. This is excellent.

So here are the latest. This first one comes from very close to home – my Dad very kindly chose three words from ‘Bento’s Sketchbook’ by John Berger for me to mess about with! The three words were “canvas, telescope, bamboo”.

“Arcetri”

This weathered man walks over

a canvas of hills framed by corked oaks

towards a tower refracted by the lake.

A still lens except for the slow twitch

of bamboo rods held in place

by the fingers of lethargic children.

Trailing along his daily route

up a gentle slope past shuttered windows.

He rests a hand on the white-washed house

gathering breath before walking back in

under the open stone arch. A halcyon prison.

Shuffling through the courtyard he

listens to the clouds passing overhead

and enters the study – pausing

to rest his mind on a dusty telescope

now abandoned to an archive.

A paradise to some but lost to his eyes.

Sometimes there really are just random words however Andrew’s (@mygoditsraining) selection of “brochan, heart, dendritic” probably tells you a little more about him than most, but mainly that I need to shout at him when I next see him. Seriously – I went through six drafts for something that made even a little bit of sense. This is another one I might work on again later but I am happy enough for the moment.

“Styx and Stones”

The night came slowly, creeping carefully

so that no one noticed until it was too late

with no chance for corrections.

The sun’s turn to sulk now that his

smooth and bright shine was unseen all over.

A huddle of people stood still looking up

seeing nothing and feeling only air beneath their feet.

Dendritic roads spin off over the moors endless choices hidden from the lost.

Marsh surrounded the path leaving an ever shifting unknown way through.

No one knows where they are going, they think about it

and then choose to ignore the inevitabilities.

Not looking down into what lies either side

a thick brochan made of old bones

and things lost in between times.

More people arrive as the old struggle to remember

where they were going, why they kept trying.

It’s too far to drive in one day so they walk instead

through the heart of rock and rubble as the underground crow flies.

 

Poem number three in this batch comes from a challenge of sorts by the wonderful David Moore (@abaddondave) who wanted to see whether I would take words that had been seen as unpleasant and make them beautiful or just let them swim in their ugliness. The words were “jug, grout, moist”. Oh and I almost didn’t write this at all because Mr. Moore is currently in Australia surrounded by the good light, the middle of the footy season and most importantly Farmer’s Union Iced Coffee and I am insanely jealous!

“Tesserae”

Rain water still collects in old stone

the tanks full as the foot-worn hollows.

Sunlight passing over the wall

dries the starry dew from moist grass

overgrown into the green granary.

Glass constructed to protect a broken jug

and a collection of coins.

Lost property carefully managed by volunteers.

Cars park so that all ages can see

all ages of layered objects.

Far away in an unremarkable open air room –

furthest from the protection of the long wall

a faded mosaic of a forgotten goddess.

The grout falls from her eyes

and her hair splinters in the heat

so she is only a fragmented reminder

of the faith of a family.

The army who worshipped her

replaced by legions of tourists.

She isn’t recognised. Buried and unburied.

The final post is the first of my Etsy crafters words from Dbervi who gave me the words “feeling, pebble, dream” to see if I could turn them into something. Also a special thanks for kicking things off on the Etsy forums with me!

“A Dream Vision”

A fountain sits below this glass

dome, shattered by a creative

pebble thrown below the waning

moon. Lines cross over an Eden –

his imagination.

Fighting man’s made society,

the king’s decadence in a dream

to lay at peace in his god’s land,

a cruel place split by a river

of god, faith and nature.

A fragment of feeling. Two horns –

of plenty and of Africa,

the earth a temple to nature,

lost buildings house the creative

a grand palace to art.

I am now busy working on the next batch – but as always if you’ve not given me any words yet I would love to hear from you.

Vick.