Now, I know – dVerse Meet the Bar

How many times do you turn tangled memories

over and over in your mind?

How many half-heard conversations

do you decide were just concoctions of a wishful-thinking

wondering?

Images advance and recede, side-step and sway

out of your vision – and the faces, oh the faces,

they are wreathed in wraith-like wisps of mist,

tantalisingly out of reach.

You fear that you are merely fanciful, creating a castle of cards –

oh, no, not a house! – of four feuding families

that will collapse under the weight of your expectation.

‘Where did I come from?’

‘What blood runs like rivulets in my veins?’

Now, I know. Now, I know.

 


The lovely Björn was this week’s host over at dVerse, the poet’s pub, where he asked us to use alliteration and consonance in our poems. I used this opportunity to reflect on some news I received this week about a certain part of my family’s history. It answered a great deal of questions that have been floating around in my head for a long time.

If you feel like putting pen to paper, so to speak, head on over to dVerse and join in!

Aleksander_Gierymski,_Żydówka_z_pomarańczami

This is “Jewess with Oranges” painted by Aleksander Gierymski.

Irrelevant anyway – DVerse Open Link Night 258

in the face of –

darling, you simply don’t have what it takes – 

you have to believe that you do.

because if you don’t, then what the hell is it all for?

what is it for,

if you are a mere memory, ever fading, whispered on the wind that will never brush your long-gone skin?

what is it for,

if your life’s work is only what you have created at the behest of others,

filed away in a forgotten archive

until, archive found, a person never to be known to you decides that since

your name is unknown to them and unknown to whom they are beholden

you were irrelevant anyway?

 

and then you are gone

 

what is it for,

if you cannot believe in yourself?

what is it for?

what is the essence of you?

what does what you have left behind

 

say,

 

about you?

 

do not let them tell you

that for which you yearn is of no relevance

that the only way is the way from which you turn

that success is not worth chasing

that the aching in your bones is only physical

that you can take pills for that

that you can put all that to one side

 

that

 

is wrong.

 

Keep writing.

That is who you are.

 


This is my belated entry to the Dverse Open Link Night, that lovely poets pub was open for business for poetry old and new, of any kind. I, on the other hand, was not open, so I hope there are a few poets lounging around today, nursing a pint of craft beer or a single malt whiskey.

It surely isn’t too late to take part – why not pop on over there to join in or just read some varied and wonderful work?

This-stopia

I have an Instagram account (@freyathewriter). Instagram is an amazing place to be for writers – the community is great. Readers, writers and others that find themselves caught up in the web of the community are having a great, supportive time over there. I bought a book only 11 days ago that was an independent writer’s first publication – and it was excellent. If I hadn’t joined Instagram, I’d likely never have read it. Congratulations to Nicholas Crivac for getting Apotheosis to print. Take a look at his website if you want to know more!

Anyway, I digress. On my Instagram account I got involved in a conversation about how the way the world is at the moment means that any ideas us dystopian writers might develop seem to have been stolen by, or been the inspiration for, various regimes around the world (looking at you, governments of the UK and USA!). It means we have to push our plots further and harder so that they don’t just end up being non-fiction tomes. Having said that, in my experience what it has meant is that the tiny news articles that slip through when we are all being supposedly distracted by the latest scandal (which seem to focus very much on the Royal Family these days) have been the jumping off point for some quite interesting and unexpected plot twists. I can’t decide whether to be pleased or horrified at my schadenfreude. It just goes to show, we are all a messy mix of light and shade.

This takes me to my next point (I did have a plan for this blog post, honest). I’m so focused on my burgeoning novel that other writing is taking a back seat. I’m in the throes of my first edit of my book. It’s both challenging and revealing and I find that I edit best with a cup of coffee, under the duvet, in bed (who knew?). I wonder if it’s because it reminds me of when I was a law student and the only way I could have access to all the law books I needed when writing and studying (it was before the internet!) was by spreading them out on my bed? Anyway, once I’ve made some more editing progress my flash fiction and poetry brain cells will kick back in. I do have a list of ideas, inspirations and whatnot, I just don’t want and can’t get too distracted by them for now. I used to contribute a lot to DVerse and I want to get back into that, definitely. It too is a fun place to be.

Which takes me to my final point, which is a bit of a shout out to Helena Hann-Basquiat. She too has been off the radar for a bit (I think the youth across the pond are still saying ‘a hot minute’), but I am reliably informed because I follow her and comment on her blog posts (not stalkery at all), that she is also getting back into the writing gig. I’m so pleased because (a) she’s a brilliant writer and (b) because I reaaaaaally enjoyed being part of the Jessica collaboration back in 2014. it appears that the final book in the trilogy is in the works. All being well I can unleash my really dark side on a bloody slice of this final book, if she still intends to go down the collab route with it. I have a dark dystopian soul and an even darker horror soul. And then there’s my fantasy soul too which is really quite a doozy. Anyway, all hail Helena. I’m looking forward to working with you, if you’ll have me.

There. I think I’ve written all I wanted to for now. I intend to be here on a weekly basis, every weekend, all being well. I’ll be in my dressing gown and PJs, allthough you won’t see that – or will you? Who knows who is watching and by what method?

We are in This-stopia after all…

 

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