#oneaday, Day 51, Writing

Today I met up with a poetry friend to do some writing. He was massively hungover, so we didn’t get much done, but I did bash out something as part of an exercise we did together.

The aim was to write a sonnet which, he told me, has 14 lines. We alternated setting parameters for the lines, like ‘must have a colour in’ ‘must contain 8 syllables’ etc etc. My attempt is below…

The toilet contents were blood red

Jesus, that’s not good he thought.

It was as if his very essence had gushed out of him like a waterfall.

He flushed the toilet so he didn’t have to face it.

A wave of dizziness – uh.

His face went white he saw in the mirror.

A knocking at the door ‘Are you OK in there?’

‘Fine.’ he called out.

He paused, and lifted the lid.

The bowl was a mess, so he grabbed up some paper to clean it.

Jesus, this is not good.

The horror film image flashed back to his vision.

He grabbed the toilet brush and scrubbed.

He didn’t see a doctor for months. Because men don’t.



#oneaday, Day 50, World Book Night

So I just took part in a World Book Night give away and poetry reading. Two local poets were givers – one had Carol Ann Duffy’s ‘The World’s Wife‘ , the other Seamus Heaney’s ‘New Selected Poems‘. We had a small but happy crowd, and the poetry seemed to be well received – as were the books, some of which were earlier handed out at the train station and some going to the local prison.

Books are like, really good so it is great that some people who didn’t have some now do. If only there was a place you could go and borrow books without having to pay for them – they are expensive after all – and then return them when you were done. Oh wait, there is! Libraries….