Editors Christopher & Keri – #PoemADayForAYear: 16/04/15. NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen

So last night we were on The Power of Poetics talking with some very lovely poets over in America. It is a podcast hosted on BlogTalkRadio. You can Skype in and get involved and it is such a pleasure to talk to peers you would not normally connect with. Catfish McDaris was the special guest on last night’s show. He will be doing it again on the 29th of this month and we shall be calling in again so you should get on it. Click the link above to listen to last night’s show and keep a weather eye for the next one.  Click on that link above to listen to it.

We were really keen to get involved last night. We have been working with Catfish a lot over the last two months on publishing a chapbook of his through Bunbury. It is very exciting times.  There will be more on this over the next couple of weeks.

We also have another couple of big interviews for issue nine but you know the score by now. We cannot say anything. Well, I can’t and am probably going to avoid saying things from now on. We listened back to last night’s podcast and I sound like a dweeb. This is the voice of a man who should be doing mid-level IT, badly but with the arrogance of someone much more talented in his field, in Bridlington. I have a face for radio but sadly a voice for resigned muteness.

Anyway, here is a poem. The prompt from NaPoWriMo for today is to write a terzanelle, which is a little bit like a villanelle but more complicated which is great, because I could never get into writing villanelles in the first place.

Christopher

This is the place where the chatter of life

spills into itself; matrices of indecision.

Right paths and wrong turns. Joy and strife.

 

Thoughts do not land with any precision.

Whether or not or not not to keep it

spills into itself; matrices of indecision.

 

The image of a greying man in a pulpit

flashes across the mind’s eye.

Whether or not or not not to keep it.

 

You tell him the news though tears which you try

to hold back; the door slamming behind you

flashes across the mind’s eye.

 

Complications, blood loss, unconsciousness, coming to

he cradles you in his arms, comforting, trying

to hold back; the door slamming behind you.

 

On the floor you both lie crying,

he cradles you in his arms, comforting, trying.

This is the place where the chatter of life

spills into itself; matrices of indecision.

Keri

Fucking Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional (Fine)

Super-sleuth extraordinaire.

Back with the times and rhymes

befitting, benefiting and flitting from line to line,

a benign force to shine upon my own misdeeds and the perceived misdeeds of those around me.

I ‘ll slow the flow.

All it takes is one low blow, one to say ‘I know.’ and suddenly a foe rises.

Keep cool like coal not yet licked by fire’s glow.

The show must tremble on so flip that sign on your door to ‘open’ and repeat after me, I’m fine. Maybe one day you’ll believe the lie.

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