Photo image: Davy D
“Read the headlines?”
“Nope I’m a dog.”
“Savage Dog Attack Shock – Any ideas?”
“Not me, I have an alibi.”
“Bark it Bad Breath.”
“I was at home
chewing some bone
with Miss Daisy.”
“You used that last time.”
“Walked didn’t I.
Jury saw right through you.”
“Today’s gonna be different.”
“What you got up your sleeve?”
“Nothing, but I got a pocket full of bacon chews.
You’re coming down the station.”
“Okay, but easy with the bracelets.”
© Davy D 2017
The street looks different through scratched Perspex and burning petrol. Buildings and people morph into a grey spectrum – speed of shadows providing distinction. Despite hundreds of voices chanting “kill the pigs” and the thud of bricks and scaffolding poles on riot shields, I still hear my heartbeat and taste fear inside choking acrid smoke. God placed me in a privileged box and I struggle to connect with their rage, their poverty, their isolation; thinking only of how to keep family and friends away from a eulogy.
Anger floods the street
Waves of hatred roll against
© Davy D 2017
Photo Image: Davy D
A strange question to start this week’s poetic pondering, but please bear with me on this one.
The question was posed when I visited a bookshop in my local town a few days ago and decided to have a look in the poetry section. After a long while searching I eventually found a scant collection of poetry books and,to my horror, discovered they were listed under the category CRIME (the photo at the head of this post is evidence of the said misdemeanour).
Now I know some of my poetry offerings have bordered on criminal, but to take things to this level is an attack on poetic liberties. When did poetry become a crime?
I tracked down the manager of the store and gave him an opportunity to explain this apparent change in legislation. Apart from a shrug of his shoulders and a few ineligible grunts he was unable to shed any light on the matter.
When I returned home I went through my police service archives and at no point did I ever arrest anyone for the offence of poetry, or remember being called to give evidence in a case of poetic injustice. A search on the internet did provide reference to a book by Michael Connelly called, The Poet, where a serial killer leaves excerpts of Edgar Allan Poe poems at the scenes of his murders, but that’s just fiction.
So please poets, keep a watchful eye when going about your daily poetry business. It seems there may be something sinister afoot.
If you see or hear about any similar attempts to criminalise poetry, please let me know.
The second habit of Steven Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective People is to start with the end in mind.
There is much debate with writers around how effective this process can be. In his book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, Stephen King details how he starts a book with only the first line in mind. He creates the first draft with the ending developing as he works through it. Agatha Christie didn’t know the ending of some of her books until she had reached the last chapter. Alternatively, there are numerous writers who plan and progress their work with military precision, with the end always in mind.
Whether you are a planner, or a go with the flow writer, the shared commonality is that every piece of work has an ending. The question posed is could your writing be different if you started at the end?
There are numerous writing resources providing writing prompts to assist writers. What if you used that prompt as the beginning of a piece of work and then rewrote the piece with the prompt as an ending. In effect writing it backwards.
When I worked as a police officer a similar technique was used to retrieve information