Live at the Art House Southampton

My parents had lots of vinyl in the house. A number of them were live albums, many of them with the imaginative title Live at… It’s with a big, happy wink that I choose my title for this post. I would haver never thought I’d introduce myself as Live at anything. But I’m glad it happened.

There’s a place in Southampton called the Art House, and it’s magic. It’s where creativity happens, it’s where people grow, it’s where souls meet. Sometimes when you don’t look for magic it finds you. And that’s how this story began…

I discovered the Art House three years ago through Twitter. There was a red headed woman offering a creativity course online. I wasn’t really interested in creativity, but curious about the e-learning. So I joined. And things started to happen.

I met many wonderful people in the course. We liked it so much that we went from one course to another. Growing our creativity, growing our personalities, growing friendships. When my family decided to go on a holiday to the south of the UK, I thought it was a great chance to meet some of these people in real life. And check out the place where these courses came from. So I went, and we met. It wasn’t one of those meetings where you feel really uncomfortable and suddenly realise you don’t know the other person that well. It was like meeting old  friends.

Little did I know I’d be perfoming on stage there, almost two years later. But it was the only place where this could happen. The only place where I wouldn’t run away. I had cheered to many friends one through Facebook, who went on stage for the first time. After all the “you can do it”, “you did it”, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to see you”, chickening out myself just was not on option. So I went, I got nervous, and did it. My favourite part was seeing the listening faces in the audience, and hearing the laughter. If I ever go on stage again, I want the camera to be recording the audience. That’s the part I want to remember 🙂

This one’s for you, love hunter

The ghost of I’m not good enough

The ballad of free reign

Enemy number 1

She watched channel zero. She really did.
Bored to bits by being blatantly alive
Deliberately deaf to her heart’s dull drumming

Eery eyes endlessly staring at the ceiling
Willfully wanting what we call the end
her hair hanging down in hopeless tangles
She lay slouched on a sleazy settee

#NaPoWriMo day 30, I’ve made it! Very happy that we were invited today to take one of our own poems and change the order of the lines, placing the top line at the bottom etc. I choose the draft for Too tired to try. Which has a different last line, as you will notice.

To be back home

I left a part of me in Southampton
I know where it’s gone

It’s still wandering through the bluebell wood
admiring the ancient forest
It still on a red settee in the Art House
laughing with Graeme and Jane
It’s still in the audience
loving to see online friends perform
It’s still reading poems on stage
delighted that people are listening

And I wonder
Is it right to leave part of myself behind?
In a different place?
In a different time?
Does it leave a hole?
Is it dangerous?
Am I leaking?

Or can it be done?
Will this little piece of my heart
visit moving voices
while my body is at home?
Will it go beekeeping with Andy
and enter his magical world of knowledge?
Will it hug Lisa, drink a pint, meet Clare
and tell me all about it?

I hope it will.
I don’t want to take that part of me home.

Androgynous

Boys
Wrecking toys
Girls reading books

Yesterday the hay(na)ku was introduced. I like how short they are, and that they invite you to take the core of something. The ones I read of other poets were mainly longer, combining several hay(na)kus in a longer poem. I hope I can write one of those too, when inspiration hits. For now, day 28 of #NaPoWriMo is done.

Order

Heart
Two please
Cut in half

Day 27. The prompt was to write a hay(na)ku. A (hay)naku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. They said nothing about a syllable count. It’s a nice form to play with, I’ll probably end up making more.

Soliloquy

The other night I was talking to myself
and I noticed I was telling myself lies.
I tried to call my own bluff but I couldn’t.
All I got was evasive answers.

I got angry with myself but it didn’t help.
I wouldn’t budge.
I pleaded with myself but it didn’t help.
All I got was an eye roll.

In the end I gave up and told myself
I’m not talking to you anymore.
I moped in the corner, grumpily
refusing to speak another word.

With an inaudible sigh I smiled, happily.
I had won.

There was a prompt about a dialogue, one of the #NaPoWriMo days. It seemed a good prompt for catching up. This is my day 26 entry.

Permission denied

I asked the pope
But he said nope
Abortion is not allowed
We’re already losing crowd

The prompt for day 25 of #NaPoWriMo was to write a clerihew. They are supposed to be funny, not political.

Rest for the wicked

Southampton, Saint George’s day
Bees buzzing through my head
(They could be dragons)

Me searching for words
lost between croaking floor boards
(The snoring encore)

Jane gently jests
Superman takes no orders
(Where did that come from?)

Beer for the dancing man
Meat sausages with vegan mash
Rest for the wicked

The author’s preface to the reader

You reader
could desire unpolished impertinent disturbance
pleasant murmuring
that impregnate muses with imperfections, folly and wit

Only this custom will pardon my faults

I have free will
You are property
exposed without a preface

The prompt for #NaPoWriMo day 21 was erasure: taking a pre-existing text and blacking out or erasing words, while leaving the placement of the remaining words intact. Cervantes delivered these words, or actually, his translator. It’s the preface of Don Quichot. It’s day 22 and I’m still participating, I’m excited!

Waiting

Waiting has no rhythm
Waiting has no mirth
Waiting has no prism
Waiting has no girth