I remember when she came to live here
She of next door
She introduced herself and asked for a cup of sugar
She was going to bake a cake and did I want some?
After the day she came to live here
She of next door
She brought me cake
And my cup, now chipped, with sticky leftover sugar
I remember the first week she lived here
Her smiles, every day, her hello’s, every day
The doorbell ringing, she wanted something
After the first week she lived here
We smiled, every day, we said hello, every day
I unplugged the doorbell, I want my peace
I remember the first month she lived here
She tried to bring me cake
With sticky leftover sugar, every day
even after I unplugged the doorbell
After the first month she lived here
She of next door
I brought her my cup, chipped
Filled with sticky leftovers of moulded cake
She of next door
Out of sync
Bloody spiteful woman
My first time combining #ThursdayDoor with #NaPoWriMo. The prompt at napowrimo.net was to “write a poem about a specific place […] to incorporate concrete details […] can really help the reader imagine not only the place, but its mood.” I browsed trough the door photos my mum sent me, and chose one that has fascinated me since the first time I saw it. It became the starting point for this poem.
A door from Mechelen, Belgium provided by… yes, you guessed it, I’m still sharing my mum’s doors 🙂
De Dutch version of our book is ready. I’ve uploaded a test version (not for sale), so you can take a look what all the work has been about. If you click on the photo you can browse through the upload on the Blurb site.
I still can’t believe I managed to translate 20 of my poems from English to Dutch. But is was worth it, now my mother’s friends can buy the book and read it too. We’ll continue working on the English version in March.
For now, I need a break. After the intensive editing we did, all my brain can think of is book-book-book. I’m grateful that my sister showed me what a huuuuuge difference a professional editor makes when it comes to details. I was convinced my mother and I we’re doing a great job at being precise. My sister did The Best job at being precise.
When I said to my mum
“Let’s make a book together”
I should have probably said
“Let’s make a book together
that’s unedited and still has mistakes
so we can leave out the part where we
stare at details endlessly and they seem to
change even though we just put them in their right place
and we look at them again and we sent the file to each other once more
and we find yet another detail and we remember we forgot something and I’ll
ask you to change some words because I don’t like the ones I read and where the files gets corrupted and we need to redo a lot of stuff and e-mail with customer service too many times and then redo some editing and oh well let’s not make a Dutch translation now that we’re on it and two digital editions too”.
It will be fun.
(This one is dedicated to my sister, who does editing for a living. I never knew how much patience that job takes. I’m in awe).
This poem deserved a door detail instead of a full door 🙂 My mum provided the picture.
The poem, and all characters and incidents portrayed in this post, are not fictitious.
This beautiful door can be found in Mechelen, Belgium. My mother provided it, just as the last few weeks.
I’m again adding one of my reading experiments the poem for today. It’s called hell, and if your prefer to read instead of listen you can click on that word. It will be in the book with my mum for certain. We’ve been working hard on restoring everything since the Blurb file broke down. My sister who’s a professional editor has lent us her professional eye. She came up with great suggestions for lots of little details we didn’t notice. You can’t beat a professional!
So maybe, at the end of this month, we’ll get to hold our book – made by three family members. That’s really special to me. My mother also asked me to translate my poems into Dutch because not all of her friends read English well. I’ve given it a try, and to my own surprise I manage translations/adaptations I’m happy with. So now we’ll make both an English and a Dutch edition.
For more doors, hop over to #ThursdayDoor creator and host Norm. I’m a fan. New gems every week. Nice people too.
My mother provided today’s door, just as the last two weeks. I’ll need to ask her where she found this pretty one, the file info doesn’t say. I love the colourful contrast.
I’m adding one of my reading experiments as today’s poem. It will be in the book with my mum for certain. Blurb didn’t manage to get the latest version of our document restored, so we’ll have to redo parts. I’ve asked them if they can find out what corrupted the file, so we can hopefully avoid that happening again.
I’m a bit disappointed that I won’t write anything new for today. The teachers of my son’s school are on strike, for better wages and better working circumstances. So we have plans for today. Playing old fashioned games and going to the movies are some. I did write something new yesterday, but it’s not a poem. I’ve created a practical tool against #procrastination, this time about getting unblocked.
For more doors, hop over to #ThursdayDoor host Norm. I’m a fan. New gems every week.
My mother provided today’s door, just as the very pretty one last week. That one was from Gent (Belgium), this one can be found in Mallaig, Scotland.
I’m adding one of my reading experiments from last week as today’s poem. It will be in the book with my mum for certain – well, if we get the book document restored. That stress isn’t over yet.
I’m relieved that I don’t have to write anything new for today. I’ve spent the morning developing a new, practical tool against #procrastination and writing a blog post for my other blog. My energy is spent, but I’m happy with the result!
For more doors, hop over to #ThursdayDoor host Norm.
It’s Thursday Door time again! I’m stressed today. My mum and I are working on a book that combines her photography with my poetry. We’re getting near to the finish line, but somehow Blurb doesn’t show any of the photos in the last version I’ve sent her.
Today I present to you a door by my mum (no clue about the what, where and how of it) and a recording of me testing out a poem. It’s probably going to be in the book, and I was checking if it needs edits by reading out loud.