Was last winter really so cold? Were we really below freezing for pretty much two months? I’ve been bare-armed huffing my way up the hills the last few days, taking Kassie for her walks (she’s thirteen now but can still out-walk me, at least if there’s a picnic in the offing).
For New Year Jo Bell laid down a challenge to poets:
Poets of all persuasions; let us Raise Our Game in 2012. If you think you’re a page poet, please make the effort to learn three of your poems by heart. It’s easier than you think and it will make an immense difference in connecting with your audience. If you think you’re a stage poet, please make the effort to write one poem that follows a particular structure – the sonnet is a good place to start. Sometimes we say we are writing free verse when we’re just too lazy to give it a form.
I took my James Murdoch poem up the Hill today and went over it again and again as we walked. By the time we got home it was there, in my head – not perfect, not secure, not remotely performance-polished but there.
So if you noticed a bare-armed, mad-eyed woman walking at speed, waving crumpled paper and muttering poetry at her long-suffering bitch – that was me. I can really recommend walking and practice as a way to make words stick. Just hoping I can remember it all on stage now – and won’t need a poop-and-scoop event to prompt the second verse.
Onward and upward.