A poem considering what a boarded up window might have seen in its life.
Poem: Not For Sale
Poem: Not Zen
Sitting amongst the pink blossom on Ruddington Village Green Nottinghamshire) I was inspired to write about an old blue Nissan car parked nearby and thought it would be fun to do the poem in a slightly oriental style.
Poem: The Chords
A short poem created after seeing a homeless guy playing the piano extremely well in Nottingham Railway Station foyer. It made me realise that we don’t know the individual’s background and the skills they possess – sometimes we only see the beggar on the street.
Poem: The Joy Of Small Things
This small replica old fashioned dustbin was sitting outside a Vintage Clothes shop on Goose Gate in Nottingham. Just seeing its tiny self sat there made me laugh on a day when a laugh was most needed. Thanks bin. You’ve bin fab.
Poem: Zebras Don’t Gamble
This poem is about trying to cross a zebra crossing and the fact that some cars and other modes of transport simply glide across the crossing as if you aren’t there. Or ignoring the fact you are there! Not wishing to be knocked down I am always cautious like a hyper conscious animal not wishing to trampled by the rogue elephants. Or even partially sighted pensioner drivers!
Poem: No Resting
The image is myself playing the lead role in The Dresser. I have been fortunate enough to play many roles in my life but this one was huge. So thrilling to do but so much to learn. Going on stage with the first lines in your head ready to speak is a daunting thing and once you have uttered those first words there ain’t no going back. Plus you have to do it night after night and sometimes twice a day.
Poem: This Grief Thing (found poem)
For an experiment in creating a found poem I picked up several random leaflets from a rack in the Broadway Cinema Nottingham. The choosing was brief and without any interrogation of the subject matters. Going through them I picked out phrases or blocks of words that had some kind of appeal and just typed them out on A4. Then I shifted them around adding the odd word and was intrigued that what emerged was mostly about getting help in times of distress or of aid in the nature of meditation.
Poem: Window.
Whilst laying in bed I started to consider just a few things that my bedroom window had seen during its time in situ. It hasn’t always been double glazed of course but no doubt has seen many things evolving and passing by in its time. The 1960s film version of H.G Wells The Time Machine comes to mind.
Mixing it up: Should I tell him that the dog peed on the bed?
Street photography in Nottingham mixed up with French text for fun.
Mixing it up: No! I AM waiting for the green man.
Street photography in Nottingham juxtaposed with French text.
Poetry and creative writing by Phil Lowe 