(Hour 03) 12.30-01.30am. PROMPT, the bop

beyond the door

there’s someone at my door
something strange at my door
who shouldn’t be at my door
& the people who should be
are likely never coming back
through that door ever again

i wish i was brave enough to go through

whatever is at my door
i’m pretty sure
is not any kind of human
it might be robot
AI of a basic kind
but not a very kind kind
if what I saw it do
through the door is typical

i wish i was brave enough to go through

i don’t know if they’re scanning
using heat sensors or x-rays
or infrared or UV
all i know is it’s just one door
between them & me
& it’s not enough to keep out the dust

i wish i was brave enough
                                       to go through

(Hour 02) 11.30-12.30am. PROMPT, recipe poem

recipe for surviving the end of the world

1 cup awareness of surroundings
500g courage, finely diced
1-10 plans, of some sort (raw, half-baked, well fermented)
2 tablespoons willingness to take risks
at least 1 other person to help
more than your fair share luck (season to taste)


Preparation
.
Pre-heat world
To uncomfortable level

Step 1.
Mix the awareness
of your surroundings
with some sort of plan
& the tablespoons
of risk. Stir gently
until mixture
is well combined
but not over worked

Step 2.
Baste your heart
your soul
your feet
your breath
with courage 

Add your helper person
if you have one
sifting till smooth

Step 3.
Sprinkle everything
liberally
with luck

Step 4.
Bake. Hide. Flee. Avoid. Run. Hide. Counterattack (perhaps). Hide.
Try not to despair.
Check frequently whether still alive. Repeat till free. Or dead.

(Hour 01) 10.30-11.30pm. PROMPT: famous woman

 

even though, she

even though
she denied climate change
had selfish views on marriage
took the bible literally

even though
she rarely praised me
lavishing love instead
on Rueben 

even though
she claimed I did
she always had to have
the last word

even though
she ran for parliament
three times  thankfully
she was never elected

even though
she was all these things
i still miss her
she was after all

my mother

(Hour 24) 21.30pm-22.30pm. PROMPT, 70s or 80s pop song 

all night long (all night)

Well, my friends, the time has come
Lower the roof and no more fun
Throw away all the words to be wrung
Let the music be turned low
Everybody rest, everybody entrance
Lose yourself in bed romance, we going to
Depart-y, varooma, siesta, forever
Come on and snore along
We’re going to depart-y, varooma, siesta, forever
Come on and snore along

All night long (all night), all night (all night)
All night long (all night), all night (all night)
All night long (all night), all night (all night)
All night long (all night), ooh yeah (all night)

People sleepwalking in the street
See the shuffling in their feet
Life is calm, mild and discrete
Let the lullaby play on
Feel it in your eyelids and in your bedroll
Let the lullaby take control, we going to
Depart-y, varooma, fiesta, forever
Come on and snore my song

All night long (all night) oh (all night)
All night long (all night) yeah (all night)
All night long (all night) yeah (all night)
All night long (all night) (all night)

Yeah, once you get destarted you stay downed
Come join the fun, it’s a merry-no-round
Everyone’s snoozing their troubles away
Come join our slumberparty, see how we lay
Tom bo li de say de moi ya, yeah, jambo jumbo
Way to depart-y o we goin’ oh, jambali
Tom bo li de say de moi ya, yeah, jumbo jumbo

Oh, oh, oh, oh, yes
We’re gonna have a slumberparty, yeah, ugh
All night long (all night), all night (all night)
All night long (all night), yeah (all night)
All night long (all night), all night (all night)
All night long (all night)

Everyone you meet, they’re pj-amming under the sheets, all night long (all night)
Yeah, I said, everyone you meet, they’re pj-amming under the sheets (all night)
All night long (all night)
Feel good, feel good (all night)

(Hour 23) 20.30pm-21.30pm. PROMPT, childhood

remembering the not-so-old days

1.
They fought a lot.
We knew that.
We always thought
fighting & staying together
was better than ]\\\\ Separating.
So many of our friends
endured steps. It didn’t seem
worth it. Now I’m not so sure.

To be honest
I haven’t really thought
much about dad’s “status”.
I’ll survive with him or not.
It’s mum I’ll always miss.

Rueben tried to play
peacemaker tag.
Always putting himself
in the middle of their arguments
in the hope it might end them.

He was too little to realise.

2.
Weird. For me it’s the reverse
Mum took off when I was two
so my memory of her
is somewhere between
next to nothing
& absolute zero.

Dad worked in the garage
Long hours. Long long hours.
Whether because there was
so much work or simply
avoiding me, I’ll never know.

It was my granny who basically
brought me up. Took me to sport,
watched me play, helped with homework,
even with girlfriend troubles eventually.
All that stuff. Taught me to cook too.
She was an excellent chef.

Awww now you’re just teasing me.
But yes, I’m pretty good in a kitchen.

 

 

(Hour 22) 19.30pm-20.30pm. PROMPT, technology in the context of nature

facebook feed freudenschade

i don’t want to be petty

yet mountains that scar the sky
with their antique beauty ;
greens so lush they eat the eye ;

fifty more snapshots of the Grand Canal ;
or the view after hiking the ruins
of once mighty Machu Pichu

give me nothing except
a vicarious envy i wish
i could hide — but can’t

(Hour 21) 18.30pm-19.30pm. PROMPT, about an animal. From its POV or yours

herons on the catwalk

true feathered supermodels
with long legs, long necks 

graceful detached gait
slender head & perhaps 

the only accoutrements
Claudia, Naomi or Elle 

are short on — a dagger
shaped bill

languorous flight style
long leisurely wingstrokes 

gliding silently slightly
into land with aloof ease

excellent fish catchers
they slowly stalk 

or stand stick still, pose
in shallow waters

peering binocular vision
waiting for their chance 

to slingshot swiftlunge
bills piercing the surface

like mercies being begged

(Hour 20) 17.30pm-18.30pm. PROMPT, Use Prufrock to create your own poem

Prufrock’s footnotes

1] The epigraph is from Dante’s Divine Comedy (Inferno, XXVII, 61-66). Count Someone-Long-long-Dead says something wise or witty about lying & Hell in Italian (I’m not really sure as I don’t speak Italian).

3] etherized = anesthetized = how readers feel by about this line

14] Michaelangelo: Italian painter, poet, and sculptor (1475-1564) not the Mutant Ninja Turtle

29] works and days = Hesiod’s Works and Days (8th-century BCE depiction of rustic life). Doesn’t add much to your understanding of the poem, just flashing my lit cred so you know I know my stuff.

42] morning coat = a formal coat with tail (not a foxtail, more like a lion’s or a cheetah’s)

52] dying fall = in Twelfth Night, Duke Orsino’s first love-sick line includes “It had a dying fall”. Eliot flashing his lit cred showing he’s read Shakespeare. He’ll do this many more times so keep those eyes ope.

60] butt-ends = the discarded, unsmoked ends of cigarettes, possibly cigars, but only rarely pipes or actual anuses.

82] exotic dancer Salome received John B’s dead head as a reward for some saucy dancing for Herod. T.S. namedropping again. (Mark 6.17-29; Matthew 14.3-11)

83] I am no prophet = More bible mic drops. Amos humble-bragging, “I was no prophet, neither was I a prophet’s son; but I was an herdman, and a gatherer of sycomore fruit” (Amos 7.14). It ain’t not great shakes to be able to gather fruits of the Ficus sycomorus, Amos, aka, fig or the fig-mulberry (because the leaves resemble those of the mulberry); a fig species that has been cultivated since ancient time.

92] Cf. how Marvell says something sort of similar in “To his Coy Mistress” but without much relevance: “Let us roll all our strength, and all / Our sweetness, up into one ball”. You get the idea, we gotta do this stuff so you realise how clever it is.

94] Lazarus = the dead dude Jesus revived. But surely you knew that already, we’re just clutching at straws now.

101] sprinkled streets = watered down to suppressed the dust, not to help the streets grow.

105] a magic lantern = device that throws a magnified image of a picture on glass onto a white screen in a dark room.

111] Prince Hamlet = Prufrock is not the noble star of Shakespeare’s longest play but rather bit players like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Pound disliked the Hamlet paragraph, but T.S. dug his heels in & wouldn’t give it up, but as Pound believed it was “the only portion of the poem that most readers will like at first reading” he didn’t see it would do much harm (Letters of Ezra Pound 1907-1941, ed. D. D. Paige [London: Faber and Faber, 1951]: 92-93).

113] progress = fancy name for the way a royal prince travels through the English countryside, from great house to great house together with heavily-laden possession-loaded wagons, as well as sundry servants and courtiers.

117] high sentence = a phrase from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, meaning “elevated, serious and moral thoughts expressed formally.”

119] the Fool =  several Shakespeare’s plays have characters called “the Fool,” but most likely referring to the king’s loyal servant and critic in King Lear.

121] the bottoms of my trousers rolled = ie, with cuffs, whacky fashion.

122-3] Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? / I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach = most commentators choose to focus on the avant-garde, potentially shocking hair-style. I however believe that the silliest rhyme in English versification cannot go unremarked upon.

NB I actually quite like TS Eliot & reread his collected works earlier this year, but I’ve had this idea about trying to write a poem only in footnotes for some time & this seemed an ideal time to test it out. Obviously a lot longer will be required to polish …

(Hour 19) 16.30pm-17.30pm. PROMPT, Companion poem

the other side

The man was okay. Wasn’t he?
He might have been able to help.
Instead he’s stormed off somewhere.

We both seem dazed.
Standing around listlessly.
We should decide. Risk petrol.
Or just go.

Out of nowhere, the man reappears
Now pointing a gun. I scream.
Wish I could say I don’t
But I do. Ryan acting tough.
I’m not hearing anything

Trying to talk him down.
Put the gun away.
Asking if he’ll let us go.
One of you maybe.

He looks at me. Suddenly creepy.
How could I have ever/

Ryan saying okay
getting out the keys
I can’t believe/

Throws them past the guy.
First thought, he was aiming at him
He grabs me.
I’m dragged behind, hand clutching his
Don’t want to let go.
Don’t want to fall over.
But the keys, I splutter
My house keys, hurry hurry.

We both fall in. Almost easily.
He starts the ute, pulls away.
Feel terrible I doubted him.
Can’t believe. I actually thought he’d/

Gunshots. Louder than they ought.
But I think they missed. By a long way.
Shotgun pellets would scatter widely
At this range.

Drive in silence for a long time.
Want to say sorry.
But he won’t know what for.

(Hour 18) 15.30pm-16.30pm. PROMPT, Form, epistolary poem

Dear Rueben,

Even though it seems : the world has imploded : I just want you to know : I am still around : & I am going to find you

I’ve met someone : who’s helping me : (you’ll like him I think) : & we think : whatever happened : water protected us

So I’m hoping : you were practicing : your anchor impersonation : in the deep end of the pool : when the world went weird

Stay hidden : stay safe : we’ll back everyday : for the next week : at 3:15pm : just as if I’m collecting you : from school

We’ll see each other : soon : little bro : I promise

Love you to the stars : & beyond
Stella

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