I have just returned from two weeks in Sanur,Bali. My first overseas travel adventure for two years. My stay delivered a most relaxing time, enabling me to read, write and relax, -the Balinese people, friendly and welcoming as ever. This holiday time coincided with the launch of a new writer's notebook, so I had added incentive to fill it with a mass of observations and special moments.  A range of short poems spilled out across my stay in Sanur, a place I have been fortunate to visit several times before. Each time the writing is easy on this tranquil island.  I began gently with the flowers blooming close by... This morning I looked at the flowers And said Thank you.  Alan j Wright Then came some Haiku as I developed a routine of sitting in Patio Cafe mid morning coffee and contemplation, while watching the world buzz by as words swirled in my head. Walk the streets early  As earth's vapours are rising And sunlight is soft. Large green leaves flutter Like sa...

 Here are a couple of First Line Index Poem connected to the theme of school life. Short and sweet renditions of this poetry form, courtesy of  UK Poets, Alan Ahlberg and Michael Rosen. Schools returned back this week across Australia, so the  theme is most apt. Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I liked making them. A Seagull Came To School -After Alan Ahlberg First day back at school The bell rings Everyone goes out to play I see a seagull In the playground It follows me into the classroom The teacher groans There’s something in Harrison’s desk -Boys will be boys. Alan j Wright   Random Conversation Walking Home From School -After Michael Rosen It was summertime I was walking home from school My friend Roger says People often say to me Wipe that face off your smile. Alan j Wright It is once again Poetry Friday. Our host is Jan from Bookseed Studio  . Jan shares lots  her favourite follow up links.   

Hold me closer tiny dansa! Today I am devoting my energies to the dansa poetry form. It owes its orign to the Occitan language of Catalonia.  Here are the guidelines for writing the dansa: Opening quintain (or 5-line stanza) followed by quatrains (or 4-line stanzas) The opening line of the first stanza is the final line of every stanza, including the first Rhyme scheme in the opening stanza: AbbaA (capital A represents the refrain) Rhyme scheme in all other stanzas: bbaA There are no rules for subject, length, or meter. So here's my attempt at a Dansa...                     Whistler In The Winter Wind Winter is a bully An unfriendly wind slapped my face An icy blast devoid of grace I wrapped my coat more tightly around me Winter is a bully. The bus shelter offered little respite The prospect for refuge out of sight I willed the bus to arrive Winter is a bully. Then I heard whistling rising up It reached my heart, filled my cup A whi...

It seems strange to be writing a poem about a summer time phenomenon during the Australian winter, but poetry sparks have no comprehension of time, They just arrive and the writer must be ready to  respond.  The poem I am sharing has taken time to marinate having landed some weeks back, launched on the wings of a cross cultural word that refused to be denied. I have it heard it land in my conscious mind and it would not go away. And so I thought, I read, I listed my findings and then thought some more before the words presented on the page. My poem has since it initial composition,  undergone further refinement and polishing on my computer. My message for young poets is this...  When an idea lands, hold back a little on the  urge to write. Allow your words to gather slowly. Explore your ideas and gather your very best words around you first. Read, research, think, talk, then think some more, before you take up the pen. It is with a strong sense of satisfaction t...

A recurring subject for many poets are those people who play, or who have played, a significant role in their lives. We are drawn to these people. They loom large when considering influence and impact. They may be close family members, friends, work colleagues. We know them so well. They almost dare us to capture something of them in words. Our significant others loom large in our lives. Across the years I have written about my father in several poems. This is the latest. This time memories of my father came calling while I was 36,000 feet in the air... No Denim For Dad It suddenly dawned on me During a flight from Singapore to Saigon... -My father never wore denim At any point Across his entire life. Unlike the man seated in the window seat next to me Adorned in double denim and a pair of garish Crocs. And as we sit sky high, enduring inaudible messages from the flight deck. I ponder what my father would have thought about my smart watch, my smart phone, Or any other smart gadgetry t...

 I n this post I am focusing on poems that feature people. Sometimes such poems are sparked by people we know and sometimes the inspiration can arise from clse observation of people we may not even formally know. There are times when the focus of the poem may in fact be a composite of several people. When poems are written in prasie of people, the poem is referred to as an ode. The poems presented below feature the quirkiness of human beings, rather than being odes. I have written a number of poems concerning people, particularly family members I know well, but those poems were specifically written for that individual, so I won't include them here.  Writing a poem about another person requires the poet to observe them with a keen eye. Your own feelings and attitudes towards them come into play. The aim is to express yourself   in a lyrical way. When I began to search my Poetry Vault for poems about people, I was surprsied to feed so many from which to choose. The mor...

Last week I shared a Gogyohka Poem titled 'Old Snaps.' It sparked reader interest and prompted me to further explore the notion of old photographs and the poetry connection they often evoke. I  recalled a poem from one of my poetry heroes, Michael Rosen. The poem is titled, ' Going Through The Old Photos ' and is contained in Michael's famous anthology of narrative verse, ' Quick Let's Get Out of Here .'  I actually own two copies of this book, just in case I misplace one.  Here is Michael Rosen reading his poem.  U.K songwriter, activist and poet, Billy Bragg recently published a song- ' Ten Mysterious Photos That Can't Be Explained .' The song prompted me to look through my photo collection and dig out some of my mysterious photos. It wasn't too hard.  Here are a few of my mysterious photos that can't be explained. They most certainly provoke speculation and lend themselves to the assignment of suitable words...   This photograph of...

  I  quite enjoy the notion of revisiting poetry forms, previously trialled, particularly those forms memorable for the challenge they presented and the pleasure derived from persisting.  The pleasing outcome of poetry when it delivers the words land safe and sound is for me, quite rewarding. These poems become our good companions and often reveal things we hadn't previously noticed.  The poetry terrain is vast, so poems come from a variety of cultures, different parts of the world and from different centuries. The choice is part of poetry's appeal.  I am returning to Golden Shovel poems. These poems are a relatively new form of poetry. 'Golden shovel' poems refers to a form of  created by Terrance Hayes around 2010.   A reminder of the rules that apply to the Golden Shovel Poetry form: Take a line (or lines) from a favourite poem Use each word in the chosen line (or lines) as an end word  for each line in your poem. Keep the end words i...

Sometimes we must respond to an inner call... I found myself returning once more to the intriguing challenge presented by first line index poems.  I feel much happier with this one, although it took a while to juggle and coax the various lines into place. It was a bit like herding cats at first. However, more importantly, it was definitely an engaging writing challenge.  I am pleased I persisted.  Here is a link to my original post written in May 2021, fully explaining the process for composing these beguiling poems-    First Line Index Poems Island Observations – First Line Index Poem The trees are coming into leaf The young girls are cutting the cabbages The fishermen are patient As they sit here happily drinking And they, of course, Not knowing  For years, there have been no fish in the lake. A hush falls, Along the promenade. You ask for a poem, Before I leave the island. I say, In Manchester, there are a thousand puddles Where the three fields meet. Al...

Many years ago I read a wonderful and quite clever poem by Spike Milligan. It was a rather short poem, and it has stuck with me ever since... Said Hamlet To Ophelia Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I'll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B? Spike Milligan I have always enjoyed the challenge of writing short, pithy poems, ever since encountering Spike's poem. Here are a few examples of short form poetry. They are no less challenging than a longer poem. The economy of words means you have to make sure every single word pulls its weight. There's nowhere for any words to hide.  I encourage anyone holding, within, a desire to write short, pithy poetry to join in and have some fun with this short form poetry... You Have Risen In My Estimates You have risen in my estimates You are now at 37 That’s a significant improvement -You started at 11 Alan j Wright Haiku Huffiness Haikus get huffy When you don’t play by the rules Watch… Alan j Wright Mov...

Ideas are all around us... They often reveal themselves when we sit or stand still in any given place and take time to indulge in a little close and considered observation. Look and learn moments.  A walk of some 300 metres from my back gate along the reserve to the beach delivered this poetry moment on a winter's walk back in July. It reflected a small, yet notable part of that day's events. As poets, capturing small moments others pass by, forms a significant part of our existence.  I have been waiting to share it with you... Morning Mist  Over Fisherman’s  Beach On this grey, winter’s morning Mist spreads across the bay wispy like cigar smoke  It settles just above the water’s surface Hanging like a stage curtain  Over Fisherman’s Beach Cloaking the horizon with an air Of mystery and intrigue. This perfect backdrop for pirates, smugglers Or secretive sailors, -A haunting morning Complete with shivers. I stand at the shrouded shoreline Peering at the sea ...