I've mentioned before that I've joined a Creative Writing From Life class. I'm by no means certain that this class is quite what I'm looking for but, for the time being, it'll do. We are led by a lecturer whose main aim seems to be to create as much distance between the students and herself as she can.
A recent assignment was to write a 'found poem'. Each student was asked to contribute a word, a trigger for a line, twelve in all, the whole to become a poem.
We came up with mundane words like time of day, weather, location, an item of clothing, a colour,a feeling, an allusion to a historical period, a foreign word, a place by water, a relative, a mechanical contrivance, etc. You get the drift.
It proved to be quite hard work. I did several drafts, trying to incorporate as many of the set contexts as I could. In the end the class didn't even discuss the poems we had written. For some reason the lecturer didn't find the time. Perhaps she still will, but as I have worked at it, you shall be the beneficiaries of my efforts. This is the second draft:
Mocked by the thin sun of a February morning
she shut the door on the cocoon of her house.
She shrugged herself deeper into her coat.
Distaste tugged at the corners of her lipsticked mouth.
Spiked heels meticulously picking a path,
her gleaming car received her, purring pleasure,
flattering the tedious road ahead.
Bound for the old house by the sea,
shrouded in memories of long ago,
where faded women kept watch over a past
which was hers too,
grey clouds overwhelmed the last rays of the morning’s sun.
© photo and words USW