Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Roll On

May 26, 2010

An interesting project has been floating around for several months.  It focuses on eating disorders and is mostly musical.  Although most of the work is still to come, here is a piece of literature that was written for it. Many anorexics describe their illness as a person.  Essentially they have a relationship with their eating disorder.  In treatment this relationship is challenged and addressed. I hope these words capture some of the inner turmoil.

If I knew of a better way

I would tell you to roll on

Oh so far away

Oh so far away

It’s in your head why won’t you eat?

What my mother says to me

But it’s such a feat

But it’s such a feat

The doctor’s offer a remedy

The potential for recovery

And this year is killing me

With promises it can’t keep

The time I’ve spent on this pursuit

My life with you under wraps

For us, us alone

For us, us alone

I hoped for it all night and day

The answer to my prayers

A new way to live

A new way to live

The doctor’s offer a remedy

The potential for recovery

And this year is killing me

With promises it can’t keep

With you it’s so easy

One hour of this

No time for that

I always listen

To your sage advice

My life makes sense with you in it

The doctor’s offer a remedy

The potential for recovery

And this year is killing me

With promises it can’t keep

I Blame Home Video

October 27, 2009

Pathology is meaningless to the passage of time.
And shallow words hold this life hostage
On a boat moored to the shore
This legacy is boundless
Impatient
Transcribed to thousands of pictures
Beaming needlessly from coast to coast
Yet savagely you introduce new thoughts
A language unencumbered by mystery
Clarity is the most desired thing
Forward we move and outward we crumble
So only the inside remains
Time
Time a fantasy
A life worth calculating
Replicating after a memory
Preserved
Captured and questioned as a fugitive
From dozens of years
In the wilderness
Lost, stumbling
Angry, colliding
This is the only moment
The lasting premonition
You are my only visitor
Because all that’s left
Is seconds
Second to nothing

A Potter Of Plans

May 29, 2009

Every good song must come to an end
Even as I beg for the notes to carry on
It’s only the sound of your voice
That keeps me moving forward from day to day
When the music settles
As snow on the porch
I stumble backwards into my head
And the senseless shame
With layers of sorrow
Crowd me again as if I am alone
I walk to the record player
Slide the needle back
So I can listen again to my love
Spinning your words and rhymes

Peter Snow

The Notes

Today is an exciting day at The Alder Fork.  My first publication, Potter of Plans Poems About Canada, has just arrived in hard copy form.  If you would like a copy drop me a line at thealderfork@gmail.com, or you can get it at blurb.com by clicking the link on the sidebar.  At the link you will also find a 15 page preview of the book so you can get a sense of it before buying.  Very shortly I will be launching a store at thealderfork.esty.com to sell the books and my albums.  Once again the book is $10 plus shipping if you don’t  live within drop off distance.

After Many Years

May 19, 2009

Your eyes do not deceive you, there is indeed a link to my new book over on the sidebar.  Potter of Plans: Poems About Canada is a collection of my poems about this country. Some have appeared on this very blog in recent weeks, and there are many more in the book. You can order it through that link, or if you know me I can get you a copy when the first ones arrive in a couple of weeks.

I have long wanted to do this, and The Alder Fork has given me the confidence and ability to do so.  The collection represents the sum of my poetry from the last 6 months.  Obviously, I have rejected some of my output in order to put the best material in the book.  I have been quite pleased with what my imagination has come up with lately.

In honour of this auspicious occasion I offer you yet one more poem from this collection:

Short Note of Thanksgiving

Blue
It’s the colour I remember most
You used it
In all of the paintings you sold me
I wish
I wish I could buy more
But money
Is always tight around here
My fault?
Not with this economy
But really
The paintings were lovely
Thank you

A Sliding Double

May 15, 2009

I’ve slowly been tempting you with poems over the last little while. Since I am off to a Blue Jays-Yankees game this evening I thought I’d leave you with this:

Victoria Park

You could hardly believe that I was here
60 years later
A patch of dirt and a grassy hill
Were the last connection between us
You were taller and with a heavier bat
Cleared the fence
The gathered fans
And the trees beyond
I was lucky if the ball dropped in
For a single or a sliding double
I imagine you were as light on your feet
And that while I snagged line drives
Before they could touch the earth
You would twirl your arm
And snap your wrist
To say goodnight to another pretender
A big hitter
The grandstand is empty today
But I’ve seen the pictures
When ladies
Gentleman
And suit wearing children
Crammed together
To catch a game
Many people still pass by
Through 7 innings
But they are focused on the road
Or their dogs
Or the sunset in the distance
In the top of the 6th
I let my mind wander
To a different time in space
When you stood out on that mound
And destroyed their dreams
With speed and movement
Clever spins
Crooked breaks
Until a snap of the wrist
Accompanied by a furious swing
Restores my attention

A Short Piece

April 28, 2009

A poem from an upcoming collection:

Mail Order Surprise

They say I bribed the shopkeeper
To sell it to me at half the price
“There’s no way, you could buy it
Not on your salary”
I said, “How do you know
What I make in a month
And quality is worth it”
Why would I tell them my secret?
That the Italians had it
On special
Because they don’t know the value
Of a space heater
In Pickle Lake
In January

Super Sunday Indeed

February 2, 2009

Bones sinking like stones, all of us are done for.

Coldplay

Don’t Panic

A trip down memory lane for me today as I returned to St. Jerome’s once again for the SJ Carnival. I was a little disappointed that the annual football game was scrapped to due a lack of faculty/staff/alumni attendance. But I did get some fun ball hockey in.  Being back at SJU reminded me of the above song.  Dave and I played it at many coffeehouses over our 4 years as students.

As I have been there all day, and the Super Bowl is tonight, this will be a short post.

When I was chatting with Emily during the last podcast I was chatting off-air with her about my connection to the world of design.  I came to appreciate the work of designers through an interest in sports uniforms.  I will probably do a larger post about some of my favourites in the future, but for the moment I want to mention a blog that I have followed for over a year. Uniwatch is the place to find information about uniforms and logos, from the past, present, and future.  Anything I know about graphic design probably comes from reading posts and comments on that blog. The site founder Paul Lukas has parlayed a love of sports aesthetics and his writing career into a job with ESPN as their uniform guru. If you like sports I’d recommend poking around a bit to see if you like the jersey as much as the action.

Just a reminder that the deadline for the Poetry Contest is nearly upon us. I will be accepting late entries this week as I am a generous guy. Details are here.

Don’t Forget to Write

January 11, 2009

I met my old lover on the street last night, she seemed so glad to see me I just smiled, and we talked about some old times and we drank ourselves some beer, still crazy after all these years.

Paul Simon

Still Crazy After All These Years

It’s hard to believe that Paul Simon is so old now.  He once sang about being 21 years old, and was still a young man when he wrote the song quoted above.  I have included it because it is a clue to the topic of Monday’s podcast. You’ll just have to listen to find out. Mr. Simon has always been a hero of mine. His songwriting is unsurpassed. I consider him the model for how to make great music. I don’t directly copy his style, but I look at his willingness to expand his musical vision and embrace other ideas to improve his own songwriting.  He is also capable of capturing a feeling, a mood, or a scene in his lyrics in an authentic and dynamic way.  Hearing a Paul Simon penned song means genuinely stepping into the experience of another person to live their life for a few moments.  He maintains a thread of wit and satire in many of his songs, from the social commentary of A Most Peculiar Man and Keep the Customer Satisfied to the pop culture critique of A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert Macnamara’d Into Submission) or the bitter You Don’t Know Where Your Interest Lies.  Although his career has waned in recent years he is a songwriter and performer who will continue to influence others as long as the radio keeps playing Sound of Silence and Cecilia.

With the snow falling again here in Hamilton, for perhaps the twentieth time this year, I am using this post to remind you of an important event. Namely the first ever The Alder Fork From Worst to First Poetry Contest. All the gory details can be found here. In the spirit of providing you with inspiration I am including the following poem. It is called Letters and tells the tale of two lovers separated by war.  It is from a collection of poems about life in Canada. Enjoy.

Letters

You begged me to stay here
To forget my heroic dreams
Because love was more important
But I didn’t believe you
I was a man
I had a mission
I had honour
I am proud and I believe
That I cannot fail
And now I have
Not only my nation
Not only my comrades
Not only my self
But most painfully you
As we stood alone
Counting the hours
While you cried and insisted
I promised
That I was a man
Who would return to you
Because I was wise
And I was strong
And my faith and my pride
Would carry me far
But it did not
And for that I am sorry

I begged you to stay
To give up on your dreams
For our love was important
Enough to forget pride
I was a girl
I had no secrets
I was innocent but not naïve
I did not suffer
And now I have
Not only for loss
Not only for love
Not only for me
But for you
I can see all your life
No longer before you
I once cried and insisted
I now sit alone
You didn’t come back to me
I was your life
But you followed your dream
You stayed with your faith
But it took all your strength
Stole it away from you
Left you with nothing
I should’ve tried harder
And for that I am sorry