Is it Tuesday Today?

Is it Tuesday today?

I need a little poem,
just a little poem -
any type of poem will do...

No, sorry I'm barren this week - next week - if I start early I'll be able to focus a little better - 

It's been a big week, my husband completed 71 troops for the WWI diorama that will be on the display in the Dominion Museum over Anzac, sorry no pictures allowed!!! :) My daughter reached her second decade, so for Hobbit fans she is now officially a tweenie! (And as she was a Hobbit extra that's about right)...

Lost in the Museum SJV awards: A.J. Ponder
(editor), Eileen Mueller (sub-editor) and Geoff
Popham (artist) with Sir Julius Vogel looking on.

 

 

 

And in book related news, I was involved with a book that won two Sir Julius Vogel awards, okay so one was for cover-art, by the amazing Geoff Popham who is on the left holding his Sir Julius Vogel Award. (Actually it's a stand in award because Weta has been too busy with the WWI diorama - but he will get one just like it very soon!)  and the other was for the anthology itself, which I was heavily involved in. Helping with typesetting, design, coralling authors, and gluing all the stories in Lost in the Museum together with commentaries by Tui Merriweather. Believe it or not Tui was quite a tricky character to work with, we didn't even have her correct name until the last minute, and without Eileen Mueller (in the centre holding the book), and Lorraine Williams (almost as elusive as Tui Merriweather herself), she would never have come out of the shadows in quite the same way.

Lost in the Museum was written by Phoenix Authors Writing Group and invited authors including Lyn McConchie, Phillip Mann, Tim Jones and Glyn Maclean, and is available in many Libraries, and good New Zealand bookstores, (including Children's Bookshop & Rona Gallery), and of course Amazon.

Tuesday Poem: Caput Lupinum

Down the highway
through the forest
there's this signpost
to this cabin
in the woods


Turn back

There's a scarecrow
by the signpost
to the
cabin
in the woods

Turn back

Down the highway
through the forest
there's a scarecrow
by the signpost,
warning you
about the
cabin
in the woods

Turn Back Now

So you didn't turn back
and now you're in
the cabin
in the woods
where a wolf's head's
weighing hearts

Close the door

And do not touch
the vaults may be lined with gold
but there are monsters
lurking near the cabin
in the woods
and they eat
highway robbers
with heavy hearts
for breakfast

A.J. Ponder

Obviously, for those that know it, this poem was a little inspired by Joss Whedon's Cabin in the Woods. 

Have a happy Tuesday, and stay on the grid


A.J. 
Author of Quest, Prophecy, Omens, Miss Lionheart and the Laboratory of Death, Wizard's Guide to Wellington, Attack of the Giant Bugs - a You Choose Science Adventure, and The Frankie Files

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi   And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024: https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

 

 

Tuesday Monsters:

For the Little Monsters:

I had a little monster
as monstrous as can be
I gave it bread and honey
in front of the tv

it grew a bluish colour
with eyes of scarlet red
so I took my little monster
and put it down to bed

I had a little monster
it howled all through the night

To be continued.... hopefully (a little bit stuck!)



Been very busy with The Best of Twisty Christmas Tales PledgeMe and also with the Rona Gallery opening - doing things like organising newsletters and promotion for the re-opening of Rona Gallery. Looking forward to Gino Acevedo opening the evening, his art is pretty amazing - and also pretty monstrous, which totally fits today's monster theme! :)

Have fun and check out the other offerings at The Tuesday Poem, I wish I had the time...soon though...And really looking forward to it. :)

A.J.

The Tuesday Birthday Poem Conundrum

This is the week I am supposed to add my piece to the Tuesday Birthday Communal Poem - a jazzy number in self contained stanzas:

So comments anyone? - will almost certainly decide something completely different and post the minute I get out of school - hopefully before 4 - in the meantime - why not check out all the other verses that this is riffing off - :) here at the 3rd-birthday-communal-jazz-poem I think I already said that....

(PLEASE NOTE THE ACTUAL POEM IS NOW IN - and is neither of the poems below - I think it's much better and its here - the 12th stanza - at the 3rd-birthday-communal-jazz-poem)

12

Breathe, Lily, the air is rising

the yarn is fresh

the night is young

for hunting

12.

Breathe, Lily, the air is rising

the meter fresh out of notes

so easily plucked -

for this night

we go hunting

cheers,
A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

Tuesday Poem: Tuesday Fragmented (or Treasure Hunt)

Readers, listeners, fellow poets, I have decided to do a "found" poem with all the other Tuesday poems,it's been constructed over the two nights as poems have come in - I'm half hoping there will be a couple more.

(What I said after the first three lines) ok - I'm pretty sure this is the beginning - but where everything else fits in is going to be a lovely surprise - I might even have to change my choices below a little to try to ensure a cohesive whole.  What fun! 

What I say now:  Um.... I'll be back to visit probably to see if I can tidy a few things...

Tuesday Fragmented: (or Treasure Hunt :)

We’ll bivouac in the wind                                           Chant for the Return Home, by Mary Cresswell

careering magnificently along the harbour’s edge      Morning with my grandmother” by Ingrid Horrocks

one wing askew                                                                                Death of a Bee by Kathleen Jones 

below cadmium sky, in oily air,          The Autistic Cloudboy Visits Auckland Art Gallery by Siobhan Harvey

quick breaths of swooping wonder, multiplied                                                       Budgerigar by P.S. Cottier

until

for hastily imagined demigods                                                                 This is Not a Drill by Zireaux  

-wrought with golden and silver light,                  Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, by W B Yeats

hung aloft the night                                                                                         Bright Star by John Keats

it's time to                                        Segment of Tuesday communal birthday poem by Mary McCallum

fall,
lost

in all this world                                                             The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes, jazz poet

the wet sheep stand blinking                                                                   the intercity by Vivienne Plumb 

upon the grass                                                                                                  Revenant by Tim Jones

A.J. (compilation of Tuesday poems Tue 9 April 2013)
please note - each line is linked to the Tuesday Blog in which it was found.

PS - fellow poets do not despair - so it didn't quite work as well as planned (all those annoying tenses, made my cunning ruse a little less cunning than I'd hoped.)

but just remember...

do not despair,

Tuesday may be tense, torn, fragmented -

but never forgotten.

                                                                                                    

Tuesday Poem hub

Cheers, everybody and have a wonderful week - and don't click on the feather because it's having technical issues - just click on this link to fly to the Tuesday hub, where a community poem is growing beautifully. 


cheers,
A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

Hunting the Wild Goose

Remember,

the road to hell is paved with poems,

First, catch your poem,

entice it with sweetmeats and chicken,

watch carefully,

a feral poem may turn on you at any instant,

metaphors - extended

personification about to bite

A kittenish sense of humour

will tickle you into a fisherman's arms

or tear you to shreds with good intentions,

so it's best to use armour piercing bullets

to ensure you are the hunter and not the hunted.

Caged, a wild poem is practically worthless,

so why should our intrepid poet

sludging through mud and malaria

to bring back only death and decay.

Truth is, it's hard to say,

maybe it’s the beat of the jungle

the breathy wild entrancing lies

Maybe it's the thrill of the chase

or the trophy hung upon the wall

Or maybe

just maybe,

its none of these things at all.

A.J. Ponder 

Trawling through lots of old poems - and thought this feels like a beginning of the year poem - so it's quite appropriate to post it on the official beginning of my Tuesday Poem Blog for 2012.  

Now of course there are plenty of other lovely poets and poems up on the Tuesday Poem blog, and it's so exciting for everybody to be up and running again I know I'll be dropping in to see what's happening.  But only very quickly because with all the story organising and house painting, tree felling...  I'm kind of exhausted.  :)  Have a great week everybody.  

A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

The Witness

Nose up to the window,

noises in the night

- a catch of breath -

a curtain draws

your face

it's hard as any wall

lies are caught in promises

with no words at all.

And if you did see mischief

dark pools within more dark

play it dumb

is smart, my sweet

-now-

don't turn on the light

when you count up all the numbers

and learn the plates by heart

and forget those pesky faces

lest you forget your part.

Nose under the covers,

silence in the night

a curtain call before your face

as hard as any wall

lies are caught in silencers

there are no words at all.

A.J. Ponder


This was rather inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson's The Smuggler's Song - here - which just happens to be an all-time favourite of mine.   Same theme, but modernised and with catches of breath in amongst the meter.  Anyway it was fun to write - thanks Mary M. And a real !$@##$%^$# as well because of the balancing act between rhyme, metre and tone. 

The picture is Jared Diamond's Guns Germs and Steel, which on the face of it isn't particularly relevant - and then on second thoughts isn't particularly relevant.  But I saw it and immediately thought  - what a great book that was, almost as good as his "Collapse"  which has to be a must for any apocalyptic writer. :)  And besides if you are reading this I'm sure you have enough imagination to fill in the blanks.   And I'll keep an eye out for something more appropriate... but in the meantime I have so much writing to do. 

:)

Cheers everyone, here's to the beginning of 2012 - now up and running....

A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

An appreciation of action soundtracks in suburbia

The car is

carrying an orchestra

out

on a mission.

Excitement tumbles by

on the beach

on the beleaguered wharf

                                    in the air -

even the birds find new purpose

        as they      strike

into the clouds

eyes peeled

in wonder

as even the sea is

ruffled,

nervous,

opaque,

unsure             

with impending danger.

Across the harbour

buildings

hide

behind cloud,

planes disappear

and  reappear

as we drive                 

in time

to heroically  

face

                          danger

every vital

second

                       until the   

 final triumphant overtones

transport us

                         all the way               
                                          to                 
                                             Wellington. 
A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

An Essay of Meaning

It's strange how these things happen. Wanted to create a blog for the Tuesday Poem group.
Couldn't.
No cell phone. No account.
Hang on, I thought. This is crazy.
So for luck I put in my e-mail and my once-favourite password.
Presto. There it was an account - pre made. Obviously knew this day would come.
Cheers for reading. It's going to be about the poetry. Can't bear over analysis. I like simple truths, clear fresh language and occasionally rhyme (bad me).
I may not be part of the Tuesday blog yet, but here's the poem anyway. It's conception was only about 25 years ago. Bout time it was aired.

An Essay of Meaning

Picking the flesh
Delicately,
Eating elegantly
With such forethought

The tempting treat
Screams silently.
Assimilated endlessly
Under the knife.

The molecules mixed
And analysed,
With such strong digestive juices,
are added to --
and thereby diminished.

A..J. Ponder