Readers of the blog postcards from… will be familiar with Leonie’s ability to capture and distil a moment through photography and gentle words. What they may not know is that she has a devilish sense of humour, excellent taste in wine and is totally the first person I would call if I ever got arrested again (that is, if she isn’t locked up with me).
A few months ago, she sat in the chair in my study and finished the poem that is printed with this post. Later that day we drove to Gloucestershire to spend the weekend with the awesomest bunch of ladies. And before everyone else arrived, we had one of those crazily-amazing, serendipitous moments as we realised we had lived in neighbouring houses, 12,000 miles away in New Zealand. The universe totally hooked us up.
I am very excited to announce that Leonie’s first volume of poetry ‘All of a sudden…’ is now available to purchase online. I also have a copy to give away – just share your favourite poem with us in the comments.
The might see me naked, or
notice hairs, frothing out the sides
of my knickers – the granny ones
purchased to try and disguise the inevitable
pull of gravity that my stomach is
falling prey to.
There’s a possibility that I forgot
to shave my legs,
and right now black hairs are
preparing themselves to burst forth
in a dozen directions as soon as
they’re released from the confines
of my jeans. I don’t have any way
of checking to see if my eyebrows
are similarly shaped, aside from
peering into the dirty windows
of the underground. Maybe
I could ask to borrow the mirror
from the woman sitting next to me
when she’s finished applying her
make-up. As soon as I peel off
my outer garments, they will surely see
my flabby arms and the way my
tits are sagging.
Shit.
They might even see me naked.
~ Leonie Wise, 2010
Comments
Long Years apart – can make noBreach a second cannot fill -The absence of the Witch does notInvalidate the spell -The embers of a Thousand YearsUncovered by the HandThat fondled them when they were FireWill stir and understand -(Emily Dickinson, c. 1876)
That poem? Brilliance in sensible knickers.I return to the one below whenever I want a cheap giggle. And now that I've seen your prowess at this form of poetry, Sas, it makes me think of you.Homesick HaikuLonging for Japana haiku plotted escapefrom this snow white page.Wanting to be readby porcelain faced Geishasunder cherry treeswhere blossom falls onpoignant tea ceremoniesand moments of loveare caught on the wingand made elegantly stilllike moths in amber,the haiku planned tostretch itself down like a blindto the page's end,then slip from underthe cover, just shapes of inkhopping on a laptable or duvetunnoticed. The poem aimedto hitchhaiku homewith a businessman,but died in kamikazesyllabic excess.— Ian Wild, one of my favourite Irish poets and writers.Oh, and don't worry about entering me in the draw. I am buying my own cherished copy of Ms Wise's words very soon.
And by Irish, of course I mean that he is an English expat who has been (understandably) appropriated by Ireland.
Beannacht("Blessing") On the day whenthe weight deadenson your shouldersand you stumble,may the clay danceto balance you. And when your eyesfreeze behindthe grey windowand the ghost of lossgets in to you,may a flock of colours,indigo, red, green,and azure bluecome to awaken in youa meadow of delight. When the canvas fraysin the currach of thoughtand a stain of oceanblackens beneath you,may there come across the watersa path of yellow moonlightto bring you safely home. May the nourishment of the earth be yours,may the clarity of light be yours,may the fluency of the ocean be yours,may the protection of the ancestors be yours.And so may a slowwind work these wordsof love around you,an invisible cloakto mind your life. ~ John O'Donohue ~
i would hazard a guess that i would be more likely to be sitting next to you in the clink saying things like "shit, that was awesome and so totally worth it" than coming to bail you out.i have a lot of favourite poetry. one of them is:love is more thicker than forgetlove is more thicker than forgetmore thinner than recallmore seldom than a wave is wetmore frequent than to failit is most mad and moonlyand less it shall unbethan all the sea which onlyis deeper than the sealove is less always than to winless never than aliveless bigger than the least beginless littler than forgiveit is most sane and sunlyand more it cannot diethan all the sky which onlyis higher than the sky(e.e.cummings)and it's totally how i feel about you lady. fact.
oh, and i notice you didn't mention the fact that we totally committed a crime on the drive to the cottage!!:D
Favourite poem. Woman EnoughBecause my grandmother's hourswere apple cakes baking,& dust motes gathering,& linens yellowing& seams and hemsinevitably unravelingI almost never keep housethough really I like houses& wish I had a clean one.Because my mother's minuteswere sucked into the roarof the vacuum cleaner,because she waltzed with the washer-dryer& tore her hair waiting for repairmenI send out my laundry,& live in a dusty house,though really I like clean housesas well as anyone.I am woman enoughto love the kneading of breadas much as the feelof typewriter keysunder my fingersspringy, springy.& the smell of clean laundry& simmering soupare almost as dear to meas the smell of paper and ink.I wish there were not a choice;I wish I could be two women.I wish the days could be longer.But they are short.So I write whilethe dust piles up.I sit at my typewriterremembering my grandmother& all my mothers,& the minutes they lostloving houses better than themselves& the man I love cleans up the kitchengrumbling only a littlebecause he knowsthat after all these centuriesit is easier for himthan for me.Erica Jong
@titanium: in a random (and very complicated) draw involving rex and food representing entries, i'm happy to send a copy of leonie's book.i'll email :)
Leaving behind a smile.
Wooo-Hoooo! Ima winnah! :)Thank you, Sas.
Hmmm, now I really do have to find that next paying gig to buy the book. Thanks for giving us the chance to win anyhow.
iknow i am too late but i love a chance to share a poem… this is a haiku from one of my heroes…Elizabeth CunninghamDon't dim your joyyou might be a distant staron someone's dark nightlots of love from another kiwi!
Ti sent me….have a feeling i will be back…very nice.
And Ti sent me too. Great stuff. I’ll be back!
brian & pattip – welcome!