Thoughts of a Soo

  Singing as the darkness lifts 27/11/2023 The full moon is somewhere behind the cloud this morning. The air seems to carry the scent of trees, but I am unable to determine what kind. Something in my head is telling me sycamore, and the ground is scattered with sycamore keys so maybe it is. There are poem drafts in my journal as a result of Pascale Petit’s workshop last week and I know I will craft them slowly to relish in the moment and ensure I have squeezed all the poetry out of them that I can and extended them to their fullest selves as poems. There is a slightly different style to what is evolving and that may be resulting from the fact that my second book is now so very close to completion. Yesterday my editor and I worked through some final tweaking to bring the book into fuller clarity for the reader in its structure. This was also the time to discuss the cover. When I heard what Josephine had in mind I felt giddy with excitement. I cannot wait to see what comes back fr

  Singing as the darkness lifts 20/11/2023 I sense a vague smell of disinfectant wafting along on the air, but it is not a crisp clean smell. I do not get any other notes and the morning does not feel as November-cold as it has done lately. Streetlights are brighter than stars this morning, but the stars are there as the sun begins to light the sky. The week saw the opportunity for me to immerse myself in the cinema experience of Dolly Parton launching her new album, ‘Rockstar’. It was wonderful to feel myself pulled into that amazing space of being totally in the moment of joy as the big screen gave me the visuals and the sound surrounded me. I love that feeling. Some of the songs in the album resonate with me from the past and I don’t think I will ever forget the time in a pub when someone asked, “What did you say?” and without a moment’s pause I sang back the lines from “What’s Up?” (I said, hey-ey-ey. Hey-ey-ey. I said, Hey, a-what's going on?". I think you had to be t

  Singing as the darkness lifts 13/11/2023   I am a poet who does not like the smell of petrichor. Last night it rained enough to make puddles on the path, so the smell is not in the air. This pleases me. Instead there is a refreshing, just there, note of herb and I learn that fruit flies too are sensitive to that smell of rain on dry ground.   When I was at school one of the projects involved counting fruit flies. I do not remember the exact logistics, but think it had something to do with tabling the numbers with different markings on their rears. My turn one lunch time resulted in me wracking my brains for the knowledge I needed when I dropped the lid of the fruit fly housing and some of the numbers headed for the freedom of the laboratory ceiling. I didn’t let my group down, but I do think a fruit fly flew up my nose during the process.   Counting things and noticing patterns in the possibly unpatterned has always been part of my wonder of the world and my way of holdin

Singing as the darkness lifts 06/11/2023      This morning the air does not have a hint of fireworks or bonfire smoke and this surprises me. Instead I sense the faint smell of gentle cold which contrasts with the element of incense as I move from the outside in. The moon is beautifully bright and the red light of an aeroplane flashes in contrast to its pure white. I am slow and methodical in my movements this morning taking in the width of new day.      Yesterday I met with my editor to finish going through each of the poems in my new collection. It has been good to revisit each one in turn and to hear myself read my work out loud and then note how it feels when they land for a listener. There has been an element of careful viewing from different angles as we have worked together and I am looking forward to sitting with the whole of the book for final tweaking.      On Tuesday I was the invited host for Top Tweet Tuesday and I spent the day immersed in over