BADGER POEMS, METAL SPOONS, AND GENTLE NODS
This morning I stand under three aeroplane contrails to breathe the freshness of the air. The birds are singing the verses that come after dawn chorus, and somewhere far above me there are astronauts in darkness of the moon.
Alt text says this week’s photo is a bottle of pills and a red envelope. I say it is a pill bottle from the Poetry Pharmacy and that the theme for this particular bottle is ‘Badgered’. I also say I am delighted to see my words unfurled from two of the capsules in this selection. I have been a fan of these ‘prescriptions’ for quite some time and love the variety of bottles on offer so it feels particularly cool to have words included.
This week I was dithering about which poem to record for Poem of the Month for my YouTube channel. Fortunately, April Fool’s Day gave me a much-needed inspirational nudge when Matthew MC Smith put out a pretend call for poems about spoons.
As mentioned in my blog in March 2024, a fever that accompanied a virus back then triggered a dream about me turning into a metal spoon and needing to be plucked back from the centre of the earth. This poem had been lingering in my drafts folder since then and so it seemed like a good time to give it a polish and send it into the world. It was also timely in that I had listened on the same day to the Coach Write podcast conversation I had with Helen O’Neill. In that conversation I talked about the importance of reading poetry aloud during the editing process. This reminded me to begin my editing with this strategy, and I am glad I did because what seemed to work on the page sounded clunky and wrong-ordered when read out loud. As a dream inspired poem about spoons I think it now holds its space in the world, and although I was given the wise advice not to count the likes I did chuckle that there was a moment in time when the poem had 1 view and 1 like giving it a temporary ‘100% of viewers like this poem’ rating. Here’s the link if you want to see if you like such things: THE NIGHT I TURNED TO METAL.
For this week’s blog poem I turn to Brock which was written during a poetry workshop with Clare Shaw and Miriam Darlington where the focus was badgers. Hence the picture I chose for this week’s main photograph. I loved the immersion in badger facts and finding out more about these wonderful creatures, and I loved the space in which to write these particular words.
I choose to share this poem again today even though it has been shared in my blog before because for me it has a gentle nod to my lovely Dad who died peacefully just after midnight on 6th April 2025 and today it feels strange to think that a year has passed since this happened. He is worth all the gentle nods.
BROCK
In the dark of night
the silvered wisdom of a badger’s soul
lifts from its body,
rises above that final puff of breath,
leaves behind white bristles and black fur.
On the cusp of day,
in the silence between dust and sparkle,
the echoes are beginning.
Be steady along familiar routes,
mark out your path.
Be the shy, tenacious forager,
know the quiet of nature.
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