With Grace
By James Colley
Published 1 January 2021
-
This Is Not A Poem
I am in love with a girl
who does not understand the treachery of images
who wants me to open doors
doors that aren’t really doors, doors that would lead her away
from me
She wears a watch, small and plastic
with a little clown fish on the band
from a story about a parent
who holds too tightly and loses their child
all the same
She rescued it from an op shop
and placed it on her wrist
and checks it obsessively
as she toddles from place to place; from important meetings
with a teddy bear
to a quick tête-à-tête with mum, regarding whether
she should be allowed
to eat hot chips
for breakfast
she checks the watch all day long
even though it’s broken
and the hands do not move
and even if they did,
she cannot tell the time
and I see her check the broken watch
and I wish that it was right, and that time
had stopped
for good.
-
Roland In The Deep
Barthes once said,
(and the crowd goes mild),
that after first avowal, the i-love-you word
has no meaning whatsoever
(and far be it from me)
But Barthes,
(here we go),
who is dead for real this time,
(and stay down),
never heard the words said,
by an eighteen month old,
then two years,
then, two years and three months,
then, two years, three months, and several days,
and on and on and on
(as the author lives)
each time given new meaning
as she slowly learns what it means
to say
(and to repeat)
to hear
and most important, to feel
i-love-you
i-love-you
i-love you
-
I See You
my daughter plays peek-a-boo,
but I don’t disappear
well, one day I will, one day I will
and there will be egg on her face!
I’ve been preoccupied with permanence
ever since a terrible clerical error saw me born mortal.
I read a scientist who argues that, in fact
the world does disappear every time we look away
no, no, stay, please stay
then returns again when we open our eyes
peek-a-boo!
oh, thank god.
but then, it is also being destroyed
when I don’t look away
and can’t look away
and can only cover her eyes
and hope it disappears
and there’s egg on my face
The world is a dark and serious place. Poetry doesn't need to be. Make me smile. Make me laugh.
James Colley
#30in30 writing prompt
For a long time, I think the answer was a closed door. I felt like poetry belonged to people with a better education and, you know, more interesting thoughts. And who were more…serious. I've never been a serious person. I like jokes. I like things to be fun and funny and bring joy.
I love poetry, I love to read it. I love to study it, but I never thought of writing it. I don't know why. I just felt like it wasn't for me. And then, as I’ve grown I feel like I’ve realized that poetry is about capturing a moment, and a thought, and a feeling - and that the wholeness of human experience is everyone's.
Poetry is about that capturing of a moment and holding it tightly enough that you can feel it, but not so tightly that you destroy it. And that's such an interesting balance to me. It's delicate, and I feel like to find a way in the efficiency of language, in the artistry of language, to evoke that feeling is not too dissimilar to how in comedy we are finding the fastest route to a joke, the fastest way to evoke a feeling in you.
And so I'm interested to enter this place, and I’m terrified to step into the world of poetry. I'm sorry for breaking into your house, but I hope you enjoy what I've done with the place. Thank you for having me.
