With Grace

By James Colley

Published 1 January 2021

  1. 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.

 

 

  1. 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

 

 

  1. 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.

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