Doorway Writing Group August 2017

Writing Group August 2017
Our Writing Group had the pleasure of a visitor today: the charming Josh who is hoping to set up a creative writing hub in Swindon (initially via breakfast and lunch clubs) and beyond that to involve youth theatre groups in drama projects revolving around issues of homelessness. He seemed pleased at the opportunity to chat with some of our guests – especially those involved with the writing group – and has hopefully gone away fired up and ready to launch his exciting ideas in September.
Today’s Writing Group crossword generated the usual level of interest and two guests – the wonderful J and K – contributed some writing for you to enjoy: two poems and Jakarta memoirs part 3. Happy reading!
Tidying up (a poem by J)
Taking a look at myself
A frame to keep the world without
Peace within
And that is where my heart belongs

Taking a look around
Torn and crumpled memories
Mended, reassembled
Fragments of the sun
Where my heart belongs

Taking a look at you
An anchor when my life
is drifting
A smile for my pain
is lifting
Every precious grain
is shifting
All things must pass
To stand at last
And that’s where my heart belongs

Kandu Kicks Tournament 2017 (a poem by J)
A red kite soars above the fields of Stanley
as the driveway unravels
a gentle descent to Stanley Park.

The changing rooms are buzzing like a beehive
Teams emerge in multi-coloured procession
A shattering of rainbows.

On the pitch we find,
people are kind
We didn’t win but never mind.
There’s still a goal in front
and a goal behind.

Antics and injuries
Graces and furies
A day well spent
Our innocent intent.

Standing in line
The cups awarded, speeches made
and people applauded.
Changed again, back on the road
Off to reclaim the rainbow goal.

Djakarta Memories Part 3 (by K)
Building the tent was something of an exercise in trial and error, it being a new tent, and a new ‘tent master’, who seemed to know as little about it as everybody else. Never the less at the third attempt and after the fourth tropical deluge (of rain) it eventually stood fairly respectably. The seating had come from a different tent and wasn’t quite the same shape as the tent we were using but after two weeks we had managed to assemble everything and rehearsals began. There were four Italian acrobats, five Italian clowns, a German troupe who both rode a motorbike along a steel cable and balanced on ‘sway poles’, 10 metres above the ground, five American trapeze artists, two of whom also did a second aerial act. The animals were presented by people called Chipperfield, except the tigers for whom a German trainer had been engaged.

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