Have you been looking for ways to connect with your mind and emotions? As you know, reading and writing poetry is so much more than rhymes, sequence and expanding your linguistic capabilities. Poetry can be emotional and engage your heart.
Timaru District Libraries have a request: submit your poetry about your thoughts and feelings about being in lockdown. There are some great prizes to be won. Check out their Facebook page for details: facebook/timarudistrictlibraries
While I am by no means a poet, I thought I would give it a go. I found this challenge really relaxing. Through the journey I realized a little bit more about my current state and felt a sense of calm getting it out onto paper in an abstract way...
I didn't really know where to start. Then I remembered a conversation I had a while ago with Rhian Gallagher. read-nz.org/gallagher-rhian. She was raised in Timaru and has a wonderful skill in creative writing. I remember she ran a series of poetry workshops at the Aigantighe once and was telling me about them. One of the sessions asked people to relate themselves to a colour. So this is my humble attempt inspired by her suggestion written this morning during lockdown.
We would love to read your creative writing. Share with our Facebook page, add these hash tags to your Facebook posts #WriteAPoemAtHome #FindAWuHoo or email them to us This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
I Am Blue
I am the trickle of Aoraki glacial melt
I am the cloud of rocky flour in the lake
I am the roar of a hydro dam spilling
I am the current of the river below
I am the stillness of the salty lagoon
I am the sparkle on a Patiti breaker
I am the rolling of coastal fog
I am the steam rising to the heavens again
I am blue
Roselyn Fauth 2020
Want to read more?
There are some wonderful Timaru poems here: sites.rootsweb/poetry
Timaru Herald, 9 June 1882, Page 3: An address delivered by Thomas Bracken in the Theatre Royal, Wellington, on the occasion of a performance given for the benefit of suffers by the disaster at Timaru, in May, 1882: "The Theatre Royal in Wellington was crowded on Monday evening last to witness the entertainment given in aid of the sufferers by shipping disaster at Timaru. The chief incident of the entertainment was reading of the following lines by Mr Thomas Bracken, M.H.R., which were gratefully cheered by the large audience as conveying the exact sentiments of each one present." - paperspast/THD18820609.2.26
THE LATE WRECKS OF TIMARU
Who are Earth's heroes ? Who are they that claim
A shrine immortal in their country's breast,
A niche within the citadel of fame,
Or, higher still, a home among the blest?
One answers: "They are those who in the fight
Win heav'n's approval and the world's applause ;
The men who die for justice and for right -
The men who bleed for freedom's holy cause."
Another answers: "Heroes lead the van
Of Peace and Progress in the march of mind,
And spread God's treasures at the feet of man,
And shed the rays of knowledge o'er their kind. "
Ay, these and those are heroes, true and brave,
Whose deeds and words are treasured, fond and fast -
Whose memories are untarnished by the grave ;
Heroes who build the future on the past,
And raise a stately edifice above
The Gulf of Ages, filled with blood and tears,
A human temple round whose shrine of love,
All men shall gather in the coming years.
But there are other heroes on the earth -
Heroes who often sow but never reap
The seed of glory 'til the Second Birth ;
Heroes' who often sink and fall asleep
In duty's arms, unnoticed and unknown -;
Heroes who for their fellows nobly die,
Heroes whose dirge is ocean's solemn moan,
Such are the heroes whom we honor here,
Men who have passed on to the light beyond ;
And those they held in life most true and dear,
Appeal to us for aid - shall we respond?
What were their deeds? We open up the scene�
Behold a spreading city by the sea,
Belted by sunny slopes and plains if green
And skirted by the foam of breakers- free,
That leap and dance for joy along the shore,
Racing like white-haired children on the sand,
Babbling their mother ocean's mystic lore,
Whisp'ring her secrets to the silent land.
A sabbath calm is resting o'er the place,
And souls are soaring upward from their clay.
Celestial smiles gild Nature's tranquil face,
And Thought flies far above life's little day.
Out on the sleeping waves tall vessels ride
At anchor, all is calm. Ah! will it last?
Look yonder, look! here comes a storm-spent tide;
The murmuring fury of the distant blast
Sweeps in upon us. God! we're lost! we're lost!
The boats ! the boats ! now pull for land and life !
They're off! they're safe! they land! though billows tossed
And breakers dashed around them in the strife.
But lo! along the shore the cry is raised,
" Man, man the life-boat !" and a willing band
Rush forward at the call. The crowd, amazed,
Behold the gallant fellows leave the land,
And plunge through seething surf and furious foam.
"Hurrah ! Hurrah ! God speed ye gallant hearts !"
Ah ! well might they exclaim, " God speed ye home !"
God took them home: the tear of pity starts,
But not for those who went, but those who weep
For husbands vanished, and for fathers gone;
Be ours the task to honour them that sleep,
By helping those they loved, now left alone ;
Be ours the task�nay, friends, 'tis not a task,
It is a debt of duty we've to pay.
God speaks to us when babes and widows ask ;
We hear His voice in theirs, and we obey.
Thomas Bracken 1882
