Poetic sponges

For the first time in a long time (more than ten years ago I now realise) I went to the Poetry Cafe in Betterton Street for the open mic evening.  It was heaving!  I don't remember it being nearly so full when I was last there.  Still it was good to be back amidst the poetic throng. 

I signed up (of course) and found myself at 6.30 already 14th on the list (note to self, get there earlier next time!).  Luckily for me, as I often morph into some proverbial wallflower a friendly face by the name of Omar suggested we have a chat once I'd signed in so thanks Omar, it was good talking to you and it really helped me relax into the evening which was tagged onto the end of a busy and rather frantic day at work.


When I returned downstairs I was lucky to find seats and I pondered and re-pondered over what to read when my time arrived.  We were told by our MC, Niall, that there were 35 readers - minds and eyes boggled.  We were alloted a strict 5 minutes per reader and if we reached the said time, we would be halted in our tracks, not a thought to be relished.


Well all I can say is that I must speak a lot slower than most as I did two shortish poems, "Flame with no name" and "Inner Garden" followed by (rather optimistically) a longer one "Words just dance" and yes, I was there caught in the headlights like a little wabbit not sure where to wun.  Again note to self, practise reading poems and note times so that next time the bunny can cross the road and dance and whirl back to her seat before the buzzer goes off.  I wasn't the only one left gawping mid-poem and this brought me some relief but it was just sad for the poems to be cut off like that.  Still rules is rules.


Some lovely stuff so thanks to one and all for the poems, sorry I couldn't stay for the second half, the old creative sponge of the mind was fit to bursting.  Hop or hope to see yous all again soon!


Maybe see you at the Take-a-pew private view on 3 June where there'll be some poetry and a chance to make harmonious sounds together..  See http://www.take-a-pew.blogspot.com/ for details.  Or, I'll be at the London Buddhist Centre in Bethnal Green this Saturday (24th) for their Poetry East event at 7.30pm where this time Fiona Sampson will be the visitng poet (last time it was Mimi Khalvati, lovely) - see http://poetryeast.net/  for details.


Wordygirl

heavenly haiku

It has been my pleasure recently to have been introduced to the enchanting form of poetry known as haiku. Only 3 lines long, the lines are formed of 5, 7 and 5 syllables (although this does vary), haiku form very compact little treasures of poetic delight. Almost like a photographic snapshot of a moment the drama of which is tightly packed into a mere 17 syllables. This is a very zen approach to poetry and one which I enjoy both reading and attempting to craft.

The zen-nature of the form is also about the state of mind we need to be in when writing a haiku. We are trying to capture a small moment, a scene, a frame or two in cinematic terms and of course an image can be dense with content and meaning, both obvious and hidden. To then transcribe such a scene we need metaphorically to practically embody the camera and all the equipment needed to manifest a silver print (the type of photograph that is first taken on film, then processed to produced negatives of the image which are then exposed through a photographic enlarger onto photographic paper for just the right amount of time and then chemically induced to birth the image we saw originally through the lens). We need to be acutely aware of when such a moment has been caught on the film of our retina. We then need to "develop" the film by carefully processing the various aspects of the image, digesting the flavour of it and then issuing forth our attempt at conveying the true colour, form and meaning of it with a light touch rather akin to the delicate way that dew rests on rose petals. All this requires great clarity delicacy and free flowing apparent effortlessness. We need to enter the moment we are trying to capture and really let it speak to us so that we can step back out and offer out that moment of magic to others by writing and sharing the haiku.

I have been fortunate in that I have of late been exchanging haiku with a seasoned practitioner of the form and so have been able to sample its delights from a master. It is often by understanding how something works that we are able to produce our own versions is it not?

Joyfully, I have been reminded of this wonderful form at the creative writing class I am attending at Birkbeck with performance poet/ tutor, Anthony Joseph, and it is my pleasure to be asked to create four to five haiku over the next couple of weeks.

So without further ado, here are my latest.


Four legged redness
crosses tarmacked median,
startled in my eyes


Bath water blanket
so neatly encapsulates
traveller's return



Wet platform tactics
eyes darting, spashes abound
so oblivious

(c) Narayani L Guibarra 2010

What we are here for

As a child I was very shy preferring to engage in a world taken in through the eyes and felt with the heart rather than understanding intellectually. I was brought up in the era where it was promulgated that "children should be seen not heard" and for many years I aimed to be pretty invisible.


Over the years I grew in myself and learned how to be seen more and more and gradually heard too. I realise that it has taken me a long time not only to be seen and heard but also to feel comfortable with that. Much of the necessary inner transformation has been due to self reflection, counselling, yoga, teaching, voicework and facilitating workshops to empower others to find their voice and negotiate themselves into yoga postures. This posturing can be thought of as positioning, positioning in one's mind, positioning oneself in life, seeing where we are. I have also done various forms of active meditation, learning to be free in my body and use the space around me to move creatively and become clearer.


All this clearing enables the creativity to flow and although I have written poetry since childhood I now feel as though I am finding my voice and allowing the words to flow through me and onto the page; first thoughts, first words, uninterrupted, uncensored, true. Over the summer I have been writing more poetry. This has in part been encouraged by someone having told me that they love my poetry and would like to collaborate with me creatively. I hadn't really shared my poetry much before through reading it to others, although it is on my website and mspace page, and so have not previously received much comment on it.


And so then began the process of talking about performing and realising that I needed to practise. This summer I have also been "feeding the creative well " more and attending various exhibitions and private views of some artist friends and for this I am grateful to have been included and given an opportunity to engage with other creative people and their work. Through talking to other creative people (and we are all creative beings are we not?) about what I do and allowing myself to "talk myself up" which involves recognising first for myself where I am and what I'm capable of and describing that work in an honest way. This too is a learning processs for we British are so ingrained in the saying "don't blow your own trumpet" . Well who else is going to blow it? And surely if we speak accurately and humbly then it is not arrogance but truth that we speak?


So the other night, for the first time in years, I read out my poetry at a performance evening in an art gallery. It was daunting at first but then on looking around the room I realised that people were engaging with the poems and I began to enjoy the experience, letting go of the internal judge and performing the reading with the emphasis and timing that the poems deserved. In this way people could really connect with the words and the feelings I was conveying and touch into their own experience to find their own meaning. A validating experience for all concerned. 

So here I am, finding my rightful place in the world (or perhaps one of them) and enjoying the moment!! And just to give you a flavour, here's a poem to go with it.


Truly Seeing
Space expanding
time slows down
mysteriously dissolving form into the ether

How many moments indulgently enjoying

the exchange of those spangled beams of light
homed in, locked on
your eyes on mine
my eyes on yours
No thoughts
just being
truly seeing.
(c) 2009 Narayani L Guibarra

Herding and hunting

I remember once reading about a guy whose idea of heaven was to be sitting down to dinner with friends, girlfriends and ex-girlfriends included and everyone getting on with one another.

Well for him I think the emphasis was on the notion of the ex-girlfriends and perhaps present girlfriend getting on together as a group. Essentially simply a group of friends.

Yesterday I was so blessed. Several of my friends some of whom I have known for several years, one or two others who I’ve very recently met and a couple more inbetween, came over to my place for a barbeque in the back garden. From what I could tell everyone seemed to be getting on with one another.

Curiously the males of the group had all positioned themselves on one side of the table leaving the remaining seats for the females. Tribal instinct? Innate herding tendency? The females were certainly curious. Birds of a feather? If so what type of bird one wonders. On being questioned about this male togetherness one of the three explained that it was do with having the “wall” of the garden fence, trees and shrubs behind their backs so that they could survey the scene. Aah, thought we five females, to gaze upon the female form peut etre? No, he informed us, to keep a watchful eye on the food!!

Perhaps a little disappointing for us gals to be put second to the food. But that was just one point of view. Was that the majority opinion one wonders. I suppose though it just symbolises the tribal instinct where survival is foremost. The guys could see what predators might be present and from what angle such menace might approach. What or who could the predators be? I can only guess that us girls were what the guys were protecting the food from. I have to say I was left feeling a little miffed but absolutely had to laugh. And hey, that’s primal instincts for you, you just can’t predict or control them and I guess that’s the beauty of having a bunch of different people round for a social gathering – you can just never tell how its going to turn out!

joy with the juice of life

Having returned from a week in sunny Egypt to an absolute climate shock of snow as we got off the plane it has taken me a while to adjust to being back in Blightey.

However, just the other day I delighted in finding this joyful flower carefully hidden in an orange. It inspired me to take a photo of it - 'see my beauty and rejoice in my juice' it silently whispered - which is exactly what I did - its sweetness mixing beautifully with carrot and apple juice - a sacrifice well worth its short lived life.

It is these small things that can spur us on in our creative and spiritual lives. Just smiling to this juicy flower I thank it for its simple beauty and for the moments of wonder that I enjoyed. It helped me at a time when I actually was not feeling too well and gave me its goodness whole heartedly.

Now I have the energy to promulgate my work, not the least of which is a week in the sunny Charente in France late in June this year, really looking forward to it - a week of sun, yoga and relaxation and perhaps a massage treatment or two thrown in - bliss!!

the joy of new things

Part of being a creative person is to notice with wonder the many small things in life that are wonderful. Here for example is a wonderful design on the back of a new frying pan, beautiful silver segments forming an almost labyrinthical (yes, and create new words too if necessary) design absorbing the colours of its surroundings and reflecting that beauty back out to the viewer.

Alternatively just look inside your coffee cup, best if its the frothy kind or even a hot chocolate and see, when you've finished drinking your chosen hot (or cold) beverage, what the froth, or chocolate, has left behind. There can be all kinds of shapes, symbols, letters even. I do enjoy observing these shapes and though I have trained my eye to see images that perhaps my friends cannot, I do not consider myself to be a professional coffee/ chocolate reader who will assign meaning to the shapes seen in the cup.

Here's the wonderful chocolate picture from today's hot chocolate. At the top there is a lovely heart shape. To the right of this is a suggestion of a paint brush. Below the heart is a smaller heart and then below this can be seen the suggestion of a standing figure rising up out of a crescent chocolate moon where other mysterious figures reside, man or beast who's to say. What can you see?

Anyway, I offer this is a simple suggestion as a playful means of bringing creative observation and fun into your life. Enjoy!! Who knows what you might find in there ...

how to feed the creative urge

Our creative self, like any living thing, needs to be fed. As a plant needs water, light and nutrients, so too our creative self needs to be watered, fed and nurtured and this we can do in a variety of ways:-

• Allow creative thoughts and ideas to come into our mind and take notice of them when this happens.


• Be aware of the myriad ways we may already be allowing our creativity through and this could be through creative cookery, what clothes we choose to put together, how we style our surroundings, house, flat, car, room, what musical tracks we choose to juxtapose on our playlist, how creative we are with our time and resources etc etc etc.

Much of the time we allow our inner critic to come to the fore and fool us that we don’t have the time or resources or talent to be creative. Our job therefore is to talk ourselves up so that the blinkered overly elevated judgments that we impose on ourselves can either be reasoned with or, for the most part, ignored. Yes I am creative, I realise that I use my creativity in my home, my food, my clothes, my music etc. How else can I allow my creativity to come to the fore?

• Jot these thoughts down in some way.


• Talk about ideas with other people and see what bounces off and comes back, be prepared to mould the idea into a slightly new shape.

We can then take the steps to bring our ideas, our musings, our imaginings into the material world by practising our art for the sake of practising it and enjoying the process while in the process as opposed to limiting ourselves in some way perhaps by believing that our creativity can only be measured by some self imposed standard of a successful outcome as in, perhaps, a financially successful way. For example, we can write creatively without necessarily knowing needing to write a book. We can write a song or part of it without having to write an album. We can draw sketches without needing necessarily to transform them into large works of art.

In other words we can enjoy the creative journey and be in the moment or we can crack down on our creative urge and stop before we even begin.

It’s a choice, we have to decide our direction and simply begin.