NoPoWriMo #2: Found Poem

Found

Play cook peas

Freezing taste near prayer.

Brothers Conversation say Danger.

Too late

Tower block swallow

Field mission, brave walking.

Poor crawling always

               Found Cloud

This will not run out

This strange dark

Highly present here. 

This poem was inspired by an exercise at #WordsFirst with BBC1Xtra at Contact MCR 

NaPoWriMo: Extract from 'Small Hands'

(...) In the back bedroom is a box

China cracked and glued back together,

Where my milk teeth sour.

I held them in small hands,

quickly too big

and replaced the weight of them

with Fairytales.

I’d never tell you

Just pull on loose teeth

And find magic in the copper of blood

The barbed wire edge 

We found you

In the back bedroom

Plaiting the hair of Barbie dolls

When mine was knot and hairspray backcomb

Tucking the whisper of

Childhood into bed at tea time

As the door slammed behind me 

Guilt rose in a heartburn chest

Where the dance floor turned back to kitchen tiles

You said that ironing

Was a way of remembering

And smile when you found opals in my mouth that I’d mistaken for teeth.

~ Natasha Borton

Where the Words Went

I'm very privileged to have people who notice.
It reminds me to keep posting, to keep writing and keep pressing onwards.

Creativity like any other beast of existing comes in waves. There are times where I am boiling over with productivity, quick firing emails to anyone how will listen, touring open mics and generally making a bit of a nuisance of myself.
There are times that this seems an impossible task.

As some people have noticed my blog was dormant from July last year - I was still performing, my twitter was still active but those small characters were about all I could manage. I stopped reading, reviewing and at times thinking.

See, last July my Nanny passed away - it wasn't unexpected but it still came too soon, it was quick and slow all at once. She was the spark of my childhood, my imagination and the woman who could listen to me prattle on about new poetry, plays, music, books endlessly. She was a lady with Lavender in her hair and love on her fingertips.

When she passed, I was adamant that I would immortalise her in a long spoken word show - I still will, but I allowed the need to explain myself to consume my grief and my creativity didn't respond. It felt like I couldn't do her justice.

Now, I feel ready to get back into the heart of it all. I am writing again and performing with a zeal I haven't felt in months - that is all thanks to the wonderful support of readers, friends, performers and fellow creative. You are all wonderful and you have brought me back gently to the folds of your wisdom and sharing.

So, what better time to spark this blog back into action than NaPoWriMo!

Speak soon,
Natasha x