The Body
THE BODY
(A Villanelle poem)
Was she killed out of love or revenge?
The lifeless body we found,
The day we went to Stonehenge.
An elegant body with a blueish tinge,
Sleek long limbs tightly bound.
Was she killed out of love or revenge?
Discovered under a thorny hedge
By our old excitable hound.
The day we went to Stonehenge.
By her side a bloody wrench,
Dark flies encircling the ground.
Was she killed out of love or revenge?
I could not bear the hefty stench
As I surveyed the ghostly mound.
The day we went to Stonehenge.
I escaped to a dingy bench,
Breathless, not making a sound,
The day we went to Stonehenge.
Was she killed out of love or revenge?
Copyright © Poem by Margaret Yeo~All rights reserved
A Magical Experience
Assignment~~~
Stealing – Imaginative Lies
Write a poem about stealing something unusual, unlikely or improbable - a cloud, a hole, the sun or moon, hate or fear or love, a river.
Have some fun, the more unlikely the better
Stealing – Imaginative Lies
Write a poem about stealing something unusual, unlikely or improbable - a cloud, a hole, the sun or moon, hate or fear or love, a river.
Have some fun, the more unlikely the better
A Magical Experience
I saw them in the charity shop window, the final piece to enable me to put my elaborate plan into action.
A Harry Potter set, consisting of a book of spells, a magic wand and a large navy blue cloak. Excitedly I paid the elderly shop assistant and took my purchases home. The next few weeks were spent studying my book of spells, when I felt confident I set out to accomplish my bizarre plan.
I awoke bright and early dressed and wearing my new cloak caught a train to London, then battled on the tube to Baker Street station, I walked along Marylebone Road until I reached my destination; Madame Tussauds.
I bought a ticket and made my way around the exhibits selecting my subjects. Satisfied I put the next stage of my plan into action.
Half an hour before closing time with butterflies in my stomach I found a dark secluded corner, pulling my heavy cloak round me I became invisible. I waited here until the doors closed and all the staff departed; to kill time I ate my cheese and pickle sandwich that I had brought with me in my rucksack along with my book of spells and magic wand.
When I felt comfortable that the coast was clear I made my way back to the exhibits; although I was surrounded by figures it felt very eerie and lonely in those vast corridors. I used my wand as a torch as I made my way to my first and most important steal, Harry Potter, I felt I might need his help in the future, but in order to steal him and my subsequent subjects I had to use my wand and remind myself of the spell to use to minimise their size so they would fit into the small tin I had in my bag. It took me well after midnight to collect all my guests.
Huddled and invisible under my cloak I found a comfy couch in the royalty section and fell asleep until my mobile alarm woke me before the staff arrived at 9.am. Still invisible I placed myself behind the hefty wooden entrance doors until they opened. In the meantime I just prayed that they didn’t hear my heavy breathing. With relief I quickly slipped out into the street and further down the road I found a Public Convenience, I went into the closet and came out minus my cloak now stuffed into my bag. After my long night I suddenly felt very hungry so found a small café nearby and ordered a full English breakfast with coffee.
As I left I heard sirens all around me, had my steal now been discovered. I reminded myself that they couldn’t catch up with me because how could anyone steal life size figures without a van?
In case you’re wondering who I stole and why I’ll tell you. I wanted to have the perfect Dinner Party with celebrated guests of my choice.
Firstly Mrs Beaton and Michel Roux to cook, recipes old and new in order to accommodate my guests.
Now for my guests; Eric Blair (George Orwell) to explain what motivated him to write 1984 and Animal Farm amongst others and Dame P.D. James what instigated The Children Of Men set in 2021. Then the actor Derek Jacobi to hear about his contrasting roles such as I Claudius, his many Shakespearean roles and just recently Last Tango In Paris. I would have liked to steal George Smiley but he is a man of few words so wouldn’t be very inspiring at a dinner party, so I opted for Michael Palin instead. My last guests would be Florence Nightingale to discuss how nursing has changed over the years and then Maria Callas to entertain my husband. But first I would have to bring them all to life with the aid of Harry Potter.
After the dinner party I would again minimize their size, return them to the tin box until I decided to return them to Madame Tussauds.
I saw them in the charity shop window, the final piece to enable me to put my elaborate plan into action.
A Harry Potter set, consisting of a book of spells, a magic wand and a large navy blue cloak. Excitedly I paid the elderly shop assistant and took my purchases home. The next few weeks were spent studying my book of spells, when I felt confident I set out to accomplish my bizarre plan.
I awoke bright and early dressed and wearing my new cloak caught a train to London, then battled on the tube to Baker Street station, I walked along Marylebone Road until I reached my destination; Madame Tussauds.
I bought a ticket and made my way around the exhibits selecting my subjects. Satisfied I put the next stage of my plan into action.
Half an hour before closing time with butterflies in my stomach I found a dark secluded corner, pulling my heavy cloak round me I became invisible. I waited here until the doors closed and all the staff departed; to kill time I ate my cheese and pickle sandwich that I had brought with me in my rucksack along with my book of spells and magic wand.
When I felt comfortable that the coast was clear I made my way back to the exhibits; although I was surrounded by figures it felt very eerie and lonely in those vast corridors. I used my wand as a torch as I made my way to my first and most important steal, Harry Potter, I felt I might need his help in the future, but in order to steal him and my subsequent subjects I had to use my wand and remind myself of the spell to use to minimise their size so they would fit into the small tin I had in my bag. It took me well after midnight to collect all my guests.
Huddled and invisible under my cloak I found a comfy couch in the royalty section and fell asleep until my mobile alarm woke me before the staff arrived at 9.am. Still invisible I placed myself behind the hefty wooden entrance doors until they opened. In the meantime I just prayed that they didn’t hear my heavy breathing. With relief I quickly slipped out into the street and further down the road I found a Public Convenience, I went into the closet and came out minus my cloak now stuffed into my bag. After my long night I suddenly felt very hungry so found a small café nearby and ordered a full English breakfast with coffee.
As I left I heard sirens all around me, had my steal now been discovered. I reminded myself that they couldn’t catch up with me because how could anyone steal life size figures without a van?
In case you’re wondering who I stole and why I’ll tell you. I wanted to have the perfect Dinner Party with celebrated guests of my choice.
Firstly Mrs Beaton and Michel Roux to cook, recipes old and new in order to accommodate my guests.
Now for my guests; Eric Blair (George Orwell) to explain what motivated him to write 1984 and Animal Farm amongst others and Dame P.D. James what instigated The Children Of Men set in 2021. Then the actor Derek Jacobi to hear about his contrasting roles such as I Claudius, his many Shakespearean roles and just recently Last Tango In Paris. I would have liked to steal George Smiley but he is a man of few words so wouldn’t be very inspiring at a dinner party, so I opted for Michael Palin instead. My last guests would be Florence Nightingale to discuss how nursing has changed over the years and then Maria Callas to entertain my husband. But first I would have to bring them all to life with the aid of Harry Potter.
After the dinner party I would again minimize their size, return them to the tin box until I decided to return them to Madame Tussauds.
Copyright Prose by Margaret Yeo© 28/05/20123 All rights reserved
Some Images from the web
Some Images from the web
Assignment
Writing Project – with generic ingredients – examples
Write a poem or story to include, at least one of, each of the following:
§ something round
§ something sharp
§ something very big, tall or long
§ something very small
§ something soft or sweet
§ something sour or hard
§ something smooth or rough
§ some sort of small or large box
§ some sort of vehicle or craft
§ a face
§ someone’s voice or a noise
§ a name
§ an atmosphere or smell
§ description of a time of day or weather
Writing Project – with generic ingredients – examples
Write a poem or story to include, at least one of, each of the following:
§ something round
§ something sharp
§ something very big, tall or long
§ something very small
§ something soft or sweet
§ something sour or hard
§ something smooth or rough
§ some sort of small or large box
§ some sort of vehicle or craft
§ a face
§ someone’s voice or a noise
§ a name
§ an atmosphere or smell
§ description of a time of day or weather
STRANDED
STRANDED
I awoke with a jolt
And a bang.
As I peered outside;
There was only darkness
And heavy rain.
What was happening?
I could feel the water round my ankles
And it wasn't just the rain.
The realisation hit me,
My boat THE ALBATROSS
Was damaged
And quickly sinking.
Without thinking
I jumped overboard.
Into the cold cold river.
I knew the banks
Must be either side
But in which direction?
I tried not to panic
Took a few deep breathes,
And my senses sharpened.
I heard an owl
To my right and
Saw a glimmer of light
To my left.
I decided to gamble
And swim towards the light.
Easier said than done;
The water cold and rough.
As I swam
I smelt the odour
Of old rotting weeds.
At last;
I reached the river bank,
And felt the damp
Soft feel of grass.
Exhausted
I lay there
With minimal energy
I tried to haul myself up
Avoiding the sharp thorns
Of the prickly bush.
It was still raining hard,
As I ventured towards
The soft light.
Tiredness overcame me
I lay down to rest
In the shelter
Of a tall oak tree..
I awoke next morning
The rain had stopped
'twas now sunny and bright
And I had to dry off.
I set on my way
In search
Of man or a beast.
Time passed
As I trudged on.
Whilst crossing a field
I stumbled upon
A battered cardboard box,
I opened it,
To my delight inside,
The remains of someone’s meal.
A chunk of bread
A piece of cheese
And a glossy round apple.
I sat on a log
Consuming my meal
With a spider as my
Only company.
The bread was dry
The apple sour
But did I care?
Suddenly
A gruff voice asked
“Who are you?”
I looked up
With trepidation
Into a pair
Of cold grey eyes.
I awoke with a jolt
And a bang.
As I peered outside;
There was only darkness
And heavy rain.
What was happening?
I could feel the water round my ankles
And it wasn't just the rain.
The realisation hit me,
My boat THE ALBATROSS
Was damaged
And quickly sinking.
Without thinking
I jumped overboard.
Into the cold cold river.
I knew the banks
Must be either side
But in which direction?
I tried not to panic
Took a few deep breathes,
And my senses sharpened.
I heard an owl
To my right and
Saw a glimmer of light
To my left.
I decided to gamble
And swim towards the light.
Easier said than done;
The water cold and rough.
As I swam
I smelt the odour
Of old rotting weeds.
At last;
I reached the river bank,
And felt the damp
Soft feel of grass.
Exhausted
I lay there
With minimal energy
I tried to haul myself up
Avoiding the sharp thorns
Of the prickly bush.
It was still raining hard,
As I ventured towards
The soft light.
Tiredness overcame me
I lay down to rest
In the shelter
Of a tall oak tree..
I awoke next morning
The rain had stopped
'twas now sunny and bright
And I had to dry off.
I set on my way
In search
Of man or a beast.
Time passed
As I trudged on.
Whilst crossing a field
I stumbled upon
A battered cardboard box,
I opened it,
To my delight inside,
The remains of someone’s meal.
A chunk of bread
A piece of cheese
And a glossy round apple.
I sat on a log
Consuming my meal
With a spider as my
Only company.
The bread was dry
The apple sour
But did I care?
Suddenly
A gruff voice asked
“Who are you?”
I looked up
With trepidation
Into a pair
Of cold grey eyes.
Copyright Poem by Margaret Yeo© 28/05/20123 All rights reserved
Images from the web
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Images from the web
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The next assignment, which I appreciate may be too close for some people to feel comfortable with, is to consider death and/or dying, perhaps reflections on a significant death and how it affected you, or thoughts about Death more generally (whether humorous or serious) and of course, by extension, on Life.
Death
DEATH
Death
What is it,
What does it mean
What does it mean to me.
The dictionary states it is
The end of something or
The end of being alive.
I do not fear death.
I only feel for those close to me,
That they may miss me.
I do not want them to be sad
When my time comes.
It comes to us all
Of that we can be certain.
I have been privileged
To be present at
A number of deaths to witness
The soul depart from the body
Sometimes immediate
Sometimes later but
Always all that is left
Is a cold cold shell.
Our body is nothing once
We have breathed our last
And the soul released.
What is next
Who knows
Whatever, I imagine
I will be content.
Copyright Poem and picture by Margaret Yeo© 27/11/2012 All rights reserved
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ASSIGNMENT~~~~~~IN DEFENSE OF ~~~~~~
WRITE A POEM IN DEFENSE OF SOMETHING, PERHAPS JUDGED INDEFENSIBLE OR UNACCEPTABLE BY SOCIETY, OR BY THE CURRENT LEGISLATORS OF MORALITY AND TASTE.
OR SOMETHING WHICH SEEMS TO NEED NO DEFENSE BUT YOU WANT TO MAKE A CASE FOR DEFENDING ANYWAY;
WRITE A POEM IN DEFENSE OF SOMETHING, PERHAPS JUDGED INDEFENSIBLE OR UNACCEPTABLE BY SOCIETY, OR BY THE CURRENT LEGISLATORS OF MORALITY AND TASTE.
OR SOMETHING WHICH SEEMS TO NEED NO DEFENSE BUT YOU WANT TO MAKE A CASE FOR DEFENDING ANYWAY;
In defense of abortion
In Defense of Abortion,
‘To kill or nurture?
A decision to be made
The hardest to ever make
Whatever I do
Will haunt me forever.’
These thoughts are familiar
To many, many women considering abortion.
It is all too easy to take the moral high ground
And say all life is sacred.
Mature Women, young girls
Facing the consequences
Of an unwanted pregnancy.
Was it due to rape, incest,
A drunken one night stand,
Deformity of the foetus,
Danger to the mother,
An accident who knows!
There are many, many reasons
Women opt for termination.
If Abortion was still illegal
Desperate women would still find
Any means they could to
End their pregnancy
Often with disastrous consequences
We should not return to that situation.
However the decision should
Never be taken lightly and should involve
Accurate information and
Impartial counselling.
Abortion should never be considered
An alternative to contraception.
‘To kill or nurture?
A decision to be made
The hardest to ever make
Whatever I do
Will haunt me forever.’
These thoughts are familiar
To many, many women considering abortion.
It is all too easy to take the moral high ground
And say all life is sacred.
Mature Women, young girls
Facing the consequences
Of an unwanted pregnancy.
Was it due to rape, incest,
A drunken one night stand,
Deformity of the foetus,
Danger to the mother,
An accident who knows!
There are many, many reasons
Women opt for termination.
If Abortion was still illegal
Desperate women would still find
Any means they could to
End their pregnancy
Often with disastrous consequences
We should not return to that situation.
However the decision should
Never be taken lightly and should involve
Accurate information and
Impartial counselling.
Abortion should never be considered
An alternative to contraception.
Copyright Poem and picture by Margaret Yeo© 27/11/2012 All rights reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Assignment~~~Music or Responses to a Piece of Music
This task is about your response to a piece of music or music more generally. About trying to find words to express or make sense of the emotive experience of being fired up by and listening to – perhaps a particular song or piece of classical music; having attended a special concert; or the inspiration of a specific performer; and, perhaps, a song or piece of music associated with a particular person, time or event in your life.
Greensleeves
Am I the only one
To cringe and squirm
Whenever
I hear it
What~~?
The tune
Greensleeves.
I first heard it
In Primary School
I hated it then
And I hate it now.
I imagine a
Dainty young woman
Dressed in green
in the garden
Sat under a tree
I admit it is
supposedly a
Beautiful love poem
Allegedly written
By King Henry
the 8th
.
But it does Nothing
For me.
The music no
Doubt melodic
In style romanesco
Composer unknown
I cannot
Appreciate it
I don’t know why
I just want
to scream
And run
Whenever
It’s on.
To cringe and squirm
Whenever
I hear it
What~~?
The tune
Greensleeves.
I first heard it
In Primary School
I hated it then
And I hate it now.
I imagine a
Dainty young woman
Dressed in green
in the garden
Sat under a tree
I admit it is
supposedly a
Beautiful love poem
Allegedly written
By King Henry
the 8th
.
But it does Nothing
For me.
The music no
Doubt melodic
In style romanesco
Composer unknown
I cannot
Appreciate it
I don’t know why
I just want
to scream
And run
Whenever
It’s on.
Poem by Margaret Yeo© 27/11/2012 All rights reserved.
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THIS WEEKS ASSIGNMENT........ CREATE A NEW (IMAGINATIVE) CREATION MYTH AND/OR A RE-WRITE A RE-IMAGINING OF THE GARDEN OF EDEN STORY.
APOLOGIES TO THE CREATION
The King sat on his spectacular throne
High up in the dreary heavens
Wondering what next he could do
He got to his feet and roared and roared
I’m bored, bored, bored.
He paced up and down ,
Kept turning round and around
Now out of breath
Decided to sit and
Recover his wit.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed
The King got hotter and hotter
And crosser and crosser
He lifted his feet and fell from his seat.
In an intolerable rage
He picked up his throne
And threw it to the floor.
the throne forever in pieces.
The King sat on the floor
Amongst the wood and the wool.
As he sat playing with the bits on the floor
The King summoned up
His workbox supreme
With bits and pieces filled to the brim
Scissors, pins ,paper, wool
Whatever was there.
With scissors in hand
He delved in the box.
Out came paper
Which he cut into shapes
circles, semicircles, triangles, rectangles
And other random pieces.
For a bit more fun
Out came the paints
Which he tipped over the edge
A strong wind from above
Came and picked the bits up.
Up down round and around
These materials swirled
Swirled and swirled
Into the void for ever and ever.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A long time later
And feeling much better
The King looked down
With surprise on his face
Saw that in his rage
He had created
A BRAND NEW WORLD
A long time later
And feeling much better
The King looked down
With surprise on his face
Saw that in his rage
He had created
A BRAND NEW WORLD
Poem by Margaret Yeo© 31/10/2012 All rights reserved.
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Assignment DESCRIBE A FILM OR PLAY YOU HAVE SEEN, AND LOVE, (recently or in the past) in as much detail as possible.
THE SHOT................
Was he killed out of love or revenge?
Five men working secretly together
All with Agendas and watching number one
With Control discredited and soon to die
It was down to Smiley to discover the Spy
The Spy who could it be?
Tinker - Percy Alleline, who had control
Tailor - Bill Haydon, a charmer, friend to all
Soldier - Roy Blond a drunk and a bore
Poorman - Toby Estehase a Hungarian fool
Poor Jim Prideaux was sent to find out
Was injured, captured, tortured, failed in his task
Abandoned by the set now a broken man
Deformed and angry, teaching young boys
Jim and Bill an unlikely pair
Were they just pals or was it much more?
Met up at Oxford then on to the Circus.
Jim, strong and athletic who worked in the field
Bill, academic, worked from the office
Pulling the strings.
Tailor Bill - loyal only to one
Karla the Russian big number one,
With Agent Smiley hard on the case
The Circus discredited and Bill is exposed.
Banished to Russia to finish his days
Whilst waiting to go - he was shot through the heart.
Was he killed out of love or revenge?
This story of intrigue, love and deception
A tale televised over a period of time
Kept me mesmerized, absorbed and impressed.
Five men working secretly together
All with Agendas and watching number one
With Control discredited and soon to die
It was down to Smiley to discover the Spy
The Spy who could it be?
Tinker - Percy Alleline, who had control
Tailor - Bill Haydon, a charmer, friend to all
Soldier - Roy Blond a drunk and a bore
Poorman - Toby Estehase a Hungarian fool
Poor Jim Prideaux was sent to find out
Was injured, captured, tortured, failed in his task
Abandoned by the set now a broken man
Deformed and angry, teaching young boys
Jim and Bill an unlikely pair
Were they just pals or was it much more?
Met up at Oxford then on to the Circus.
Jim, strong and athletic who worked in the field
Bill, academic, worked from the office
Pulling the strings.
Tailor Bill - loyal only to one
Karla the Russian big number one,
With Agent Smiley hard on the case
The Circus discredited and Bill is exposed.
Banished to Russia to finish his days
Whilst waiting to go - he was shot through the heart.
Was he killed out of love or revenge?
This story of intrigue, love and deception
A tale televised over a period of time
Kept me mesmerized, absorbed and impressed.
Poem by Margaret Yeo © 08/10/2012 All rights reserved.
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Assignment for the Creative Writers Group. Monday 10th. September 2012
The Box
This is the box
This is the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This is the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This is the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This is the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This is the hand That holds the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. |
This is the arm
Attached to the hand That holds the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This the woman Attached to the hand That holds the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This the man in love with the woman The woman Attached to the hand That holds the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. This is the photo Of the man In love with the woman The woman Attached to the hand That holds the key That opens the lock Attached to the box That holds the photo Inside the locket That lives in the box And this is the box. 
|
Poem by Margaret Yeo © 10/09/2012 All rights reserved.
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This poem was composed on 5th. August 2012, as an assignment for our creative writing group.
I Wonder
I stopped and paused
At the charity shop window.
They were just lying there
So delicate, so pretty.
I knew I just had to have them.
Two pounds fifty was all it needed
For them to be mine.
I left the shop with my treasured purchase
Wrapped in a brown paper bag.
I found a seat in the park and there I took them out
And lovingly fingered them.
Wondering who the owner had been.
When had she worn them?
At a Dance, the Ballet, the Theatre
Or even her Wedding?
What did she wear them with?
Did they match her dress or her shoes?
Was she blonde, was she dark?
Was she young, was she old?
Who was her Partner?
Husband, Friend or Lover?
Was he handsome, was he plain?
All I can do is touch them,
Wear them and wonder.
What were my precious wares?
Did I not say?
They were an exquisite pair of pale blue silk
EVENING GLOVES.
At the charity shop window.
They were just lying there
So delicate, so pretty.
I knew I just had to have them.
Two pounds fifty was all it needed
For them to be mine.
I left the shop with my treasured purchase
Wrapped in a brown paper bag.
I found a seat in the park and there I took them out
And lovingly fingered them.
Wondering who the owner had been.
When had she worn them?
At a Dance, the Ballet, the Theatre
Or even her Wedding?
What did she wear them with?
Did they match her dress or her shoes?
Was she blonde, was she dark?
Was she young, was she old?
Who was her Partner?
Husband, Friend or Lover?
Was he handsome, was he plain?
All I can do is touch them,
Wear them and wonder.
What were my precious wares?
Did I not say?
They were an exquisite pair of pale blue silk
EVENING GLOVES.
Poem by Margaret Yeo © 05/08/2012 All rights reserved.
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