Last stones

These are my last stones, from the wonderful Small Stone Writing project.  The project has been successful for me on a personal level as it was challenging, to write everyday and observe the minutia of a moment, but also utterly do-able for anyone whether they are a writer or not.  I hope over the next month, to compile some links to some of my favorite stones from other writers, but if you can’t wait that long then please go to the A River of Stones site and start exploring for yourself.

24th

The moon is a badly kept secret among clouds.

25th

The wool, so tangled,

my fingers pick

but instead become part.

26th

A waxing then waning

in the heart

leaves it flabby and wrinkled,

like the soft stomach skin

of a weight loss winner.

27th

The radio sings

and wraps me warm

as an old friend should.

28th

Focus and clarity

fade and sharpen quickly,

like the blossom of the sea anemone.

30th

Arm wrapped round

the warm small thing

I love.

31st

The map sits with satin sheen,

preserved bubbles bulge underneath,

but never breaking the surface of that sea.

Penultimate stones

15th – Unfortunately beer induced forgetting means I didn’t write a stone today.

16th – Reflection

Each dot of rain

highlighted by orange.

Behind, an unsubstantial room,

who’s inhabitants are

taller than the high-rises.

17th – Meditation

Wanting some serene

but it keeps on cracking

from hop, skip dancing

and the beat that’s always tapping

with no silence in between.

18th – Inverleith

I heard a mute swan in flight.

The sound – fingers on plastic.

19th

The pressure has expanded the heart

it’s epicenter now around the clavicles

with aftershocks in the lips and tip of the nose.

As I wonder, am I making a  mistake?

20th – Embarrassment

I often wonder how they can,

(Those caverns measureless to man)

never open up their span

and swallow me.

21st – More running

The frosted frozen grass

crunches under my feet

like Ryveta.

22nd – Maudlin

A flower from which

every petal was slowly picked.

More small stones

8th – Exhaustion of a 3 year old

Instead of sitting large

the eyes narrow, until

they are as thin as the sun

before it dips behind the world

9th – Realisation

My mind widens, then saddens

at the gap between

what I should do, and what I want.

10th – Anticipation

A tight jaw and a hard heart-beat.

Sunday evening before

Monday doom.

11th – Hands

The flap of skin between thumb and index

stretches and holds the same creases

as dragon hide.  White, pink and blue shadow,

no iridescence.

12 – Tantrum

A tiny fury of muddy rolling.

Tears, red cheeks and a constant mantra “NO”.

Behind my eyes

weary water wants to rise.

13 – Inside

There is a mess

below the heart

(above the stomach).

Black rubber and wire.

It’s spoor is tears.

14th – Annoyance

An irritation spreads

’till all the nerves

and each muscle fiber tenses

to the repetitive, high-pitched strain,

of an actively angry brain.

A trickle of stones

It’s nice to have a project to start the year with.  As I blogged last week I am starting the year by taking part in the A River of Stones project run by Fiona Robyn.  The project sees bloggers writing a small observation from each day, their stone, and posting it online.  I decided not to post everyday, mainly because I wouldn’t want to annoy my subscribers (bless them), so I am posting in batches – and these are my stones from the first week of January.

 

1st – Vapour Rub

The greasy stick of Vapour Rub

sits on my skin convecting it’s scent.

Reminding me of hot-water bottles, nylon sheets and home.

 

2nd – Beer

At first they ferociously dance

until my tounge becomes their root,

to hail against the roof of my mouth.

 

3rd – Whoops, got rather caught up in a game of Trivial Pursuit and forgot to write.

 

4th – Running

Like the bud of a stump

which was meant to be wing,

the fat glutted border between arse

and thigh flaps and shudders

with every step.  Not keeping time with my heart.

 

5th – Bed.

Skin shrink wraps and slips in to find a pool of heat.

The mattress sinks to hip and shoulder

the duvet sausage rolls me ’till morning.

 

6th – migraine

Pain ricochets between an iron band

round my head and a throb at the eye.

Codine Phosphate blurs.

 

7th – sunrise

Subfusc clouds and the orange burn, only there to frame

Edinburgh’s stand to attention skyline.

 

There are plenty more writers and non-writers who are posting their stones throughout the month, and if you are interested you can access their blogs through A River of Stones, or follow the stones on Twitter with #aros.  If you are interested in writing your own stones, it’s not to late to start, and let me know too.

A River of Stones

This January I am taking part in a project called A River of Stones.  The project brings together writers and non-writers who will express in posy a small observation from their day.  The idea is to concentrate on the process rather than the finished product, essentially it is about the act of observing, and also observing your observation, an intense piece of concentration.

Throughout the month I will be taking part, which means I will be writing a small observation each day – perhaps more than one, but so as not to annoy my dear readers, will only publish them in batches on my blog.  This means for a month you can ask me for poetry, but all I shall give you is stones.