The next proper post is in the works, but as I’ve so far failed to clamber over a pretty spectacular writers’ block, here’s a less typical offering to get you through the traumatic interim. As I’m approaching the end of my stay, most of my commitments have ceased, causing me to sink into a mire of ennui, something that has apparently not been helped by my propensity to sleep for over 12 hours a night when left to my own devices. I have, however, been keeping up my NaPoWriMo almost-daily poems, so (as yesterday was the last day) I thought I’d put a few more of those up on here to prove that I haven’t been completely idle.
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had all of my exams (which I will refrain from commenting on until I get my results) and several visitors with whom I’ve been trying to get round the remaining Languedoc-Roussillon sights. This has been met with mixed success given the nature of French public transport, which is such that leaving major towns is a near-impossibility, but we made it to the Pont du Gard, a spectacular Roman aqueduct which I would fully recomment trekking out to. We also went round the Roman amphitheatre in Nimes and discovered, quite predictably, that audioguides really are pointless and annoying. The whole trip was made vastly more entertaining by the fact that we bumped into the same two people (who’d asked me for directions that morning) in every single location and on every single mode of transport that we got that day.
So without further ado, here are some poems. It’s a pretty mixed bag; there are lots of experiments, a surprising number about animals, and even one or two deep-and-meaningful ones. As per, they work best if you imagine them read aloud. I have to admit that a lot of them were quick attempts to get something on paper at 11.55pm, but I’d be interested to hear any tips or opinions. Preferably don’t hurt my feelings too much though; the old adage “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t comment on my blog” seems relevant here.
Cat in the window (A true story starring me, Bonnie and a cat)
There’s a cat in the window
Isn’t that kind of cruel?
Yowling a haughty, imperious mewl.
Cradling the carpse – wait, corpse.
Beneath a gentle-scented canopy,
With sentimental dog-rose petals
Dropping ripples all around.
Sunshine lines refract
Across the glossy border
Between sand and sea.
Carnival of the animals
© Rowan Lyster 2014
|Bonus picture of the day: more and more of these bin-faces have been popping up all over the place, and I saw them in Berlin too. I find them slightly unnerving.|