Only a few contributions to this Stirred’s writing task, but they are pretty amazing quality! Exciting contributions from Liverpool poets, Rebecca Brookfield and Anna Machell, who also came to the workshop run by Anna Percy.
Here are the results with the writing task:
Starting with this line, (borrowed from Richard Jones) write a new spoon orientated (or not), poem.
With a spoon, I can dig a tunnel to freedom, spoonful by spoonful of dirt
For the soup, handful by handful of breadcrumbs for the rest to follow, squashed in
palm, make mudcakes, the chewed seeds of ancient gatherers packed into tins for
baking, the rushing ore of an age beaten into shape for pie crusts, for slicing and
scooping, slurping soil soup, sucking it up by the roots.
Into my pocket and down my trouser leg.
Little crumbley heaps that I cannot put in a mixing bowl with water
And stir and stir and stirr…
Until mud quickens and I spoon it out into paper cases
To feed to my family, they’d swallow the whole lot
Like honey cakes.
I can even use the spoon to stir the
dirt into a cup of hot water then give to
my housemate if I run out of coffee.
With a spoon I can shovel copious amounts of
That beautiful sparkly white stuff into
My coffee, that certainly is not liquid mud.
3 spoonfuls please, hold the dirt.
First I would like to deserve the punishment
Let me find a crime to commit, the kind that is low and dark and hurts.
Let me have a long trial and one phonecall.
(I will half-waste it on you. We must plan for the spoon.)
Let me have a prison cell and a tiered cake
The spoon between the layers will be frosting covered.
I’ll eat the cake you baked me first (spoonful by spoonful)
It might taste like the freedom you always wanted for me
It is sweet, the escape, I mean, when I run, footstep by footstep