Tag Archives: philosophy

A poem for International Disability Day

Today is International Disability Day and here is a poem I have written today especially for it.

 

The Flower of Disability           by Neil William Holland

 

Sometimes a flower lies waiting there

sometimes fine blooms lie latent there

but there they are and there they bloom.

 

Some flowers take longer in our care

but love and heart can grow them where

they reach for life that they may bloom.

 

How rare these flowers that take a while

who ask so little, just love and care,

who bear such pain behind their smile,

young lives who simply want to share

a chance to grow and bloom.

 

With rainbow smiles of every hue

who just love life like me and you,

embrace them now in all you do

that you may bloom.

 

Respect is all that’s asked of you

support and mere civility,

that all may grow and we may share

the flower of disability.

On Holiday With the Poet Laureate

It’s not every day you get to go on holiday with a Poet Laureate, but I managed it, well, sort of. The Poet Laureate in question is the very amiable Bert Flitcroft, who is the poet laureate for Staffordshire for 2016. It was actually two poetry books he has published that accompanied me to Dubrovnik in Croatia, but by the time I’d finished two weeks with them, I felt like he was indeed there with me.

I met Bert recently at a reading session he did for our writing group. He read some of his work and allowed us, invited us, to make it an informal occasion. Brilliant. The comments and questions flowed and Bert gave us a remarkable insight into how he writes and how he sees contemporary poetry. It was a very rewarding afternoon. Bert with his confident assured readings and ourselves with the audience interaction. What strikes me about Bert’s poems is how accessible they are, anyone can reach into them very easily.

What I always like about poetry, is that poems allow you close to the poet. Poems always seem to have something of the poet entwined within them. This I think is particularly the case with Bert, he invites you to witness a marital moment of disagreement in Sonnet For A Bacon Sandwich and makes me smile broadly at the wry observation in Naked. Fishing is presented in a completely new light in First Contact and in my view he has written the best ever poem about retirement in Finished.

There are loads more, so many easily read poems but still poems that kept calling me back. It’s not the poems speaking, it’s Bert himself, and the words let me plug into his intellect. Believe me it’s worth it. Keepers for sure. Singing Puccini at the kitchen sink.  ISBN 978-1-907741-03-6   and Thought-Apples  ISBN 9780956551870 both by Bert Flitcroft. Go on, treat yourself.

 

A Poetry Recording

It has taken me a while to post this but it relates to my fairy recent (for me) post The Fastest Poems Ever Written and this is a recording I made of Looking At An Arthur Berry Exhibition. The tone of it  is about my response to his paintings, which are very dark colour-wise, and very reflective of life in a raw sense, a bit like Lowry which Arthur’s works were exhibited with.

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Here is the final tone-poem I recorded in response to my tour of his work. You can read more on my earlier post if you wish, The Fastest Poems Ever Written.

 

Currently reading no.2

I like to find time to pursue something akin to ‘Continued Professional Development’ with my interest in poetry. Hence this post, which is perhaps more of a ‘Continued Poetry Development’. The book I’m reading today is The Lost Works of William Carlos Williams by Robert J. Cirasa.(also subtitled as ‘The Volumes of Collected Poetry as Lyrical Sequences’). I’ve got two reasons for this, firstly anything that mentions lyrical and poetry grabs my attention because of my own creative leaning, and secondly, in his autobiography William Carlos Williams said, “The longer I lived in my place, among the details of my life, the more I realised that these isolated observations and experiences needed pulling together to gain profundity.”

There is, I think, poetry even inside that quote, I mean how gorgeous is the inward looking concept of living among the details of one’s life? The very way of thinking in those worded terms seems to negotiate to that ‘other layer’ which all good poetry seems to possess. It says a lot about him I think, especially how he wrote in a small-detail way. Profundity seems to be something I also occasionally try to negotiate almost without realising it. (the concept of trying to be profound seems saturated with ego somehow, oops!) Perhaps my efforts are more like a journey though through my own self awareness. Maybe my own attempts at profundity is a way of sharing myself, I think it is probably, a passing-on of something. It would be nice to think my kids read my ‘profundity’ one day, although I’d probably have to throw in a free holiday to get them to read my poetry.

I digress, what matters is that reading books like this puts me a bit closer to the man, the poet and what he gave out to the world, his “details of my life”, his way of seeing. And that can only help my own growth and love of writing and reading poetry. I’ll give the last word on this post to the man himself, a quote from the book:

“It is a flower through which the wind
combs the whitened grass and a black dog

with yellow legs stands eating from a
garbage barrel. One petal goes eight blocks.

That’s only an extracted few lines of course, but I just love that sentence “One petal goes eight blocks”. It subconsciously connects me to the concept of a journey, and all living things are on a journey and within each journey are many other journeys. I do find even that short sentence lyrical. The word ‘petal’ is the only two syllable word in that sentence and in a creative writing sense, and a musical one too, I seem to focus on that word, it seems to gain strength from itself sitting within the monosyllabic rest.

So, there we are, me and my book, a rare find in a second hand bookshop with a bell that tinkles when you open the door, another lyrical note on my poetry journey. Nine quid well spent I reckon.

Cheers all…Neil

Whales, a Poetry Reading

There is a strange but compelling attraction to Whales for me. I don’t really know why only that it is there and very strong too. It feels like an emotional bond of some sort and I am struck by the way they do not set out to attack people, in spite of much persecution by people. It’s as though they are wiser. Maybe they are the custodians of something. I’m sure the scientist and biologist will give me the cold explanations of their presence, place and purpose, but it will never shake my belief that there is something very special about whales, something intangible. I hope you enjoy this poetry with sound. It is my own poem read by me and the music is my own playing and composition. What I’ve tried to do is impart to the piece something of what I feel. Enjoy and best wishes….Neil I’ve called the poem Thermoclines Thermoclines a poem by Neil William Holland. a.k.a. Soloneili What am I following, this pull call pull of something higher? Rising and bellowing thermoclines mellowing deep subsonic viscous noise, resonating through rib-cages, grasping aortas, whale song. Blues, Minkes, Orcas.

Noah

Hello, this is a poem I wrote and recorded about one of my grandchildren. I hope you enjoy.

Noah

In the hierarchy of sound
I place the ticking
of my late grandmother’s clock
as middle C.
The purring of Sooty
her black cat sits
somewhere below,
Its meow sits considerably higher,
as do all the sounds of Noah,
my grandson
now three months old.

Asleep on the smokey rag rug
the crackling pops and whistles
of the coal fire reassure,
as do the buttons, buckles, and RAF wings
I play with in their cream coloured tin.
I effortlessly slide from my childhood
to Noah’s as he lies listening.

I have no ticking clock for him.
Only my low grandfather voice,
and my burning desire to ensure
his life is full of music and me,
desperate to be his middle C,
wishing for him,
a world of beautiful polyphony.

poem by Neil William Holland. a.k.a. Soloneili

I Fish For Seatrout In The Dead Of Night

Another poem I wrote based on personal knowledge. Standing on one’s own in a river to fish, then letting the darkness fall through its various stages until its final and complete blackness envelopes you, is a sobering and thoughtful experience. It is the way to catch the ultra shy seatrout, but one’s world certainly transforms with even the slightest rustle or splash. Whilst waiting for the fish the world is transformed and blurs between reality and reflection. I hope you enjoy this audio poem. Best wishes. Neil

Words for Peace

Words For Peace

If I could leave my words for those I love, to understand,
lay me down where grass is sweet and flowers grow,
that I may share the life our meadows know
and spend eternal peace in my beloved land.

In silent prayer I wish for those a friend to me,
may peace be in your life and quiet waters flow,
to nurture heart in those you love and know
and all conjoin in high serenity.

Alone mere words cannot repay the debts we owe,
nor wishes cleanse the souls we’ve grown to be,
but surely love uplifts when all is low
and binds us in one true affinity.

If all could leave their words for those they love to understand
and lay their thoughts in meadows sweet where flowers grow,
we’d nourish all we hope our children come to know
and place true peace in our beloved lands.
…………………………….

The above is a poem by me, Neil William Holland…a.k.a. Soloneili

In Search Of Nirvana (meditation)

In Search of Nirvana (meditation) by Soloneili

Click on post heading to hear the track.
This is recorded through a THX certified microphone using bespoke layered sound design played on an Oxygen2 61 key midi keyboard combined with a Tibetan singing bowl that took me a few years to find (finding the right singing bowl for you as an individual is not an easy thing if you believe in harmonics in respect of people as well as objects). The track is sufficiently long (just over ten minutes) to enable relaxation and subtleties are obtained through rhythms and weight via the velocity sensitive keyboard when playing. This is the first of a series aimed at meditative qualities that help in the search for the state of Nirvana, or simply to chill out with, depending on your own perspective.Best wishes always. Neil

Sound sculpture

Why do I call this a sound sculpture? Well, it has to do with the fact that I realised as I was creating it and making adjustments by code manipulation that it was in fact just like sculpting a sound sample or using a pallette knife on an oil painting. The end result is a representational study where the sound-imagery depicts something for each listener. I was going to use this as a sound bed for a poem but I have decided to leave it to stand as it is. In terms of my concept I was going to write a poem about someone following their brother into the factory and that sets the tone for their life. They like christmas and their one holiday per year and an otherwise mundane existence is punctuated by occasional rare events. This probably does represent the lives of some people and I have certainly known people who fit into this like a glove and they were wonderful working class folk who I still hold very dear in my memory. Maybe the sound-sculpture will not be like that for you, but maybe the sounds are so strong that it will. Matters not really, but I just wanted to share my creativity with others and that is reward enough for me. Best wishes. Neil