Homework for January 2019

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some of the writers

Angela Locke writes

Homework for our next session on 17 January 2019 is to

Make a list of 10 places that are special to you in the Lake District 

Circle one you would like to visit before our next session 

Go to that place, spend a little quiet time there

Write about it

Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Homework for 5 July 2018

The homework set by Angela for the session on 5 July was to consider carefully this speech from The Tempest

‘Our revels now are ended’

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yes, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

William Shakespeare
From The Tempest Act 4 Scene 1

See what really stands out for you from this speech. It may be one line or the moods of the whole. Make of it what you will and write a poem (max. 50 lines) or prose (max. 300 words) based on your reaction. Bring it along to share at the session on 5 July.

 

I AM

planet-2666129_1280.jpg

Unsure of where my margins lie
I
Know only that
In my fishy depths strange energies
Pulse,
Tossing me hither and thither.
And yet,
The storms that make me heave and writhe
Pull my tears into the sky
To fall as dew on a rose’s bloom
Or rain on forest canopies.
I, passive,
Am filled by others’ lives
Their stories flowing into my depths
Until
Tranquil now, a mirror, I
Reflect the stars and sun and moon
And, yes, your face.
I cast myself in arching bows
A dove of peace upon my breast.

Kath Sunderland

 

Cave painting

Rembrandt_The_Artist_in_his_studio
Rembrandt | The Artist in His Studio

Cave painter

in his studio
his eyes
are black

self portrait
requires
hand on

balanced
brush or
dust for

blowing
and an
inward

turned eye
the depth
of parietal

art’s mirror
to espy and
translate

to white
canvas
or cave

wall to
speak of
community’s

necessity
without
which there

is no
life or
growing

neurological
pathfinding
at all

in his studio
Rembrandt’s
eyes are

black as
also the
cave painter’s

forty
thousand
long years

before his
yet no
insight

do they
then or
today

our own
inward
eyes seeing

to the
back of
our soul’s

deep caves
ever
lack

Simon Marsh

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Cave painting

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cave painting | homework for 10 may

I don’t know why I do this,
But something inside me needs to be expressed.
I don’t talk much.
I just feel, and see, and hear, and touch and smell.
So I make marks on the wall.
Marks that look like the things around me,
And express the things I feel inside.
Marks made from the juice of the berries I crushed,
Mixed with my blood.
I place my hand against the cold dry wall.
I fill my mouth with the warm, bitter tasting fluid,
And spit it at the back of my hand,
Until my hand and the wall are coated deep red.
Then I take my hand away,
And reveal the print of where it was.
This is me.
This is my mark.
And I was here, do you see?
I was here.
I was here.

Kevin Turpin

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