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Good day Red Cabbage Heads,
This is a pre scheduled post, due to a family emergency I’m not really around atm. I will look in when I can,
I’m not sure about prose poetry. I’ve never really written it. I’ve written poetically sounding prose, but never called it a poem. And, to be honest, I’m not sure where the distinction lies.
So I’ve been trying over the last few months. Most have ended up being made into a form I would more normally call a poem. Their structure changed but the meaning left intact. I have a few I’m still working from. This one sprang from me under the conditions told in the poem and I ‘think’ this one works well enough. Of course I didn’t realise that the title is taken from a religious song, not that it made any difference to the film or my watching of it.
My World View is Skewed
A film called ‘I Don’t Feel at Home in the World Anymore’ catches my eye as I scroll through the suggestions on Netflix, most of which wrinkle my nose and I both bemoan and celebrate that Netflix is unable to cope with my eclectic viewing habits. I realise I’m surprised that anyone has ever felt at home enough in this world, to know that they no longer do. My eyebrows raise and I give the TV that half smile that means I might watch this one. Of course I will be very judgmental if the title doesn’t live up to my expectations. For how can anyone ever be at home on this world and how will they show that? It’s going to be difficult if they don’t want the protagonist to seem overly arrogant and conceited. Or to make them seem to be so completely unaware of the world around them until something personally affects them. Another silver hair falls from my head as I watch and type, tangling round my fingers, and I wonder if the world has ever felt at home with me?
(The film was not good.)
And there we are. A prose poem, maybe. That’s all for this week, ta-ra Tx
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This is lovely, Tamsin. Hope all’s well. xxx