Ian was the deputy chairman to the deputy chairman, Rob and Nik both being absent, and started the readings with a poem about the mother of the bride being mortified because someone else had the same hat on as she had, although she had been told by the shop where she bought it that all their hats were unique. He also read a poem about this week’s subject ‘Santa didn’t come’. It was a sad poem about a little boy wishing for his daddy to come back, who had been killed in Afghanistan.
Jenny read out a poem called BARSTOOL BABE, which is here below:
BARSTOOL BABE
Sunbed brown
Diet thin
Platformed feet
Wrinkled skin
Too-tight jeans
Hair bleach dried
Lipstick bright
Tattooed backside
Fag-stained fingers
See-through top
Eyes glazed over
Fit to drop
Every night
On barstool sits
Belly pierced
Silicone tits
By Jenny Kearney
Glyn read out a poem that he had tightened up with the aid of Chris. It was entitled ‘TIME’. ‘I wonder where those seconds went.’ It showed Glyn’s romantic side. Yes he has got one.
He also read a poem written by his son Dylan, who was named after the famous Welshman Dylan Thomas, Glyn’s favourite author. ‘Of course I love you’ it began and ended ‘Shut up while the football’s on and fetch another beer’. A son after Glyn’s heart.
Heather’s story was called ‘Somebody to Love’ and concerned the narrator’s love for a person glimpsed in the street. The writer finds out where he lives but fears she will lose what she has not yet had if she approaches him. The story highlighted the blurring of love and obsession. The group thought it was an intense and brilliant story and very well written. The general impression was that the writer was a stalker.
Mary 1’s poem was called ‘All at Sea’. It was about a list of things to do before she reached 40. We all looked askance at this; not wanting to point out that she maybe was a bit late in the day for that ambition. Glyn asked if the poem was written on parchment. That was putting it a bit strong! Her number 1 thing to do was go on a cruise where she would have a ball.
Jane’s contribution was a poem written after watching a TV programme about the conditions that dementia sufferers live under. ‘Hooray for Geoffrey Robinson.’ He had conducted an investigation into the homes and it was sad beyond belief.
It’s being so cheerful that keeps us going!
There was nobody else to read - we all scrabbled in our bags for old stories to read at this juncture, but couldn’t find any - so we had hot pen in the second half. We looked at the picture on the front of the Coastal Press, which pictured a little girl and a small tree circled with stones. Christina wrote about a dog that had died and was buried under the tree, Heinke wrote about the tree being a little tree of hope, Heather wrote about the forest being indifferent, a monstrous regiment. Brenda’s story was about a mother looking for her little girl who was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t have time to finish it but the exercise had motivated her to finish the story for another time.
Mary 2’s contribution was about planting a sapling which would grow into a tree. Mary 3’s story was going to be about a little girl adopted by her sister and when the family secret was revealed no one would believe it. She will finish the story another time.
Kelle said the little girl reminded her of her foster children; two girls aged 6 and 9. The little girls’ mum put them into care and never came back for them.
Another excellent meeting.
Cynthia
Sorry I missed such a good meeting! The Monstrous Regiment phrase stems from John Knox referring to women. It is the title of a number of fiction books, including A Mycroft Holmes adventure by Glen Petrie. I hope to be at the next meeting...
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