Here’s a poem I wrote on the eve of spring five years ago. I was heartbroken but hopeful, just out of a long relationship and in a new home. Five years on and I'm a bit bruised and battered after a dreadfully hard eight months. This year the beginning of spring brings only quiet hope…
A Halloween Poem for Writers
The Muse: The CASE for Writer's Block The mists had come, the night was still, the moon was sick and shy, The sun had set but still its blood was dripping on the sky. And at her desk she took her plume and dipped it in her ink, The virgin page was panting in its…
Scar
I never thought I was very good at writing poetry. I still don't. But Anna Jackson has convinced me I should do it anyway. The NZ poet and academic has recently published a wonderful book called Actions and Travels, about the joys of poetry. And the greatest joy, perhaps, is that anyone can write it:…
Spring is Coming
Today I took a photo of the first spring daffodil to bloom in my garden. As I posted it to to Facebook, I started crying. Just over three years ago I moved into my home after a heartbreaking but necessary separation. I was sad, excited (weird, I know), confused, and frightened. I had no idea…
The most usual lie
I wrote this poem some years ago, but I have taken it out today and dusted it off, editing it here and there. I removed a whole verse and changed words and line structure and some punctuation. It feels more authentic now. Sometimes revisiting a piece reminds us how far we have come, and how…
If it’s Left, it’s Right
This poem is about finding our way as we navigate intimacy and vulnerability and new spaces in our lives. I wrote it very quickly, although it had been whispering to me for some time, in my head. Sometimes I sense when a piece needs to be written: I feel an "itch" on my mind and…
The Magic Thread
My last post, A Letter to my Daughter, got me thinking about the connection between parents and their children, and how it never truly breaks, even when tested by conflict or emotional damage or grief or fear or numerous other challenges - and even when either or both parties think it has been irreparably damaged.…
Before You
Once upon a time (actually, ten years ago today) I screamed and swore my way through 24 hours of excruciating labour before a disturbingly cheerful surgeon sliced open my stomach at 3am and pulled out a tiny wailing creature who would prevent me from sleeping/weeing on my own/having any peace/existing as an autonomous adult for…
Patricia Bell, Author 