Faulted Outlier

[5th column]

I’m a member of the hard of understanding sect so it should come as no surprise that despite working my arse off I’m struggling for the moment of recognition. That said, I love the poem. Really. Occasionally the writing, and the opportunity to think about the poem, are enough.

[GreaterMandalaofUselessness]

Woop, woop! The geologist's wife is back! I'm wondering if this is how they meet. I love how the geologists are unwanted. I'm thinking the geologist's wife would have done a lot better with a diviner. This seems to continue the science vs magic/pagan (and English v. Welsh) axis introduced in one of the Sevens poems.

Looking forward to seeing these unfold over the coming month. Have a fab NaPo.

- Matt

[Scrow]

Thank-you both,

Neil, you've arrived half-way through an invitation to enter my tiny world. Thank-you for bearing with this and being kind. I have (it only took me 20 years) eventually found a thing that I want to write about.

Matt, thank-you, and you have reminded me I have some serious irritating to do. There might even be mimes.

Sarah

[Bench]

This is so cool, some of my favourite conversations have been with geologists. Chancers. Your real magic has me hooked.

[kult]

This series sounds like a lot of fun, enjoyed the first poem a lot. Looking forward to more drama with the geologists.

[cookala]

hi Sarah! (and yes, I do remember you!!)
you're off to a great start - not quite sure I'm getting the gist of the rocks being absent but then again, I've been away from reading and writing poetry for maybe 2 yrs, and at my age memory does not come easily! this month will be a crash course in re-learning the many intricacies of writing and reading a poem that right now are eluding me. I'm sure I'll be whipped into shape before months end though.

[Barbara Jean]

It is an interesting idea for a thread. The poem is quite lovely. I bet you can use it as leaping off point for the 30 days. You have the secret lives of the geologists you could play with.

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Nice. The Turkish name is an interesting twist, and the geologist's wife is back.

Lovely words again with malvern, rowan, dowsing. Rowan makes me think of old forests (specifically Fangorn forest, since I first learned of the Rowan from Tolkien).

You have a whole month to explore.

BrianIs AtYou

[Mike M]

Raising the bar. I am challenged and inspired. Your language is so carefully chosen, so dense with meaning. Like, some days I’m just going to fire off a nonsense lyric, but you are really doing it. Writing. Yes.

[Jee Leong]

"where rowan branches/ grow to dowsing rods"—magical transformation effected by the repeated sounds of r, o, w, s, and the downward dip of the vowel from a to o.

[Sorella]

Sarah,
So pleased you continued this exploration of fact and imagination, such a rich mine (!)
Hair as contour lines-- subtle to use that in the title only, to hint at the wife's presence.

So who's mixing languages now! A super start.

Sorella

[5th column]

Thank-you both,

Neil, you've arrived half-way through an invitation to enter my tiny world. Thank-you for bearing with this and being kind. I have (it only took me 20 years) eventually found a thing that I want to write about.

Matt, thank-you, and you have reminded me I have some serious irritating to do. There might even be mimes.

Sarah

Half way! Ah, I see! You should’ve said. I’m looking forward to more...

[PClem]

I am seeing the geologist's wife as diviner, the wet grass, presumably near those rowan trees, as proof of her ability to find water. Of some sort. Enjoyed.

Laurie

[Scrow]

Thank-you so much, lovely people. I am HUGELY PLEASED that Cookala remembers me. Who'd have thought that. If anything I write invokes Tolkien then I'm very happy (I always, in my tiny head, think he was writing about the marches, with Hereford as The Shire and the borders where the elves lived - although he probably wasn't).

Neil, thank-you for your patience. I am hugely time-starved but know it's a huge ask for anyone to read something that's mid-way, exploring the process and ideas as it writes. My clarity sucks.

Laurie - thank-you - yes, yes she is (so pleased you read this in this way)

Jee - if I knew I was doing that it'd be even cleverer! Thank-you for articulating - that way I learn

yay - Sorella noticed the title (you are lovely, lovely) and Mike - I am trying. This April has occurred at both a good and bad moment as I have to work, and work hard and my PhD is all about embodied practice so I need to save it from tanking, but I am trying.

Onwards!

Sarah

[Scrow]

I was often fortunate in interesting some intelligent member of the peasant-class
in my work (Georgina Jackson, The Shropshire word book)


It's 1916. Her father’s dead - Spanish flu.
She tells the geologist stories.
How Gwendol Wrekin ap Shenkin ap Mynyddmawr
Gwendol Wrekin, son of Shenkin, grandson of Big Mountain
walked twenty leagues from the dark and basic
Mynyddoedd Duon towards the silurian strata;
the flat plains. To dam the river Severn.
To flood the bastard English.

She points to the earth scraped
from Wrekin’s boots. High Arcall, Ercall Hill -
rock that consists mainly of a rather coarse
crystalline intergrowth of quartz and feldspar.