Several years ago I wrote my first poem sitting on a bench listening to the wind travelling through the trees in the Botanical Gardens, Bath
The roar
I hear them wake
And bellow at each other
What could this be?
This throaty tumult
I hear and picture
In my minds eye
Blasting through green corpus?
Is this the violent passion of Nature?
Again it comes
Havoc stirs
And I hear the tidal breakers
Of the sea
Crash amongst
Beam limb and
Woody literature
The unfettered stomach roar of Nature
Is what woke me up
Rude, fertile, summoning
A catalyst those bull horns
Gore deep into
The moments peace
As anarchy
And panic are seeded
And the trees are not quiet
Friday 23 December 2011
Sunday 30 October 2011
Listen
I wrote this yesterday, and i think it resonates well with a certain spirit which is moving groups of humanity today to ask the questions, to bring to awareness, to act on world issues. But one of the the highest priorities here is: Did You listen? since it is in the interest of the whole planet, man, animals, plants, the whole doodle, that somebody has an ear to the political/social/ecological stirrings going on in the belly of the World.
I think it is of high importance that we all make a serious effort to listen to each other in the big picture of society and economics, as well as listening to the living Earth. The animals and plants which all equally suffer as a result of us, the human race, of failing to care for them better, or indeed failing to include them better as living, sentient beings worthy of voice in our current civillization mind-view. The very reality of the plight of the natural world, is a mirror of our own inner soul plight of man in the capitalist, consumer-model, banker-run society. The occupations happening globally in major cities as i write these words, are a valiant advance for the people (the 99%) on the Giants (you know who they are) who walk over us (and sometimes, on us) our needs apparently deaf and unreachable to their ears up there....and is it not time the Giants realised they are not Giants but the same size as us?
Did you listen?
as the oceans rose in anger,
as the forests said no more we are gone,
shade, fruit, shelter? The light on our leaves?
we are gone,
as the animals fled to a last corner, whining, scared,
hoping their story might be heard.
Did you listen?
A groan as the giants,
glutted on into the night,
tearing the soil up,
the mountains ruptured,
ripping away,
anything living,
to ensure their lives,
and their riches,
never end
Did you listen?
A monstrous howling,
came from the cities around the world,
it was the people,
who lived in their tiny houses,
who realised they were,
fed to be kept asleep
from the nightmare
the giants were making
of the World
No more could they stand for this,
and like the hiss of a rising geyser,
the people went
to take the greedy-guts giants
to justice.
Did they listen?
Robin Collins 'Roaring Poet' October 2011
I think it is of high importance that we all make a serious effort to listen to each other in the big picture of society and economics, as well as listening to the living Earth. The animals and plants which all equally suffer as a result of us, the human race, of failing to care for them better, or indeed failing to include them better as living, sentient beings worthy of voice in our current civillization mind-view. The very reality of the plight of the natural world, is a mirror of our own inner soul plight of man in the capitalist, consumer-model, banker-run society. The occupations happening globally in major cities as i write these words, are a valiant advance for the people (the 99%) on the Giants (you know who they are) who walk over us (and sometimes, on us) our needs apparently deaf and unreachable to their ears up there....and is it not time the Giants realised they are not Giants but the same size as us?
Did you listen?
as the oceans rose in anger,
as the forests said no more we are gone,
shade, fruit, shelter? The light on our leaves?
we are gone,
as the animals fled to a last corner, whining, scared,
hoping their story might be heard.
Did you listen?
A groan as the giants,
glutted on into the night,
tearing the soil up,
the mountains ruptured,
ripping away,
anything living,
to ensure their lives,
and their riches,
never end
Did you listen?
A monstrous howling,
came from the cities around the world,
it was the people,
who lived in their tiny houses,
who realised they were,
fed to be kept asleep
from the nightmare
the giants were making
of the World
No more could they stand for this,
and like the hiss of a rising geyser,
the people went
to take the greedy-guts giants
to justice.
Did they listen?
Robin Collins 'Roaring Poet' October 2011
Welcome to the Roar
Welcome
I write poetry. Prose poetry that is Raw, and Roars.....
I believe foremost in the vast capacity of Raw human creativity, which can express itself through channels of Art. where the human Soul meets the World, where forms, ideas and dreams have the power to manifest in the substance of Earth; perhaps to even make themselves immortal, though Earth gradually reintegrates into her own ancient body everything we make. It is this integration that is at work when we are accessing our creativity to create, it is the timeless striving of the Soul to unify itself with World. Imagine it as like two lovers stuck at opposite ends of a busy shifting city who are struggling to find where each other is; catching buses, running through parks, where are you? Are you near? I can see you!
Sometimes this process of integration can take a long time, several years, a lifetime and sometimes, contrary to the rest, a day. You never know.
Let me describe why I say Prose poetry that Roars.
When i engage in writing (and writing stories, and poems is what i do) i have initiated the process as a response to an emerging subliminal-something-within that i might later call 'Creativity'. In the World my consciousness has been prickled by a something-without: a conversation, a place, a moment of insight, anything...
That this mysterious subliminal-something-within wants to create, or will be the birth of something new in the World (to create, is to bring something that previously did not exist into existence) is not so clear at first.
When you feel a passionate emotion that ripples down to your core, you are stopped where you walk, or think, or talk. It holds you in its coils, which you cannot resist. Or maybe you do resist, and carry on with acting out your daily life, but that powerful-beyond-reason thing has you, even if you do not acknowledge its embrace.
Such passionate emotions (and the passionate may not mean you collapse in a feverent weeping/joyful paroxysm, it could just as easily leave you stunned and silent for a second) we can name 'inspiration': the breath of a spirit has taken a leap down into the pits of your heart. Now lets go on...you may be any kind of Creator; a potter, a weaver, a painter, wood carver, musician etc, etc. So with this inspiration you sit down or stand up, however you are moved to move, perhaps you are exceedingly restless and pace everywhere, muttering.
Now comes to time for decision, shall I go with it? shall I let myself be immersed in this Roar of Inspiration?
Of course you do...
When you begin, when your tool touches down on your medium, Up and out into the spiral of creation, as this Roar of Inspiration takes you on to create, to procreate with you even (if use the picture of inspiration as one of the Ancient Greek muses of the arts perhaps, or indeed any god/goddess of whatever pantheon you desire) an entirely new existence of something that previously was not there. You have expanded on creation, which is ongoing.
All this above, i believe, is encompassed in the single word, Roar.
With a Roar a strong, energetic, usually single-noted, sound emanates from the source, and those who come into range of the Roar experience heightened emotional/mental states, activating the opening of the Third-Eye which is the Eye of the imagination. What we experience in the imagination, is a validity of what we are experiencing in the physical world.
As a poet, i am in the waves of this mighty Roar. Taking me wherever it may soar. Taking you wherever it may soar.
A toast to the spirits who Inspire you today!
A toast to those who dare without a care to ride the Roar!
Welcome.
I write poetry. Prose poetry that is Raw, and Roars.....
I believe foremost in the vast capacity of Raw human creativity, which can express itself through channels of Art. where the human Soul meets the World, where forms, ideas and dreams have the power to manifest in the substance of Earth; perhaps to even make themselves immortal, though Earth gradually reintegrates into her own ancient body everything we make. It is this integration that is at work when we are accessing our creativity to create, it is the timeless striving of the Soul to unify itself with World. Imagine it as like two lovers stuck at opposite ends of a busy shifting city who are struggling to find where each other is; catching buses, running through parks, where are you? Are you near? I can see you!
Sometimes this process of integration can take a long time, several years, a lifetime and sometimes, contrary to the rest, a day. You never know.
Let me describe why I say Prose poetry that Roars.
When i engage in writing (and writing stories, and poems is what i do) i have initiated the process as a response to an emerging subliminal-something-within that i might later call 'Creativity'. In the World my consciousness has been prickled by a something-without: a conversation, a place, a moment of insight, anything...
That this mysterious subliminal-something-within wants to create, or will be the birth of something new in the World (to create, is to bring something that previously did not exist into existence) is not so clear at first.
When you feel a passionate emotion that ripples down to your core, you are stopped where you walk, or think, or talk. It holds you in its coils, which you cannot resist. Or maybe you do resist, and carry on with acting out your daily life, but that powerful-beyond-reason thing has you, even if you do not acknowledge its embrace.
Such passionate emotions (and the passionate may not mean you collapse in a feverent weeping/joyful paroxysm, it could just as easily leave you stunned and silent for a second) we can name 'inspiration': the breath of a spirit has taken a leap down into the pits of your heart. Now lets go on...you may be any kind of Creator; a potter, a weaver, a painter, wood carver, musician etc, etc. So with this inspiration you sit down or stand up, however you are moved to move, perhaps you are exceedingly restless and pace everywhere, muttering.
Now comes to time for decision, shall I go with it? shall I let myself be immersed in this Roar of Inspiration?
Of course you do...
When you begin, when your tool touches down on your medium, Up and out into the spiral of creation, as this Roar of Inspiration takes you on to create, to procreate with you even (if use the picture of inspiration as one of the Ancient Greek muses of the arts perhaps, or indeed any god/goddess of whatever pantheon you desire) an entirely new existence of something that previously was not there. You have expanded on creation, which is ongoing.
All this above, i believe, is encompassed in the single word, Roar.
With a Roar a strong, energetic, usually single-noted, sound emanates from the source, and those who come into range of the Roar experience heightened emotional/mental states, activating the opening of the Third-Eye which is the Eye of the imagination. What we experience in the imagination, is a validity of what we are experiencing in the physical world.
As a poet, i am in the waves of this mighty Roar. Taking me wherever it may soar. Taking you wherever it may soar.
A toast to the spirits who Inspire you today!
A toast to those who dare without a care to ride the Roar!
Welcome.
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