Exercises from the Energheia Writing Course 2024

Poetry writing workshop. Image and sound, by Nuria de Cos

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Toys

There were toys where they were not supposed to be.

I hadn’t seem it, but I wanted to see.

I imagined them scattered through walls of old houses.

I caught only a blurred picture on a screen.

It was blessed, It was childhood, It was free.

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Focaccia

They are predisposed as a puzzle lost and found of its vertices,

fit in the differences and misfit in mouths,

they yearn to be eaten and their time in my plate is now.

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Crumbs

There they are sitting waiting to be fed to or scatter to the wind or dustbins, they sit in the framing of the windows, someone had made their meal there, to them was an ending, to me are preambles, to anyone cleaning they are just bread crumbles.

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Colours

At first it was dark as I had come too early out of bed, then greyish, then bluish, then red.

When it was born it had no color or name, pure as only life’s creation can be before Man. At last it came the simple truth: the day was born, blue.

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Comets

Falling comets of ages not time perceived in an ancient village lost of rites and capitalist rises, there comes a view of the purest form, lost in thought, kept in feeling, lost in words, found in breathing, it’s still her, at least until the comet passes, it is still here, mother of mater.