Ben Mellor

Just about slipping this one in before the day’s out because I need to have posted something on the first of this month, as I’ll be attempting to throw up something vaguely poetic every day for the whole of April. This is part of NaPoWriMo, an initiative which has so far attracted around 170 websites to publicly commit to posting a new poem every day for thirty days. It’s a bit of a daunting task, especially considering everything else I have going on this month, but I’m hoping the threat of a daily deadline will be a healthy thing that will push me to write what needs writing. Also I’m doing a stint on Something Every Day for a week in June so I figure this will be good training.

My first post is a bit of a cheat as I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but still it’s not been seen or heard by anyone but the editors of Inc zine who are publishing some of my work this month. I’ve submitted a few short poems, plus they asked me to write something in response to an illustration (below) by Barnie Page who will also feature in the zine. I had two attempts at this as I didn’t like the first one I wrote, but in the spirit of ‘resisting the urge not to leave traces’ I’m including them both and letting you be the judge.

The Girl In The Picture
or
Blue Period – Version 1

Oh, hey!
I didn’t know you’d be here…
How are you?
No, it’s ok, I could’ve rung you too.
Thanks! No, my sister lent me the shirt,
She’s so retro!
The glasses? They’re well old,
Just don’t wear em much anymore,
They’re everywhere now,
Bit old hat.
Mocking the afflicted too,
If you think about it
I mean, what next, right?
Ironic slings?
Post-modern crutches?
Ha…!
Sooo, who are you here with?
Oh.
No, we’ve not met.
She looks…
Really cool.
Yeah I’ll come over in a bit
And say hi.
Bye.

The Girl In The Picture
or
Blue Period – Version 2

She doesn’t know Picasso
But this is her blue period;
A Miles Davis kind of blue,
A cool and sassy
Savvy affectation of experience;

A blue that seeks to find a reason
For her teenage indigo moods
Beyond some vague
Middle class malaise
Inherited from her parents.

Aeons away from needing
Real glasses, she dons
Ironic slings,
Post-modern crutches
As if to say ‘I’m cool,

But I don’t take myself
Too seriously, OK?’
Assembles her look
From a collage of
Past decades’ fashions

Redolent of an age
Uncertain of itself;
Sheltering in anachronistic
Combinations of styles
From more confident times.

But behind those lensless frames,
Outwardly stating carefree chic,
Two blue plaintive eyes
Bespeak a growing realisation
Of what is
And hope for something better.