In celebration of Words North, the region’s first writing festival hosted by Peace Liard Regional Arts Council, here are a selection of poems from creative writers who you can find at the festival this weekend - either onstage or in the audience.
Water. Women & Water by Helen Knott
In the bath
I am cognizant of the fact
I am s u r r o u n d e d by w a t e r
I pray to the waters
I sing to the waters
I weep for the waters
I talk to the rivers, lakes and creeks that I know and that know me
I wish them well
I pray for their continuation
I give thanks for their creation
ask them to show me how to be
I often wonder if I am alone in this act
I like to imagine
Women e v e r y w h e r e in their homes
just maybe we stand a chance
Rain Go Away by Robin Gibson
Rain is great when it’s ninety above. Refreshing.
Excuse me Mother Nature, if I might appear to be bold.
Back off on the raindrops a bit? They get in my shoes and
puddles deep enough to swim.
The gutters rage torrents and a cold catches me.
My eyes are watering, nose running to who knows where.
When I was younger it was great fun to splash,
now I’m old and I just get cold.
Thunder at night keeps me awake, I know.
God’s bowling is nothing but a great fable.
At least it isn’t forty below and rain drops are not snow.
How about it stop? Weatherman says scattered showers.
How about put some blue on your brush and other colours.
Now how about a rainbow?
Sell Me As Smitten by Rob Brown
Saw your name on a city sidewalk
starting w/ a dictionary definition written
right there beside it, while I was down
on island life; hadn’t seen you in awhile;
makes me send a forgotten message or two.
Inner harbour crowds do sell it short
need to catch her alone w/ a better tone
spend days together, take in city sights.
Someone here it in street art - terrifying now
not to bottle up this and sell it as Smitten;
shoot a pic now so I don’t go drinking
with any different kinda dough-eye soul.
Should walk, talk, and look for the balance
in the now instead of a past we never had.
New faces borrowed on dwindling time,
already shown taken flights flown still
playing with house money doesn’t seem
that altogether that clever; when you
have emotion, rainy weather all the
sad projects tend to write themselves.
Suppose we get lost in each other
remembering the romance of small towns
neither of us are from, a past we know
enough to forget but waking too late
only to find another unexpected tomorrow.
For more information, see https://www.peaceliardarts.org/words-north