I Organise My Things

An advantage of a colder, greyer weekend day in lockdown is that it leaves time for organising things. I mean, I do a lot of organising Monday - Friday, but this is focused on other people's things. Last week, for example, I organised essays by marking them, and organised names on a spreadsheet, and organised some interviews.

On sunny weekend days, I like to organise my plants - I ordered six geraniums last week from Pomona Grocery and spent last Saturday morning blissfully sequencing them on my rooftop garden. At the same time, I noticed that the rescue-hosta is coming into bloom, and that the blue tits seem to have been put off visiting the feeder by the vocal presence of pigeons.

This Saturday, so far, I've been inside, organising things like poems, my website, and, well, poems. It takes longer than you'd think.

It takes hardly any time at all, however, to organise an event on Facebook, which is what I have done for Sunday 13th December 2020, 5-6pm. This is the Sunday closest to Beethoven's 250th birthday ... I think. He was baptised on 17th December 1770, which leads historians to believe he was born on 16th December 1770. Not knowing for sure which day one of the greatest ever artists was born hasn't stopped me organising things for a celebration.

In contrast, I know exactly when my younger son was born. It was 20 years ago last Thursday, at four minutes past 9pm. An hour later, we were on our way to hospital, but that's a longer story.

Here's Jonty, in Beethoven's birthplace: Bonn, July 2018. 

Beethoven and my son dance through my sequence of twenty poems, Great Master / Small Boy. To mark Ludwig's big day, I will be reading the whole, around 45 minutes' worth, either on-line, or maybe, if allowed, in closer proximity. Things being back to new normal by then, the shops will have closed, it will be dark, and you might be wanting to sit still in the warmth, amongst poetry friends, listening to my voice. This is the same voice that sent someone to sleep recently, after I'd organised them into a meeting on Zoom. So if it has to be a virtual event, that will have its particular benefits. We will be amidst that busy, shopping time of year, browsing stores, or the interweb. You will need a doze, or a dose of Beethoven.

It seems a long way off, but organising this thing has given me a sense that's been missing for a while - a sense of a plan, I suppose.



Here's a poem from the sequence, which appeared in a recent edition of Poetry Wales, chosen by Jonathan Edwards:

Before You, 4^th June 2000

I’m in labour in the bath.

I’m a whale,

a ship in full sail

beached on the rounded island of myself,

by thirty-odd years and thirty-nine weeks

and your sheer impetus.

Your fist

(or knee, or elbow)

prods at the surface.

I prod you back.

These are the last hours before I’ll see you,

come to learn your sex, your starting weight,

how your heart will beat in air.

I wallow in this human mystery –

and you already know me inside out.