FOG, eulogy, metaphor…

Dropping in for today’s assignment took almost four hours getting there and back – not quite sure how or why! Meanwhile, the dog, in my presence, helped herself to my pocket diary from my desk and made a complete rearrangement of it.

While I was out briefly my milk turned somehow- looking a bit like stringy breadcrumbs in my cuppa, but not bread, although the milk doesn’t even smell off, but luckily there wasn’t much left, it wasn’t anthrax or I expect I’d know from a couple of sips and I brought some fresh while out so all’s not lost and no point crying over it.

I have to hope it’s not a return to paranoid android phase with someone else using a key to my house and sabotaging my food again, that makes life very uncomfortable. As does ingesting drugs or medicines you’re not expecting to be taking – especially when your medical condition means you’re sensitive and have adverse reactions. And it makes me sound completely mad with hyper-anxiety and stress if I try and tell anyone. The police would come round in about three weeks if I report it, and as I’m known to be ill and as they’re not breaking in, police are pointless.

Having a dog’s no good when the landlord and his lackies are good with the dog. Can’t imagine anyone else having an interest in letting themselves in to my house while I’m out other than the ex and her posse but that’s going a bit far even for them… the landlord has a reputation for bullying and frighteners and the immediate neighbour one side phones him and tells him when I have visitors or if I’m being really quiet and he thinks I’m out a key might try my front door sometimes.

When I forget to barricade the back door before going out someone gets in that way – and as it’s food again and I forgot the block at the back door (enters the kitchen) it’s most likely I’m not being paranoid. There was the landlord’s style of checking the tenant is still present by leaving yet another take-away leaflet in but not through the letterbox – at least they’ve stopped using ones with halal on because they – and stupid rumours about what they’d do for my dog – made me really ill last Autumn.

SO, no point worrying about it, nothing I can do about it other than remember that blockade, and borrow a hairy biker for a house-guest sometime as soon as one’s free… so, what’s that got to do with poetry notes! I do get lost in this fog for sure!

I’m going to struggle with an elegy, being nearly full-English and my dictionary not having an entry for “elegy” so it’ can’t be English poetry, elegiac verse…and I can’t do American English I’ve not learnt or practised enough! I know to drop the u in flavor and color and mention the store not the shop… but I’m still learning. Or trying.

Elegy seems similar in meaning to eulogy but with a sorrowful or melancholic focus. My dictionary says EULOGY is “…in praise or celebration of someone or something”.of course that can be in respect of loss, grief and mourning but it appears another contemporary standard that’s incomplete, lacking…

The Poetry Foundation website doesn’t have in the glossary an entry for EULOGY so I have to assume it’s the same thing BUT a reductionist form dictating mood, meter and form and I think I’ll choose to ignore those suggested parameters for any poetry I might attempt, if any. Partly because I’ll have to try really lots over the weekend to get to grips with meanings of things like a foot, meters, stanza, iambic… that’s my weekend homework, notes on technical terms… in ways i can hopefully remember, because that was the whole point of trying a poetry “course”.

Metaphor – painting an image in place of other words… I can’t do things deliberately a lot of the time – but I’ve not had proper practise in writing fornever and I definitely prefer writing colloquially rather than to formalised structures. But that was alos the point of trying “class” – challenge – and understanding what on earth anyone else working with poetry is talking about because I really don’t have a clue!

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