The Wednesday Workshop is dedicated to helping poets hone their craft. We find ways to improve drafts of poems, and become better writers together. The group feedback workshop style encourages not just discussion, but revision, and we’ve included some ‘before’ and ‘after’ drafts of some of our talented poets who attend the workshop. Sign up to the OUPS Facebook group to receive updates and come out and see for yourself!
These two are both by Arabella Currie, second year Classicist at Balliol.
BEFORE draft
Boa Sr has died
When the wave came down upon them
Boa Sr climbed. The elders told us the earth
would part. Don’t run away or move.
From her tree she could see it all.
Underneath, dogs and children
and stoves and walls and bicycles
flowed slowly past. Her roots dug deep.
Afterwards, she climbed down
and stood on the damp sand.
She looked at branchless trees and a still sea.
She didn’t say anything.
The dry syllables of the language
which in six years would die with her death
lay on her tongue.
She bit her lip and pushed the words
against the inside of her teeth.
AFTER workshop-draft
Boa Sr
In memory of a survivor of the Tsunami and the last speaker of Bo
When the wave came down upon them
Boa Sr climbed.
The elders told her the earth
would part. Don't move or run away.
The wave broke with a heavy sound.
From her tree she looked
as dogs and children
and stoves and walls and bicycles
flowed slowly past. Her roots clung.
Afterwards, she climbed down
and sat on the damp sand,
arms folded around her knees.
She saw branchless trees and a still sea.
She didn't say a thing.
Six years later, the dry syllables
of her language would die with her death.
Now they lay on her tongue.
She bit her lip and pushed the words
against the inside of her teeth.
BEFORE
The White Ship
This is the rock that sunk the White Ship.
No rock ever sunk such a ship, before or after,
and no ship ever brought so much misery to England.
So many men, sea beaten.
Stretched on the shore like thirsty seal pups,
salt deep in them. Only one left breathing.
A butcher from Rouen. Saved by his warm ramskins
and by the fishermen who saw him twitching,
and saw pale sheep start grazing on his wishbone.
AFTER
Barfleur
This is the rock that sunk the White Ship.
No ship ever brought such misery to England
and no rock ever sunk such a ship,
before or after.
All those men, sea-beaten,
stretched on the shore
like seal pups, salt deep in them.
Only one left breathing. A butcher from Rouen,
saved by the fishermen who saw him twitching -
saw pale sheep begin to graze on his wishbone.
