The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 10

10

It's the Sabbath, though that makes no difference,
I have no prayers of real significance.
Anyone in my mind would see dullness,
As no other faces held in focus.

These spaces found, I am of and not of
Within myself, the door never far off.
As a limited place, time slows it's pace,
No rush on the second hand of my face.

It's a bitter drug that keeps my company,
Keeps me awake, so daydreaming's easy.
I wander so I can wonder about
All things considered and some not thought out.

And it won't be long until the other
A different place though named as your brother.

Editing

Not entirely sure what I was writing for the original. It tries too hard to mimic great poets, talking about the greater universe and is also quite narcissistic...even though I don't completely understand all of what I was trying to say!
By toning down the the grandiose thoughts I've managed to concentrate on me not really concentrating. That day I  had no plans and I spent my time just flitting around. I was not in a rush, I could stay or go whenever. The edit I think conveys this in a much more understandable way than the original.

Original

'Tis the Sabbath, this day of non-difference,
Yet a bitter drug I keep company.
I am the centre of my own cosmos, me,
To orbit it nought of no significance.

The beholder of my mind would see dullness,
As much I presume from other faces,
A world after a world, it transfixed is
But less than Luna's spell, 'til found is bliss. 

Such spaces I find, am of and not of,
Flitting through the world, time must slow its pace,
No rush on the second hand of my face,
Meander through the lines before you off.

So it is easy to day dream brother,
O' I wonder, Fratello's my lover?

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 9

9

Today, opaque takes its first meaning,
The morning sun trapped behind dullish cloud,
Wind whipping round our backs, the flowers bowed,
As the wood fire burned, spitting and crackling.

We had wandered to a red wooden shack,
Once a fisherman's cabin; cosy, warm,
Trinkets, curiose, one painted girl mourns.
No end of coffee, refills 5 cents back.

"It's just to make you happy", when asked they say,
Though the walls, all adorned with frames enough,
And the customers with dogs made of fluff,
Or simply respite from an opaque day.

Though there are always times when one must leave,
You can choose the meaning of two to cleave.

The editing

When a place has so much character it's really easy to imagine this cafe again; a place that gave you 5 cents back for every refill you had of their filter coffee.
Normally my sonnets were written when I was alone, maybe the reason this edit is so close to the original is because this time I was with a group of friends - meaning I wasn't left to my own thoughts, which as I have previously written about can be dangerous!
The changes that have been made are generally updating words/phrases (like, 'I decree') and some changes to the rhyming word also seemed wise. My favourite line now " the flowers bowed", such a graceful image and one that is very easy to see in your head when reading.

Original

This day opaque takes its first true meaning,
Stealing the morning sun behind their clouds.
The wind whips round our backs, the dullness shrouds,
Wood smoke surrounds me, the crackling song.

Off to wander to a wooden shack,
Once a fisherman's cabin, cosy, warm,
Trinkets, curiose, a painted girl mourns,
No end of coffee, refills 5 cents back.

When asked they say it's just to make you happy,
My dear your walls adorned with frames enough
And the characters with dogs who're made of fluff,
I could stay here forever I decree.

Alas it is surely time, time to leave,
Sorrow at separation, two to cleave.

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 8

8

The rattle of trams coming from the sea
On cold air, that with exposed skin collides.
My knuckles raw and walking quietly
Alone, searching for warmth where I can hide.

Candles flickering as the door opens,
But unmoving those with blankets on chairs.
Sat with sounds as company I listen,
To friendships in flow, their hopes and their fears.

The sharp music of the tram's timpany,
Now nearer, it pierces through that cold air,
Forcing the warmth to plead for clemency,
Before being blown out by winter's snare.

The whites of Luther are crumbling now
Like my skin, head down with furrowed brow.

The edit

On reading the original back I really didn't like it. By purposefully making the place a person it warps the actual enjoyment I got from being at the café.
I only wished to keep the tram's rattle and the whites of Luther, a reference to the Lutheran cathedral that when you got up close you could see the cracks in the paint.
I also referenced the Köket by name which I decided early on in these edits I didn't want to do. The poem is geared toward the café closing and me finding it particularly homely, this led to a dramatisation of that fleeting relationship.
The candle has stayed as well, though I wanted to change its purpose, from subjective to objective. Generally the whole sonnet has changed from a rather dark and sad poem to something that is more matter of fact and warm - despite the cold being ever present (the norm in Finland!) their are elements of warmth that you can identify with, namely the blankets and the head down, not only with furrowed brow but wrapped up in scarf and hat.

The original

O' Köket, you are a cute little thing,
And yet you are closing yourself to me.
The rattle of trams coming from the sea,
Outside your window where the choirs sing.

Our candle burns so slowly but so warm,
But you are contained and so out you go.
Joining the cold air, the harbinger crow.
No warning shown that your cold heart is torn.

You leave me not alone, but empty sure,
I can't afford to buy more company,
So soon I too shall leave, my own timpany
Sending me on my way, find your own cure.

The whites of Luther are crumbling now
But sweet Köket you shall leave with a bow.

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 6

Well it's been a while. University took over and I have made excuses of being busy ever since, so it is only now that I've given myself the time to sit down with my sonnets again. This is number 6.

6. 

It was my first feeling of being at home,

A familiarity with the room, 

Enough to have felt comfort on my own, 

With the china clinks providing the tune. 

It could have been the weather that took me, 

The global mist fading what was in front. 

Leaving the grey walkers of Esplanadi

As the shaded focus of the pavement. 

So I watched the mono-saturated:

The white faces, black ties and overcoats, 

Unaware of my blue eyes fixated,

Playing the game of cafes, taking notes. 

Before leaving the colour behind too

And joining the ashen catwalk's few.

The original of this is full of awfully forced rhymes and generally when I re-read it felt that it needed wholesale change. 

As I've taken a turn toward observation with my poetry I decided that the act of observation within the sonnet was a nice frame to keep; that's also a reason for pushing it into the past tense, as a reflected observation on me observing. 

It jumped out that colour was really what I wanted to put across here - though I did it in a pathetic fallacy kind of way; the link of the cliched British weather with what I assume was a current mood, though this time I found it difficult to remember the moment - something I haven't struggled with as yet. 

I've copied a technique observed in the past semester in the edit: by leaving colour out, and deliberately noting the black and white shades, it focuses the blue of the watching eyes, which is then only placed to set up the eventual joining to colourless life outside. This is as the cafes were moments of reflection and a time-out from the rush of Erasmus life, it can come across negatively with this description - that it was when away from it that I regained the colour in my eyes but at this moment the weather and amount of work I had becomes synonymous with a dulled eye. 

In the original I say "Watching fashion", this is why I observe the ties and overcoats, simple garments that can influence a look and though black and white the "catwalk" of the edit brings the potential juxtaposition of weathered against new. 

Though I am still unsure of the "china clinks" line it is the only real connotation of why the room is familiar, implying a tea room, whilst also being an over arching comment on separation from Erasmus in Helsinki. 

It's also a point to note that some of the original doesn't even really make sense, hopefully the improvements are substantial. 

Original.

The First time I have felt like I'm at home, 

All because of a familiar clink. 

More like a tearoom, no need for my phone, 

Cakes and pastries awaiting my lips, think

This is the place I was recommended.

I sit here, gazing at those who go past. 

My place at the front should be commended,

Watching fashion, no questions do I ask. 

The grim outside mocks me, return I'm waiting

The low mist pathetic, damp, insipid.

I must leave but not yet, work is berating

Me, I'll watch: but who am I to kid? 

People watching is a game for cafes, 

But the warmth shall turn my day to a haze. 

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 5

5. 

Rosemary and cardamom on my tongue:

Infused in the air and the cold white ice

In my mouth, with undecided thoughts hung

Like my pen, waiting for an inky voice.

Looking for words to fill my empty lips,

As my fingers tread the page for the beat

Matching my heart, and the feet as they skip

Over the distant chatter in the street.

Peter! Time directs its hand to my face;

At least, my friends tell me its time to leave. 

Darkness rising and day ending at pace.

So them to me, and I to my pen cleave.

A napkin with blurred lines held in my hand

The noise of my unheard thoughts, as I stand. 

This poem has been the most difficult to edit so far; I think this is because I am starting to be much more confident and consistent with, I guess, a bastardised form of imagism and so I'm becoming much more aware of devices I'm using. 

Poetically there are some very obvious ones, "hung" being left at the end of the line with no punctuation and "skip/ Over" using the same device and paralleling the image. The volta is probably the strongest I have formed; by taking what originally started the poem and developing it with the imagery of time that I had thrown about the original copy there is a much more emphatic (thanks to the nominalisational exclamative "Peter!") snap into an awareness of the surroundings rather than the self and specifically the mouth. The dual meaning available to the verb "cleave" is very important as I aim to confuse the reader as to who takes either one - to part or to adhere to. 

I am still unsure of the final couplet though it  does tie in with the first two stanzas as well as positioning the persona in a stance to leave; this image I do like as it is as if the persona is leaving the poem as the reader ends this sonnet. It is certainly better than the original ending which at the time obviously shows my inability to understand the word kitsch and also passes a judgement which I don't particularly like. "Alter ego" is a reference to the name of the place we were at ("artelier ego") and is far too removed from the casual reader to make any sense of. 

The "Czech, Polish, Swiss and Dutch my friends, I think/ Wish to leave..." is a fun line and clearly the "I think" begins to question whether the persona fully agrees with the initial statement "my friends" but to why is left unknown. 

In an earlier edit I tried to keep the empty glass line too, especially due to the "empty on my lips" which is an image I have obviously kept for the final edit - but with a much stronger focus, as a persona that is trying to write words that are available to them but not articulated.

Original

Come on, food is your interest Peter!

So here I am in someone's home, loving

The dark, earthy colours. As I'm sat here

We are artists and we are coveting. 

Feet shall tread throughout the day in this place.

Rosemary and cardamom infuse their tastes, 

Harried am I, time staring me in the face

Second hands, arriving filling up plates.

This napkin that I write bleeds out the ink

The glass that I drink empty on my lips

Czech, Polish, Swiss, and Dutch my friends, I think

Wish to leave this place, kind words we go, tips.

Alter ego, taken with a twist, it's

Restaurant day in Helsinki, how kitsch.

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 4

4.

A cafetiere stands on the table. 

Loose leaf tea drifting in ever-greening

Water - as time drifts with it in a lull

For us, sat apart from our surrounding.

Sunk into the two sofas by the window,

Eyes closed but I see from constant voices.

Korvapuusti's cinnamon smell thrown

Across to nostrils, which begin to rejoice.

The air scolded and split like paper torn,

As the beans, ground and tampered compactly

Wait to line my tulip cup. Clasped to warm

Cold hands; steam rising, curling toward me.

And, in that, return to our window seat.

The moment where back to life I retreat.

The Edit

I found this week's edit quite difficult; again on reading back the original I thought it was disjointed and quite specific on either surroundings which couldn't be imagine...but that didn't add anything ("T is flipped here, made in cafetieres" for example) or on themes I'd already looked at (the kinds of people who frequent the cafe). 

  There were however lines that I liked and certainly ideas that I wished to keep - most specifically the sounds of coffee being made, which in the edit are used at the volta to snap back into the reality of life (noted by the cold hands, as before everything is homely and a sense of warmth is attempted). I like this volta largely because it is a definite parallel to the reasons I go to cafes and also works more effectively than the original's attempt at degrading the status of another cafe. This is something I have and will continue in my edits, the omittance of names, as it limits the availability of the poem to a reader; I would like to ensure a liminality to the cafes in these sonnets so that the experiences within them can be shared, rather than confined to the specific space I was in a year ago. Furthermore the constant voices in the second stanza allude to the fullness of the cafe and thus embodies all the people in the original that are omitted in the edit (families, students and lovers). 

  I think, on the whole, I manage to keep the essence of my original poem but create imagery that flows and is accessible - which is where I think the original fails: 'the dark bodies of other nations dear' was clearly something poignant at the time but the inability of my other lines to coalesce around this idea means it is empty of any real meaning. This is also why 'young tyke', something originally associated with the first line 'American retro writing', are both cut from the sonnet as they do not immediately provide that link.

  I am aware that talking of time and it slowing can be quite cliche and to attempt to lessen that I have linked it to the tea leaves, a moment in time that can be fixed upon - something similar to staring into a fire, I guess. 

  There are also reductions in obvious rhyme, something again I will probably continue as I think it can sometimes feel too forced and in some cases has pushed me (at the time) to create a line that doesn't necessarily work. 

  

Original.

American retro writing adorns

Your windows, two, sofas we sit upon.

I can hear your namesake, like paper torn

The sound of constant voices never gone.

T is flipped here, made in cafetiers;

But that is not the smell that pervades here. 

Ground and beaten, scolded, poorly it fairs

The dark bodies of other nations fear.

Beside Roberts' you are beside yourself

Serving better coffee that that top scum.

Bringing in youth let us drink to our health.

Like saunas, steam, lures our bodies to come. 

Families, students and lovers alike

Yet probably treated as the young tyke.

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 3

Due to the long explanation (which I can't always promise won't happen) I've put the sonnet first, so if you want you can ignore the editing process completely!

3.

Sat with a boy of the white fern, with black

Walls rising on all sides, and at our back

The ever present white seat of Luther.

Though it's here that I'll listen to my preacher

That bitter sable drink; harbouring me

From the blank sky and winds of Baltic sea.

And those who enter speak with low murmur

As we sedately relish in fervour.

From the cavernous street echo the screams

Of the graduates parading - in teems

Candy thrown from the hands of skin so fair,

Though demonic shrieks throttle the whiplashed air.

Interrupting the cramped space of inside,

So too the man with which I confide.

This weeks Coffee Sonnet caused a few issues; this is because when I read it through I thought it was terrible, there was no real focus and the imagery seemed to grasping at...well, not even strings.
  There were aspects that I enjoyed, a saving grace if ever there was one, and so this allowed me to concentrate on these parts and manipulate imagery to fit a different purpose.
  One of the main parts of this sonnet was actually that it was the first time I'd gone to a cafe with someone, I generally like to go alone and watch the world go by from a comfy seat. Whereas my friend Jeremy (a New Zealander, of importance later) in the original is introduced in the second stanza I immediately shifted him to the beginning - what this position allowed me to do was also introduce the consistent theme of black and white.
  To pick out the important parts of this theme also allows me to explain a few other choices made: firstly the little cafe we were in was predominantly black and white in design (HKI+), it also sits very close to the Senate Sq. where the Lutheran Cathedral dominates the skyline. The white cathedral also allows me to bring in a religious aspect to the black and white, though my intention is not to create HKI+ as an evil in comparison it is instead related to the warmth of both coffee and the cafe itself.
  We also seemed to pick a good spot for the end of school parade where students got in the back of trucks and were taken through the streets as they threw sweets. The reason hair is noted in the original is that this truck going by was all female and the stereotypical flowing blonde hair of Scandinavia was present - on reading this back I hated it, it is out of place and seems a bit too absorbed and so their character in the sonnet changes to the volta and they straddle both good/white (high up, fair skin etc) and evil/black (demonic shrieks).

  The third stanza is just s*** so I scrapped it.

Original

Cramped inside but with so much space to spare.

Black and white, screams echoing in the street.

Candy thrown by girls with beautiful hair,

The end of school paraded in a fleet. 

Sitting with a kiwi, men of the black

And white. The colour of HKI+.

The bitter sweet scent is taking me back:

Your soft touch, my senses lost to your musk

I cannot guess your usual clientele

But I am likely to frequent you oft'.

I imagine your summer, pray don't tell,

Under a parasol, loving and soft.

Next to politicians you stand astute,

But your modesty is beyond repute.

The Edited Editions: Coffee Sonnet 2

The second installment of my (hopefully) year long venture continues. I particularly struggled with the 3rd stanza and also what the volta would try and show. I think it is nicely summed up in the final couplet but I would right?
I still have issues with the final line of the second stanza though I like the imagery I'm trying to invoke, it may get reworked if a better line comes to pass. I also quite like the original end line in the second stanza but the perspective change from unreliable first to omniscient third required me to delete it. I also omitted the nominalisation of the brands for two reasons; first, so that all corporations can be seen in this and secondly, so as not to inadvertently mention them and therefore promote them subliminally.

Enjoy!

2.

Whore yourself to all and everyone else.

The cravings of a middle class custom, 

With faux leather seats and mass produced art

Across the city - but lacking in heart.

Chain corporations are one and the same,

Purveyors; of our materialism

Our addiction to their corporate crest.

We're never more than ten feet from this pest.

But even those with a discerning eye,

Who can taste the origins of Jamaica

Need the hit of the bitter morning start,

Even if from independence they depart.

Though soon again they realise their regret,

And the change in their pockets means much less. 

Original.

Whore yourself to all and everyone else.

Your prices seek a middle class custom,

Your abode with leather and song compels,

All over the city they'll err and um.

Do I enter at the door of low lights?

Watch out of your window, let life go past?

Let your thick warmth slip down my throat, tonight's

Not going to let me sleep, not so fast. 

A chain corporation you are to me,

Nothing special, you are far from the best.

People call you Robert's, but don't you see?

You're all the same a necessary pest.

Coffee, from Finland's own Starbucks like vein.

We will always need you, part of the grain. 

Coffee Haiku

Unicafe I sit
Good god your coffee's ghastly
But I need the hit.

Freese Inspiration

Today the adventure I took - as noted in the poem below - was to Freese Coffee co. I read about them after a friend posted a link to the owner's blog about the best coffee in Helsinki. I obviously had to try this place out, as my time here is centered around exploring the city through its coffee scene. 

Freese Coffee co. serves some of the best tasting coffee around but not only that, as I had the best company too - in the form of a beautiful barista and a magical manager! Not only did they tell me about their Frespresso but offered me coffee tea (made from the fruit pods which the beans are held in) and told me a bit about themselves. They were full of life and made it one of the best coffee experiences I've had so far and I will, without a doubt, go back to try the brunch which they pride themselves on. 

If you're in Helsinki, whether you're on exchange with me now or you happen to find yourself here - go to Freese Coffee co.; they'll invite you in warmly and make you leave with a smile on your face and in a world that flies by, where moments of solace and interesting company can be so often amiss, I think it is an incredible thing. (You may even get sprayed in the face with water if you're lucky!)

And as promised to those two wonderful woman - how apt on International Women's Day - here is the extract from Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, which inspired some of my Sonnet today and is now one of my favourite passages in literature: 

"When I'm playful I use the meridians of longitude and parallels of latitude for a seine, and drag the Atlantic Ocean for whales! I scratch my head with the lightning and purr myself to sleep with the thunder! When I'm cold, I bile the Gulf of Mexico and bathe in it; when I'm hot I fan myself with an equinoctial storm; when I'm thirsty I reach up and suck a cloud dry like a sponge; when I range the earth hungry, famine follows in my tracks! Whoo-oop! Bow your neck and spread! I put my hand on the sun's face and make it night in the earth; I bite a piece out of the moon and hurry the seasons; I shake myself and crumble the mountain! Contemplate me through leather - don't use the naked eye! I'm the man with a petrified heart and biler-iron bowels! The massacre of isolated communities is the pastime of my idle moments, the destruction of nationalities the serious business of my life! The boundless vastness of the great American desert is my inclosed property, and I bury my dead on my own premises!" Ch. XVI 

Thank you for making today match the expectations the Sun gave it!

ps. The rugby match is Ireland VS Italy.

Concept

Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste.
All of my senses provoked,
And here astounded.

Haiku 2

Coffee at my place.
No view through condensation.
No view anyway.

Helsinki: Part 3

As I haven't written in a while this shall be full of lots of things! Aren't you excited already?

We headed over to Tallinn once more, this time with my tutor group rather than people I've met where I'm staying. We only had a few hours over there and so I didn't head to the Old Town for more than 20 minutes at the end of the day. I stocked up on alcohol once more and also found a coat from Zara for 69€ which is like the £159 one I found in Nottingham...I obviously bought it. It's beautiful.

I've been making a lot of bread over the last week or so, it seems to be appreciated and people are willing tasters when I try something different (bacon and mushroom bread...delicious! Although my dough was a bit heavy as I had been guessing weights). Hopefully I'll acquire a bread tin soon and then I can make some actual loaf looking loaves and experiment a bit more.

As for academia, my Learning Agreement has been signed and sent off so all that is done! Erasmus grant should now be pending. I have also sent my Nottingham Essays back and now only have an essay in lieu of exam to complete, which I shall sit down to sometime this month. I have an exam in a month on Postcolonial literature, currently I have no idea how the exam is structured which is a bit disconcerting but I shall get in touch with the professor and see how much he can divulge. Lecture diaries have started for my Finnish Literature course and we must have an essay abstract by the end of this month so I need to start getting my thinking cap on. I also have to create a presentation with 2 others on a crime novel for next week so reading shall be intensive this week. As for the thinking cap - it has already been stretched by my Grammar module which you would think would come easily to an English student but it is something with which I am not wholly confident. I don't think many people back home would be actually, it's just something we have never truly looked at. Hopefully it will mean my analysis of texts will help and also improve my essay writing but who knows.

Enough of work though! Quite a number of us went out to Espoo and checked out Red Bull's Crashed Ice event, which is like BMX Cross in the Olympics or Snowboarder Cross, where 4 competitors skate down a tight winding track - rather aggressively at times. I wasn't sure what to expect but I felt like it wasn't 'pumped' up enough, especially considering they had their own DJ but we had a good time and got some great photos. And thank goodness as it took us 2 hours to get there...this is very odd however as it only took 25 to get back (not counting the time spent 'queueing', which was more like a mosh pit for Iron Maiden). Oh well.
I have also booked my Lapland trip, where I shall get to see the northern lights (I hope & pray)! I will also be husky sledding and taking part in a survival course...which may well be needed because I haven't really got clothes for the weather we'll be expecting.

A group of us also went to Turku, which was the old capital of Finland before the Russians moved it so it was closer to them than the Swedes. It was a pretty poor day weather wise and although the city was pretty there wasn't as much beauty in the architecture as we've seen other where. I did get to go to the Sibelius museum though. It was a very well put together museum and unfortunately we weren't there on a Wednesday where they put on live performances in their auditorium space. They have a great collection of musical instruments - from the very old to the new - and the specific space for Sibelius was lovingly put together with very well chosen quotes. Maybe more important for the student however was a recipe for quite an alcoholic punch.

The weather today has become negatively British. Dull. Damp. Nondescript temperature. I want it to be -8 and clear blue skies as it has been. Not this horribly warm 1 degree. I shall live in hope although I think the days are now getting longer and warmer...which isn't saying much considering the days were about 5 hours long when I got here.

In other news I have a friend who gets through a toothbrush a week. I thought people may appreciate the oddness of this. Sorry Daniel...but what do you do to your teeth!?

My favourite photo from Turku

Walking across the water to some islands!

Fazer chocolate is delicious and this is the family's coffee shop. Everything in their looks incredible.

Harpsichord you are able to play at the Sibelius Museum

My first, quick, sketch in Finland. The Sleeping Kiwi

Bacon and Mushroom bread...tastes great but you can see the dough is too heavy

This is the petrol station round the corner. That snow is compacted and still an inch thick in places. They just do not grit in this place and if they do it's with gravel so that just gets frozen into all the snow and is useless!