The Guest - Polly Robinson

So everyone the first edition of “The Guest” involves last weeks “Poetry Challenge” winner  Polly Robinson !
Her work is brilliant and after getting voted last weeks winner in a very tough “Poetry Challenge” I thought to myself she deserved to be the first person that I showcased!
She has done some brilliant pieces such as “Solo Connection” “Death Beckons” and “Beans For Tea” so all check out her work here’s the link to her blog  you will not be disappointed! – -> http://journalread.wordpress.com/

So below is some questions that I asked Polly and the answers that she gave, also she has not just given us one poem but two, so all enjoy!

So tell people who may not have came across you before a little bit about yourself? 
Hi, I’m Polly, born in Worcester UK and brought up in Malvern in Worcestershire where the famous Malvern Hills glower over the vale of Evesham.

How did you get into writing poetry?
How did I get into writing poetry?  Well, I can’t ever remember not being into writing poetry.  I guess things come to mind in snippets and I write them down – it’s fascinating trying to work out where ideas come from, methinks … sometimes I wake in the morning with a poem that’s just dying to be written.  I find that first ideas are often the best and just cannot write to order, though perversely give me a theme and I can usually pull something together.  My blog came into being only about six months ago and I’ve met such great folk here.  It was fab to win your poetry challenge, Corey, thanks for organising it for us, and this week I’ll be voting for my fave.

Has your writing style changed since you started writing?
I’m not keen on being pigeon-holed into a particular style of writing as, though we develop and our style is said to change … hmmm, not sure about that.  Poetry I wrote years ago at creative writing classes still benefits from a prune now and again, so I guess, if anything my style has become more ‘spare’ with the passing of years.  I do like to write about the darker side of life, I am drawn to horror – they say it’s an escape – yet I often write about relationships, a constant source of fascination.  I believe that readers bring their own experience and perception to the poem and that their interpretation will be as individual as they are.

Have you got a fellow blogger you would like to recommend?
A blogger that I would recommend is Holly Magill, she’s sharp, acute, memorable, see: http://hollyannegetspoetic.wordpress.com/

What was the inspiration behind the following poem?
The inspiration behind the following poem He Drinks Blood was the 42 open mic session dedicated to Nosferatu at our local gothic / horror / sci-fi / fantasy writers’ group.  It is probably my current favourite and can be found with an audio recording on my blog.

He Drinks Blood by Polly Robinson

You will know him by his powers,
His inhuman speed,
His sinister silence,
The way he can fly at the flick of an eyelid;
By his ability to conceal himself in the shadows,
His talon-like claws,
Very sharp,
Made for tearing flesh.

Just know that he has to drink blood.
He has to drink blood,
Or age fast,
Falling to dust if no blood is found.
But then, you will know him by …
He cannot tolerate garlic,
Can’t abide sunlight or crosses
And to him, water is loathsome, it dilutes his power.

He drinks blood;
Coppery-tasting human blood,
Rich, carmine human blood,
It is mine he seeks now.

I sense him getting closer,
Secreted in the darkest shadows,
Concealed by the cloaks in the closet,
Hidden beyond the hat stand in the hallway
Stalking, slowly up the stairs

– Silent –

He waits for me to fall asleep.
I know it,
Yet can stay awake but for
A few minutes more.
It has been 11 days
– 264 hours –
I cannot keep my eyes
Open much longer,
Even though,
I know,
The moment they close,
He will siphon the life
Out of me.
He has tried twice,
Already,
I am so weak.

Cold, cold, icily cold, he draws the blood from my soul.

He drinks blood;
Coppery-tasting human blood,
Rich, carmine human blood,
It is mine he drinks now.

**********

My second poem is in complete contrast, to try to show you what I mean about style.  It’s called Silken-tongued and Charming.

Silken-tongued and Charming by Polly Robinson

Vicious hooded lady

Cobra in a cave.

Pink, moist and tasty,

Licky,

Sticky,

Silken,

Erotic,

Sensuous.

Slave.

Master.

Hope you all enjoyed this, make sure you check out some more of her work and look out for the next edition of  ”The Guest” which will be up on Sunday!