Inspirations #5 What’s this? He’s not even a poet! He’s the worst example of style over substance, of dumbed down culture, complex issues boiled down to a photogenic one liner. Just look at his Walled Off Hotel, in Bethlehem. OK, yes, this is a blog with caveats, but I am a big admirer of his… Continue reading Banksy
Learning to Write #6 For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to write haiku. This was prompted by a friend and there was a particular reason that she asked for haiku, but when we were discussing this she also suggested to me that a little discipline would be quite helpful for a poet trying to figure… Continue reading Haiku
Learning to Write #5 My reflection on the #Movement, on Brexit, on Trump, on how dangerous it is to demonise sections of society. Poets have the opportunity to step up in this fight, to remind people to think, to care, to accept others and celebrate the differences. It’s 2017, not 1984.
Learning to Read #6 First impressions, when the book opens for you, are that this is a short line poet; lines of two or three or four single syllable words, few capitals, variable punctuation, elastic sentence structure. It’s not always true; “weeping” and “spoon”, for example, broaden into more substantial couplet poems, and the title poem… Continue reading catalogue of unabashed gratitude – ross gay
Learning to Read #5 You know how it is, you send a couple of poems off to a competition and you set your expectations with a bit of modesty and realism but also with some optimism too – mid table, maybe? Perhaps? Just possibly you’ve found the magic touch this time, somehow, a minor place or a commended??… Continue reading Café Writers Prize 2016
Inspirations #4 The headline for me here is this – I listen to dls vs sp, and it inspires me to write. It’s a trigger for me. They don’t inspire me in a “well, they look pretty ordinary, so if they can, I can” kind of way; it’s more that their words are the first domino… Continue reading Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip
Learning to Write #4 I worked night shifts for a while, in a factory that made sticky tape. That’s a story in itself. The factory was in a small patch of green in an area that was nudging into rough, and it was all very noisy until we stopped for break. Suddenly, it was calm and surreal, almost spiritual. And there… Continue reading Eccleshill