Coming home one evening through moorland
an owl, alert with night, cuts across your windscreen.
You stop, and for a moment feel flight alive, pure …
Deborah Hobbs experiments with the road poem as a cure for love in Road A686 >>
A brand new multi-authored ‘immersive’ theatre experience opens at The Dukes in Lancaster next week, taking its audience for an oddball promenade performance in the building’s backstage nooks and crannies. Every show will be different and will be shaped and created by the audience.
“Charcoal dense clouds connect themselves to / a blue-black Scotland and the darker distant sea” and Sam Smith connects himself to a struggle with the wind and waves on Maryport prom, in Poetry Day 2012 >>
“Who like you / could be the rock that breaks / the black meniscus of the pond … ” Carlisle poet Annie Foster asks a long and difficult question, on her way back into the world after grieving.
For all your eyes
you won’t look at me.
In this week’s poem, Josephine Dickinson vividly reimagines the peacock with his ” … devil’s voice, / the walk of a thief.”
Congratulations to Polly Atkin from Grasmere, winner of the Mslexia Pamphlet Competition with her pamphlet Shadow Dispatches. The prize is publication by Seren Books in March 2013.
Seren editor and competition judge Amy Wack said: “Her poems were both artfully discursive and beautifully succinct – and many surprised me. I loved the way they skewed from straightforward narrative towards metaphors that were sometimes quite outlandish but always beautifully realised.”
In 1926, Coco Chanel launched her ‘Ford’ dress, the first definitive Little Black Dress (LBD), onto the haute couture scene. Both practical and chic, the LBD has since – allegedly – become a staple in every woman’s wardrobe. Elizabeth Stott’s been blogging about its continuing allure and has been squeezing into one for choir concerts. She makes the case for Little Red Numbers too, with a naughty little poem called ‘The Undoing’ …
not many resting here
made old bones
What is it with poets and country churchyards? Here’s Mick Yates mooching about in Milburn, out on the East Fellside in the Eden Valley. Read his poem, epitaph >>
Here’s an excellent post from Mary Robinson on her Wild About Poetry blog, commemorating the last typewriter to roll off the production line at the Brother factory in Wrexham last week, plus a poem, Transcript, inspired by her mother’s work as a shorthand typist.
After five series, the BBC has axed Merlin (left, looking none too happy about it). Maybe they found out that it was, historically speaking, a load of old cobblers. Maybe they’ve been reading Cumbrian blogger Esmeralda, who sets the record straight and claims him as an early Cumbrian bard.
You know you’re getting on when you start to notice white hairs on the heads of your children … In ‘Stopping at the Sleeper Bridge’, Patricia Pogson treads a well-worn path through a familiar landscape and half a lifetime of memories, in the company of her daughter.
“All I get is a pompous self-important leaf-eater asking Where is your sign for this? Where is your sign for that? Why have you not got a sign saying Fire Extinguisher above the fire extinguisher that’s painted bright red with Fire Extinguisher written in bold white writing on it??”
As an ‘embedded’ war artist, Derek Eland found that some of his subjects got more wound up by the Health & Safety bods than they did by the Taliban … Read more>>
“When my boys were young, it was a story I loved to tell. Throughout their childhood, teen years, and even into their twenties, my children appreciated this tale from my childhood and laughed along with me in all the right places …”
We’re not sure if this piece by Linda Bowes is fiction or memoir, but it’s pretty sticky. Read Marmalade Sandwiches>>