Poetry in the lengthening days of spring

After my trip to Devon last month and the IsamBards' poetry walk through the centre of Bristol, I might have expected things to quieten down a little, but poetry has continued to throw up plenty of surprises and delights.

The first, two days before our poetry walk, was the Bristol Poetry Institute's annual reading by Denise Riley, which had been postponed from just before Christmas. Having written an essay on Riley's collection, 'Say Something Back', while I was studying for my MA in Creative Writing, I was looking forward to re-encountering those mordant poems, but quite unprepared for the added intensity of hearing the poet read them and I have to say, they floored me to the point where I was a bibbling wreck when it came to have the evening's poetry purchase signed by Riley. Driving back along the Downs in the setting sun, all I wanted to do was get home and write - a common reaction after hearing a truly great poet (which sadly doesn't happen as often in Bristol as it used to.) 

The above-mentioned essay also considered 'Deaf Republic' by Ukrainian poet Ilya Kaminsky, and as luck would have it, Kaminsky gave the Annual Lecture of the Poetry Society on the theme 'Poetry in a Time of Crisis'.  Since it was held in Liverpool, my attendance was only virtual but it was a privilege to hear one of my very favourite poets addressing such an important matter, and also reading some of his poems from 'Deaf Republic'. 

Maybe the lecture will be made available in perpetuity in due course. I hope so, because there was too much to think about in one listening. In the meantime - or if not - here's Kaminsky reading 'We lived happily during the war'. 

Two more excellent poets guest-read at Satellite of Love this month, namely, Emma Purshouse and Steve Pottinger, both of whom manage to be hugely entertaining and thought-provoking, at the same time, which is A Feat, and Silver Street Poetry was our best yet, bidding farewell to the local poetry journal Raceme as it published its final issue. Three of the four editors guest read for us, and the open mic-ers who'd had a poem published in one of its issues all came clutching their contributor's copy to read from. I was honoured to emcee this farewell event, and I'll miss Raceme, but if its demise means the editors have more time to concentrate on their own poems, that will be some consolation.

One of my own poems - 'When an albatross crash-lands in a dream' - found a home at Ink Sweat & Tears this month, and settled in very comfortably, and London Grip published a thoughtful review of 'Learning Finity' by Clare Morris. Thanks to everyone involved with both of these forays into print. 

Finally, I got to read some of my poems at a bijou bookshop that hasn't long opened in Bristol, namely, Heron Books in Clifton arcade, along with Mab Jones, whose latest pamphlet is also published by Indigo Dreams. It was a beautiful late afternoon, full of leaves and sunlight and blossom, and the palpable feeling that summer is nearly here at last. Thanks to my publisher, Ronnie Goodyer, for agitating on my behalf, and proprietor Lizzie for organising it all. 

Poetry and Time-Travel

There are strange time-lags in poetry sometimes. After spending most of last year watching and listening, I've been completely immersed in a different way of writing this spring, as part of my studies at the Manchester Writing School. I'm hoping the resulting sequence of poems will become a pamphlet exploring the patch of edgelands we've been visiting since the first lockdown, and which I've been documenting in this blog. 

Meanwhile, my publishers, Dawn and Ronnie of Indigo Dreams, have sent me the first draft of my fifth collection, Learning Finity, to work on, which means taking a complete break from common, wood and field for a week or two, and revisiting poems almost all of which were written before the pandemic struck.  It's a big shift back to a past that now seems a long time ago. 

For me, writing poems is a particularly intense means of expression. My brain tends to up sticks and shift completely into the world my current poems inhabit, so switching from one project to another does feel like negotiating a rift.  This is ameliorated, however, by the fact that the poems of Learning Finity exist mostly in mythic time, and are themselves well practiced in time travel.  And to encourage me in making this mental leap, my copy of Poetry Salzburg No 37 arrived from Germany today, in which three of my Learning Finity poems find themselves in excellent company. I'm especially pleased that they're alongside work by my comrade in poetry, Chaucer Cameron. 

I've realised that during this time of pandemic and Poetry Zoom, I haven't been posting much about poetry and publications.  They have, however, been getting out and about while we haven't been able to. Here are a few more of the publications they've appeared in. Many thanks to the editors involved. 

Robins, Christmas and Political Poetry

Amongst the Amazon and eBay deliveries, two very welcome packages plopped into our front hall this week, safe from the teeth of Ted, our border collie.

The first was my contributor's copy of Jane Russ' new Robin Book, published by Graffeg Press, which contains some fantastic work by many talented artists and poets, not to mention of deal of interesting information and folklore about that most seasonal of birds.  

I'm especially pleased my poem, Pairings, has itself been paired with a beautiful and amusing stained glass panel by Tamsin Abbott, while a couple of pages away is Dru Marland's much loved Round Robin. 

It is, I think, the epitome of a useful and beautiful present, and I'm looking forward to giving it a closer reading over Christmas.

Also, rather less seasonally but appropriately, given the impending election, the Northerner and I took delivery of our copies of the latest edition of Raceme, which has a distinctly political flavour. 

I'm delighted to have two poems in there, and don't miss Harvey & Brown's article on the dos and don'ts of writing political poetry.

Finally, when you go into that polling booth on Thursday and think of all the children living in poverty in this rich country of ours, do make sure you don't vote for Herod.