Poems in the Toilet and Elsewhere

I've had poems published in collections, anthologies, magazines and journals, broadcast on radio programmes (including BBC Radio 4's Poetry Please), displayed in galleries and concert venues, but in nothing quite as singular as Bob Walton's brainchild, the Poemas en el Banõ installation, which is happening in one of the toilets at El Rincón, where the wonderful monthly poetry night Under the Red Guitar is held.

Athough it's been in situ for a few months now, I went in it to have a look for the first time in February, and found my poem front row centre, behind the toilet rolls and with an honour guard of bleach. 

On this particular evening, the guest poet at Under the Red Guitar was Philip Gross, reading from his latest collection, 'The Shores of Vaikus', which made for a magical evening.

Another lovely venue, also with stained glass, is Riff Corner in Clevedon, where Dominic Fisher was reading in early February. Hopefully now the evenings are getting lighter, I can get out to more poetry readings, like when I travelled all the way to Teignmouth to listen to - and watch - Raymond Antrobus read  at Teignmouth Poetry Festival in March.

A day before my trip to Teignmouth, we'd hosted Wells Fountain Poets at Silver Street Poetry and Open Mic, in a celebration of Sara Butler and her collection of beautiful, clear-eyed poems, 'Waiting for a change'.

Sara's no longer well enough to read her work, so that honour went to her friends in Wells, and those poets Sara knew when she used to come up to Bristol to take part in one of the poetry groups the Leaping Word runs at Bristol Folk House. Here are some of them:

Meanwhile, I had a guest poet slot at Virtual Voices, which is hosted by my former classmate at Manchester Writing School, Cherry Doyle, and Kuli Kohli, on behalf of Offa's Press, which specialises in publishing and supporting poets from the West Midlands, and it was great to spend the evening listening to readings by poets that were new to me. 

Then it was down to Wells to meet up with the Wells Fountain Poets for a reading in the King's Head, which always feels like coming home to me, such is the warmth and friendliness of that group of fine poets. No photos of the actual reading, but I was given a hagstone afterwards, which I hung on my bedroom wall, so as not to get it mixed up with the stones I've found myself, and very well it looks too. 

And then, to round off a very busy week, a reading in Heron Bookshop, in their new, larger premises in Regent Street, Clifton, which again felt welcoming, and a friendly place to read challenging poems. Thanks to Lizzie and Harry for their welcome, and to Emily for the photo. 

A couple of lovely publications, in which my poems have the honour of appearing, have landed on my hall floor too. First, Issue 70 of Indigo Dream's 'The Dawntreader', with almost certainly the most beautiful cover I've ever seen for a poetry journal ... 

... and then, my contributor's copy of 'The Butterfly Book', by Andrew Fusek Peters and Jane Russ, published by Graffeg.

Oh, and the recording of Words and Ears at Bradford Roots, which I blogged about a while back, is available to hear on West Wilts Radio's The Poetry Place, thanks to Dawn Gorman and Peter O'Grady. You can hear it here.

Finally, a reveiw for 'Love the Albatross', written by Hannah Stone and published in 'The Lake' - you can read it here. (Have to say, I'm a little disappointed by the observation concerning my estranged child and how they might not find their truth in the poems, as they are perfectly able to speak their truth themself, and actually, I don't even tell my own story in the collection, but it's a small quibble in an otherwise constructive and positive reading.)

And that's it. My next poetry trip is to Totnes to read in the Barrel House on Wednesday 30th April, with Tom Sastry and Gora Ensemble also on the bill - if you're in the area and can be there, it would be fantastic to see you.

Filling January with poetry

I don't do that well in winter, being encumbered with Seasonal Affective Disorder, so I try to fill it with poetry to compensate for having to take the Christmas lights down. 

This year was my third year of doing Kim Moore and Clare Shaw's January Writing Hours, which offers the discipline of an hour a day responding to poems and prompts. Sadly, I can only ever attend four per week because of fixed work commitments, but even so, after a two-year break from writing poems following the completion of my most recent collection, 'Love the Albatross', I feel I might be getting ready to start writing again, and so it was good to smell the distant whiff of poetry on the air. And it's always wonderful to encounter poets and poems you might not have come across otherwise. 

I also volunteered to read at a few poetry events, largely to make myself do it despite the dark and the longing to hibernate. The first of these was the launch of Di Slaney's new pamphlet, 'January conversations, with dogs', published by Valley Press. Di was looking for poets with poems about dogs to read at the launch, so I sent her a copy of 'The Good Dogs of Chernobyl', which was published in my 2019 collection, 'The Shadow Factory', and was delighted when it, and I, were chosen to take part. And although they were mostly distant, Northern, god-like poets involved, whom I 'know' from social media but have never met, I instantly felt part of a warm poetry community - it was a beautiful launch of a thoughtful, dog-accompanied collection of poems that never tip into sentimentality, skilfully illustrated by poet and artist, Jane Burn. And yes, I bought two copies, one for us and one for dog-owning, poetry-publishing friends, and if you like dogs and poems, you should too. 

                         

Mid-month and I left Bristol for the first time this year to travel to Bradford-on-Avon for the second Poetry@Roots reading at Bradford Roots Music Festival. I read at the first one last year, on the grounds that not wanting to leave my settee to drive along the frankly scary Sally-in-the-Wood in winter's dark was exactly the reason why I should do it, and it was a such a shiny experience, I jumped at the chance to do it all again. 

Organiser and compere Dawn Gorman

This year there were guest readings by Kate Noakes and Christine McFarlane, who was launching her first collection, 'Irish Elk and other Extinctions'. Dawn, who organises every event she puts on so very competently, but without the least hint of bossiness, interviewed Kate and Christine for The Poetry Place on West Wilts Radio, and also Dominic Fisher and me about the forthcoming anthology from the IsamBards, 'Dancing on the Bridge'. You can hear us here, at about 6 minutes and 25 seconds in. 

Taking to the Golden Gudgeon stage

Then, right at the end of the month, two readings within 18 hours of each other, the first a Manchester Metropolitan University Alumni Showcase, at Manchester Poetry Library, which I joined online. 

Compere Kim Moore with a bottle of beer and fellow-reader, Rachel Carney, listening to a collaborative reading on the theme of dementia by Hilary Robinson and Rachel Davies

I always find Teams and Zoom readings slightly terrifying in case a) someone rings the doorbell and the dog goes ape, or b) I suffer a technical disaster and find I can't join the reading, or the internet goes down - none of which has happened yet, though that doesn't stop me worrying. This time, there was even more jeopardy, as we're between kitchens right now, and out of camera shot, I was surrounded by tottering piles of crockery, rusting pots and pans, jars of condiments bought with the most exciting of intentions in 2018 that somehow got pushed to the back of the cupboard and never used, etc, etc. In the end, I took the precaution of shutting poor Cwtch the Collie upstairs, from where she tried to dig her way back down through the ceiling, though this wasn't audible in Manchester. As for the notification which kept popping up, telling me I had a poor network connection, I just ignored it and it was OK. 

Rachel Carney's view from the audience

Since this might have been my last contact with MMU, I'm pleased it went well. I loved studying for my MA, and having the space to write about the difficult subject of estrangement was important to me as I negotiated my experience of it. It was also exhilarating hearing the poetry some of my peers - Rachel Carney, Betty Doyle, Simon Costello, Hilary Robinson and Rachel Davis - have written.

The final reading of the month wasn't at all scary because it was on my home ground, at Silver Street Poetry and Open Mic, of which I'm one of the co-organisers. Knowing everyone there makes for a safe space in which I can be a little more frank about the circumstances behind the 'Love the Albatross' poems than I might be otherwise. And of course, people know me in return, which means I know I won't be judged. 

Action MC moment from Dominic Fisher

It means a lot to me when people who, it turns out, have experience of estrangement come up to me after a reading and tell me how much these poems have touched them. 

Finally, the last poem from 'Love the Albatross' to come home to roost did so in the pages of Indigo Dreams' The Dawntreader. A fine place for it to land. Thanks to Ronnie and Dawn for everything. 

Pushing the Cart (and a Chance to Listen at your Leisure)

When my publisher, Ronnie Goodyer, told me that he and Dawn Bauling had nominated one of my poems from ‘Love the Albatross’ for a Pushcart Prize, I had to look it up. (The prize, that is). I'd seen people celebrating their nominations over the years, but without any idea exactly what it was. I had the impression being nominated was an honour, and largely its own reward, and having looked into it, that seems - realistically - to be the case. (At least, there 's an slim anthology of poems published every year, but thousands of nominations. I’m just very grateful to to have a poem amongst them.)

So. Many thanks to them both, and congratulations to my fellow Indigo Dreams nominees, alongside whom it’s an honour to be listed.

Also, now it's been aired, here's the link to hear Helen Ivory and me guest-poetting for West Wilts Radio's 'The Poetry Place' whenever the fancy takes you. 

Indigo Dreaming on Dartmoor

Time to squeeze in a visit to Dartmoor before the days start drawing in ... 

... and here's Windy Post Cross on the Grimstone and Sortridge Leat, a favourite spot not that far from Cox Tor car park.

Though this isn't our collie, Cwtch, who rarely enters the water willingly.

No, it's Mist of Indigo Dreams Publishing ...

... and here's Ronnie, the poet for the silent. (And border collies.)

And in the distance, Dawn (Ronnie's partner in poetry), the Northerner and me, with Mist and Cwtch.

Staunch little Mist is the leat-lover, straight out of 'The Names of the Hare Border Collie', translated by Seamus Heaney.

'Won't catch me doing that!' says Cwtch, who's far more likely to be found photo-bombing, from the safety of the bank. 

Then, just as it started to rain, we were back at the cars and it was off to the Plume of Feathers in Princetown for some lunch. 

Can I help you with the leftovers?

Much fun was had. This event will be repeated. 

We need to talk about estrangement

 'Love the Albatross' is in the world and I feel all kinds of emotions. 

Its subtitle is Estrangement Stories, estrangement being an increasingly common phenomenon. According to Psychology Today, one in ten people have cut off a parent or child, yet you'd never guess it from the code of silence surrounding it. And it's easy to understand why. The shame and social stigma is such that no one wants to out themselves and risk the often ill-informed judgment of those who have no experience of disowning or being disowned, yet feel qualified to offer an opinion.

I hate talking about it. And yet here I am with a whole collection of poems on the subject. And they're for anyone who's ever stood on this precipice, from whichever side of the Great Divide. Anyone who's ever felt they were the only one in this situation. Anyone who's ever looked at their child or loved family member and thought 'I'm so glad this will never happen to me'. Anyone who's ever loved someone more than they love themselves. 

'Love the Albatross’ is a meditation on inter-generational relationships, estrangement and silence, in which people communicate through messages in bottles, birds and dreams, fragmented memories assume mythological status, and the stories we tell ourselves to justify our actions escape their labyrinths and run wild.

In ‘Love the Albatross’ … estrangement, transformation and albatross are expertly woven together, with Harvey bearing witness to the nuance, complexity, and devastation inherent in this most ruinous of losses.  I found these poems authentic, liberating and transformative … Nothing is more evocative than the feeling that a writer has gone back in time with the reader, as witness and companion.

 Chaucer Cameron

Publication date is 30th August, and the collection can now be pre-ordered from the Indigo Dreams website. Signed copies are available from me - comment on this blog or contact me via social media or admin@theleapingword.com. 

Thank you. 

Lighting Touchpapers

Exactly a month ago, I was privileged to attend a beautiful evening of poetry in the King's Head, Wells. 

We'd gathered to celebrate the launch of Sara Butler's collection, 'Waiting for a Change'. The evening was hosted by Ama Bolton and Morag Kiziewicz, two members of the highly respected Wells Fountain Poets. Sara was a member of the group too, until ill health prevented her from continuing. It was Ama and Mo who collected Sara's poems and arranged them into this book.

Ama reading

Mo reading

I have a personal stake in this collection, because Sara was also a valued member of one of The Leaping Word’s poetry groups, and I’ve longed to hold a book of her poems in my hands for years. Now, thanks to Ama and Mo, that dream has come true. This book really is an act of love.

‘Waiting for a Change’ is available from bookshops or – if you must – Amazon: ISBN 978-1-914398-15-5.

Someone called Deborah Harvey has this to say about it:

‘A love for nature infuses these poems, though it’s never romanticised, Sara having both an eye and an ear for the dark and the all-too-human. And there’s always the laughing ‘yes’, and sexiness, and a desire for something better, which is found and made real in these poems.’

I had another enjoyable evening at a second launch, namely, the Zoom event celebrating the publication of 'High Nowhere' by Jean Atkins and 'What it Was' by Tina Cole. It was a treat to hear the poets read their very skilled and thought-provoking work. 

I also read some poems, as a pre-launch of my forthcoming collection, 'Love the Albatross', which is now at the printers and due to be published by Indigo Dreams Publishing at the end of August. Here's a preview of its cover, which has been beautifully realised by Katie Marland.

The poems in 'Love the Albatross' are about estrangement. Two of them have recently been published in journals, and can be read here and here.