Month: September 2014

Books/

A poem by Josh Ekroy

Josh Ekroy - Ways to Build a Roadblock

It’s funny how certain names pop up regularly in the poetry magazines, one such being Josh Ekroy. I’ve had him on my radar for a while, partly because his poems always seem to have a self-assurance about them, a unique stamp, I can’t really explain but I was always intrigued because I couldn’t find out anything about Josh on the web, nor did he appear to have a collection. Then there’s the name. Some names are just memorable.

So imagine my delight to come across his first collection, Ways to Build a Roadblock (Nine Arches Press), in the London Review Bookshop, just by chance back in June. Many of the poems explore the brutal reality of the ‘war on terrror’ and can be grim reading, taking us for example to a dank, abandoned cellar where who knows what torture or incarceration took place (‘Cellar’) to a chillingly matter-of-fact account of waterboarding (‘Medical Advances’). But alongside the hard-hitting difficult truths, there’s tenderness here, and satire too. It’s very accomplished.  Ekroy brings an enjoyable sense of surrealism and subterfuge to his subject. Not only do we have a portrait of ‘Achilles in Helmand’, but the Hutton Inquiry is reimagined as the story of Humpty Dumpty (‘Lord Hutton Reports’).

I asked Josh if I could reproduce ‘Saddam Hussein’s Overbite’  – (how’s that for a poem title?) – which for me is particularly marvellous, in which a part of Saddam’s anatomy is not only given a voice, but defends its position vis a vis ‘the underbite’, and speaks with the respectful clarity of a PR man giving an apologia. Clever stuff. Enjoy.

Saddam Hussein’s Overbite 

We had only two minutes of fame when mandible
was forced to admit tongue compressor. But canines
and molars, probed for gold-capped patterns,
disclosed the true identity with a compelling smile.

We loved Iraq which boasted an expert dental service
free to all Iraqis. Nevertheless we in the overbite
are misaligned with those in the underbite
which occludes at jaw base to the front of us.

We could not help but recede, attached
as we are to bone and therefore bonded
into position. After the hanging we remained
loyal to blue lips and choked larynx which

uttered patriotic commands, minted apt sayings,
engulfed so many banquets of larks’ tongues.

 

Josh Ekroy

Josh Ekroy’s first collection, Ways To Build A Roadblock was published in May 2014 by Nine Arches Press. Saddam Hussein’s Overbite won second prize in the William Soutar competition. He lives in London.

Courses/

Launches, readings, online course, a new book … busy autumn

Someone posted recently on Twitter that poetry seemed to be “mostly about reading, writing and waiting”.  I know I’ve certainly had that kind of year up until a few weeks ago. I’d have to wait to do one of my ‘stock takes’ to see if I’ve been sending out less work this year than last, it’s felt a bit like the doldrums but in reality it may just be that I’ve had more rejections this year than before. I love autumn, and right now I’m feeling busy and fulfilled with various projects on the go, so maybe there’s a little momentum building.

New Writing South course brochure

The first half of the year was mostly about writing (non fiction) books, the first of which is scheduled for release in November. This Monday (29th) I’m giving a talk / leading a discussion for Hastings & St Leonards Writers’ Hub  about social media and blogging, as a prelim to my one-day courses for New Writing South – the first of which is coming up in October. I also have a piece to write for Poetry News, on the subject of poets blogging.

I’m also mentoring a couple of writers at the moment on their blogging, social web presence and the rest. It’s great fun to help others get to grips with it all in a way that works for them.

Next Wednesday sees the public launch of Telltale Press, the new poets’ collective I’ve started with Peter Kenny and under the expert editorial guidance of Catherine Smith. We’ve already had the two private launches in Lewes and Hove, both of which were lovely, warm events. We all sold loads of copies of our pamphlets/books and received positive comments about Telltale. The list of jobs to do once the launch is over is long – looking forward to it though. It feels like such an empowering, carpe diem sort of thing to be doing. Our guest readers next Wednesday are Anja Konig (new pamphlet out with Flipped Eye) and Rishi Dastidar (recently appointed assistant editor at The Rialto.) Do come along if you can, details are here.

On the poetry writing front, I’ve just started an online course at the Poetry School which is proving to be excellent for developing my critiquing skills, having written detailed notes on something like 12 students’ poems so far, and we’re only on the first of 5 sessions. My own first poem has only had comments from three people, so I’m hoping that improves and I start to get some useful feedback in return. There are some interesting poets on the course so I’ll enjoy seeing how all of our writing develops.

Meanwhile I’ve got some lovely things to look forward to:  forthcoming poems in The Rialto and South, a weekend with poet friends, listening to, reading and workshopping poetry at Swindon Festival of Poetry, readings of my own at the Needlewriters here in Lewes next January, plus a high-profile reading in the autumn (to be confirmed). And with a bit of luck, the launch of Blogging for Writers, for which I’m hoping to organise a blog tour. Hurrah!

I’ve been enjoying my bagload of books from the Poetry Book Fair, by the way, and will be sharing some of that here in coming weeks.

Benjamin Britten memorial window in Aldeburgh churchOh and I almost forgot – thank you so much for all the encouragement after my post about having to sing a solo and getting a bit stressed. The concert went wonderfully, I did my little ‘mouse’ spot and sang out – what the hell! – I thought of the words I was singing, from Christopher Smart’s fantastical Jubilate Agno, and felt privileged to have the opportunity. I think I was also inspired by a recent visit to Benjamin Britten’s Aldeburgh and learning more about him. He was a great champion of amateur music makers and I hope I did him proud. And as Jean Tubridy said, “This is what living is about!”

Angst/

On keeping the anxiety in check and forthcoming events/plans

Hive Meeting Room
Room awaiting transformation into launch venue for Telltale Press. Note the bars on windows so poets can’t escape.

Yikes, the poetry world can be dangerous place, can’t it? Who’d be one of those poor ‘Next Generation Poets‘? Blimey. I wonder if people forget sometimes that letting rip on Facebook is less like having a bitch down the pub, and more like broadcasting all your inner demons on one of those sheets that get strung out across the motorway with “Happy 40th Birthday BillyBob” writ large.

Anyway – I have just too much else to worry about, thankfully, to get steamed up about Other People’s Success or the heated debates thereon. Even a rejection from Antiphon was filed promptly and with hardly a harrumph. Yes folks, at the risk of going on about it yet again, the Telltale Press launch ‘roadshow’ starts this week! We’re in Lewes on Wednesday, then Brighton & Hove the following Wednesday, then the Poetry Cafe in London on October 1st, which is the public launch. (The first two events are the equivalent of the ‘private view’ – aka two chances to get it right before we take on the world – ha ha!) No need to book in to the last one in London, please just come along, would be lovely to see/meet some Poetgal mates.

We’ve got the de rigueur roller banner, the Waitrose prosecco (on offer – yay!), the hired glasses and the press-ganged helpers.. .we’ve got the lovely poets coming to read (Catherine Smith, John McCullough, Abegail Morley, Anja Konig, man-of-the-moment Rishi Dastidar  – no, not a Next Gen Poet yet, but just been appointed as one of the new Assistant Editors at The Rialto – plus Telltale poet Peter Kenny (launching his pamphlet) and myself.) Do I know yet what I’m going to read? No. Am I terrified? I’d have to break that down into 1) terror of what I’m going to say in front of my peers, many of whom are scarily illustrious poets, 2) terror of nobody turning up, 3) terror of so many people turning up they can’t get into the room and we run out of prosecco, 4) terror of the fridge breaking down and the prosecco being warm… and so on.

But here’s a nice thought to take my mind off it. On Saturday night I’m co-organising and singing in a concert with the super Lewes Singers, and have just learnt I have to sing a teeny (one minute) solo. And THAT my friends is more terrifying that any of it. Last time I had to sing an ‘almost’ solo (there were 3 of us) I had to have an emergency session at the hypnotherapist to get me through it. Gawds.

But … lots more excitement in the coming weeks. Firstly the Swindon Festival of Poetry on October 2nd – 5th. I’m really looking forward to catching up with poet friends from over that way, plus workshops with Jackie Wills and Cliff Yates, walks & readings with Maurice Riordan, Kathryn Maris, David Morley and others, and a class with the mighty Don Share. I wish I could get there on Thursday for the BlueGate Poets reading and Martin Malone and David Caddy on ‘The Editor’s Role’.

Then it’s back to Brighton for an all-day Saturday workshop with writers, on how to improve your social web presence ‘in a day’, at New Writing South. Should be intense but a lot of fun.

As for actual writing, tonight our Brighton Stanza meetings begin again after the summer, and tomorrow I’m starting with an online course at the Poetry School, looking at ‘left for dead’ poems and whether they can be revived. So that will be something to zero in on, and I’ll have deadlines to keep me going. I’ve not tried one of these courses before so it will be interesting to see how it goes, and whether it’s an improvement on the online poetry writing forum experiences I’ve had in the past.

I’ve also got plans for some interesting new features on this blog, including interviews, more about zines and blogs, and more poems from poets I’ve been reading lately, starting with Josh Ekroy – watch this space.

 

 

Books/

A day at the Poetry Book Fair

Free Verse Poetry Book Fair 2014

Ooh, poetry books. Trestle tables. Shouty snatches of conversation trying to be heard in the hubbub. “I wasn’t sure about his last collection, it it didn’t quite work, did it?” … “Oh yeah, did you hear? I got divorced – she buggered off to Germany, thank God”. It has to be Free Verse, the Poetry Book Fair, now an annual event and eagerly awaited by poets, small presses and poetry organisations nationwide. Last year I was a volunteer helper and a bit overwhelmed, to be honest, so this year I made a point of trying not to feel awkward, saying hello and chatting to people. This was greatly helped by having fellow Telltale Poet Peter Kenny to browse the exhibition with.

Having enjoyed the company of Lewes poet Clare Best on the way to London, my first port of call was the free readings in the open air teashop in Red Lion Square. Poets from Knives Forks & Spoons press were reading, one of whom was Sarah James, who I virtually met many years ago in an online poetry forum. It’s always great to put a real person to a name or a blog. Sarah was lovely and I ended up buying her collection Be[yond] in a sort of end-of-the-day buying frenzy. More about that below. Anyway, I then to-ed and fro-ed a bit between the room in Conway Hall where readings and discussions were taking place, and the park cafe. I was pleased to catch D A Prince reading at the Happenstance session. When a poem card came through the post from Happenstance with one of Davina’s poems on it, I knew I wanted to read her latest book ‘Common Ground’, so this was my opportunity to grab a copy.

josh ekroy at freeverse
Josh Ekroy

Back at the park cafe, it was spitting with rain but no-one else seemed to notice. Great to hear Josh Ekroy read and to tell him how much I’ve enjoyed his poems in various magazines over the years, as well as his Nine Arches Press collection ‘Ways to Build a Roadblock’. I hope I didn’t distract Martyn Crucefix too much by sitting with my raincoat over my head. (Worse was to come – later on I noticed the whole square was crawling with police and demonstrators on an NHS rally, but no doubt the poets gamely carried on amid all the banners and ‘oggy oggies’.)

I was planning to get to a couple more readings in the afternoon, but I confess to a long lunch break in the pub with three poet friends, even though there was no food available, so it was just crisps. Then Peter arrived and after we’d been around half the exhibition decided we need to take a load off, so back to the pub it was. So there was only half an hour until the exhibition closed and I still hadn’t spent my poetry book budget, let alone visited all the publisher tables. By this time there seemed to be even more ‘two for one’ type offers,  and I was starting to fear for the financial health of the publishers present. (“Three pamphlets for £11? Are you sure?”) Cue a bit more buying, and my feet were telling me to get them home rather than stay for the evening readings. This was my final booty (not including the various freebies which also found their way into my bag):

poetry books & pamphlets bought at Free Verse

Goodness knows when/how I’m going to find the time to read them all, but the first pamphlet I started reading on Saturday night, Isabel Palmer’s Ground Signs, published by Flarestack, I have to say is stunning. I foresee a blog post about it very soon.

I was very sorry to miss the Royal Holloway MA Students reading, as poet friend Jan Heritage was among them. Sorry Jan, I was in the pub and lost track of time, a very poor excuse I know, but I hope it went swimmingly.

Very nice to meet & chat with Roy Marshall, Emma from the Emma Press, Jenny Swann of Candlestick Press (who produce the brilliant poem cards), Meredith & Jacqui from Flarestack, Davina Prince, Marion Tracy and many other lovely poets and poetry-related peeps. Huge thanks to Chrissy Williams and her team of organisers & volunteers. I sort of hope the event doesn’t get too big for Conway Hall, as it has real charm as a venue.

Next year I’ll try to have a bit more stamina and stay for at least part of the evening. Eating properly would have helped – one piece of cake, one cup of tea, two bags of crisps and a pint and a half of lager later, I was happy to get home to a proper dinner.

Events/

On the music & poetry trail in Suffolk

The Red House
The Red House

We had a wonderful couple of days in Suffolk last week. First of all on the Benjamin Britten Trail, the highlight of which was a visit to the Red House, where Britten and Peter Pears lived through the 60s and 70s. Apparently they were hoarders,so with the help of receipts, travel itineraries, letters and photographs the archivists had a wonderful time recreating the house pretty much as it was when it was their home.

Britten is on my mind at the moment as his ‘Rejoice in the Lamb’ is one of three pieces our choir (The Lewes Singers) is performing in a concert in a few week’s time. The words are taken from the Christopher Smart poem of the same name, and the piece is mercurial and tricksy, not easy to perform well. But we have so many fine singers in the group so I’m confident it will be DARN GOOD. (And speaking of Christopher Smart, my Smart-influenced paean to snooker player Ronnie O’Sullivan just sank without trace in the Ambit poetry competition – boo! But it’s not bad – I WILL place it somewhere *evil laugh*)

Last week’s trip also took us to the Poetry Prom at Snape Maltings, with the very funny Ian McMillan and John Hegley. John’s set had a lot more melancholy about it, although his put-down to the over-enthusiastic audience members who started clapping in time to one of his sing-song poems (‘If I’d have wanted a rhythm section I’d have hired one!”) was the best moment of the night for me. Ian McMillan however is just irrepressible. My long suffering husband (on the drive there, his announcement that “I hope it’s not going to be just a couple of old blokes reading poetry!” had me momentarily stumped) actually laughed his head off.

Snape Maltings Concert Hall
Snape Maltings Concert Hall