Author: Robin Houghton

Tending seedlings & taking comfort from ‘wee granny’

I hope you’re well in body and spirit. If you’re anything like me you’re trying not to overdose on news and focus instead on Spring!

Last week’s Hastings Stanza poetry workshop via Zoom went very well, in fact I was convinced enough to then sign up for a Zoom-hosted writing session with the Sansoms next week. Something in the diary! This last week I’ve been reading rather than writing. A couple of hundred pages through The Mirror and the Light, I’m not as gripped as I was by Wolf Hall. But I’m into it. Meanwhile, Defoe’s A Journal of the Plague Year is compelling in a macabre sort of way – many, many parallels with today, both in how people are reacting to it and in how authorities are trying to deal with it. There’s also some unexpected humour.

A happy distraction at the moment is vegetable growing. I’m going to have more seedlings ready to plant out than we can accommodate, so I’m hoping the neighbours will be happy to have a courgette or two in the communal garden. Failing that I could offer them to other houses in the street, although I know many of them have communal gardens managed by agents. Maybe I should put them on a ‘help yourself’ table on the pavement outside. Although people aren’t out for strolls that much at the moment of course.

courgette and nasturtium seedlings

I’ve been keeping a ‘lockdown’ journal, just for my own interest and to remind myself (hopefully in years to come!) how we (hopefully!) got through it. Reading other people’s blogs I get the feeling the initial euphoria of it all has flattened out to more a sense of restlessness or powerlessness, even sadness. I know ‘euphoria’ sounds wrong, but I mean that initial excitement in terms of ‘it’s really happening’ and ‘no-one in the world knows how this is going to go’ and ‘we’re all (kind of) in it together’, plus getting used to all the changes and rising to the occasion. As Mat Riches says in his recent post, “apparently, we’re meant to be using this time to learn Sumerian or how to perform brain surgery and recreate Citizen Kane in stop motion using only Lego minifigs or repurposed Barbie Dolls” – but for many people it’s enough to get through the day and not worry about the family they’re not seeing or the business they’re losing.

Although I’m also fighting a creeping sense of sadness, I’ve so much to feel grateful for. Last Thursday was our youngest granddaughter’s 2nd birthday. I had fun making a card telling a story in which we all played parts, and with WhatsApp we were able to share the candle-blowing-out/cake cutting. Regular runs out with Nick make me feel that my body isn’t atrophying. The sun’s been shining and there’s beautiful scenery where I live. I watched the Queen’s message on TV last night and was strangely moved. What she’s been through. I’ve never considered myself a raging royalist but I have the upmost respect for her and I found her words comforting. In the same vein, the little video of a Scottish ‘wee granny’ that popped into my Twitter stream midweek was (and still is) a highlight for me. Do watch it if you haven’t already, you will feel better afterwards.

For once I’m actually grateful to be subscribed to so many newsletters, as companies and organisations are making great efforts to reach out to customers with new services, suggestions or just moral support. I’m not saying I’ve taken them all up, but sometimes just reading them helps. Here are some I’ve been impressed by:

On my desk I have a list of people I want to keep in touch with and am thinking along the lines of something in the post. Not that I want to overload our valuable posties. But I just feel there can be something very warm about a letter or a card, perhaps hand-made, with a person in mind. More personal than an email, less stressful than a phone call. For many of these people I only have postal addresses anyway. Another project!

As the world moves online

Wow, things are changing so quickly it’s hard to believe – for example, how people are getting themselves online – to teach, to meet, to try new things, but mostly I think to keep relationships going with family, friends, customers… when the going gets tough, the tough get tooled-up on tech. This coming week our esteemed Hastings Stanza rep Antony Mair has arranged for us to hold our monthly workshop via Zoom, which is clearly the conferencing app du jour. And last week my dear husband actually started a blog, to keep in touch with all his choirs, and had 92 followers within hours. Whaaaa?! He’ll be writing poetry next.

And so to the lockdown. I’ve begun reading Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light which is highly absorbing, and another book which I was tempted into buying, called Timeless Simplicity – Creative living in a consumer society by John Lane, a book which I thought would suit current circumstances. But unfortunately it’s nearly twenty years old and as such rather dated in its information about mass leisure, work and consumption. There’s some food for thought though. I’ve started recalling books about plagues and sieges. I remember being much moved by Helen Dunmore’s The Siege. Years ago in school I read Albert Camus’s La Peste (aka The Plague – although we had to read it in French for A level – pah!). It’s clearly enjoying a renaissance at the moment – The Guardian reports that Penguin Classics are struggling to keep up with orders. And then there’s Daniel Defoe’s Journal of the Plague Year. I had a feeling I still had a copy, and lo – there it was on the bookshelf…

Daniel Defoe a Journal of the Plague Year

I can’t wait to get stuck into this, in fact I may to read it in parallel with the Mantel, something I never do with novels.

On the poetry front I am loving Sharon Olds’ Arias. It’s firing up my writing too. I’ve no idea what the effect is of the pandemic on poetry magazines, whether editors have too much on their plates dealing with the exigencies of life under lockdown to be thinking about the publishing schedule, or reading submissions or what have you. No doubt they’ll be inundated with poems now that we all have more time to write. And plenty on the subject of you-know-what. I wonder how much ‘pestilence poetry’ we can all take for the next few years as the theme filters through to publication?

I can report there was a mad rash of cleaning in our house last week. The kitchen was scrubbed so well I had a sore shoulder for days. I’ve also been cleaning old garden pots and potting on seedlings. We’re taking our exercise in the form of walks or runs, and last week had a lovely walk up to Beachy Head where sat well away from the path and ate a picnic. Very few people about. We’re so fortunate to have this sort of countryside on our doorstep and I do hope we won’t be prevented in the future from walking though it. Fresh air, access to nature and the ability to be outside are certainly crucial to my own mental health and I’m sure I’m not alone. Wherever we walk about here it’s very quiet. I was more worried on my one visit to Sainsbury’s, even though they are limiting the numbers in the shop. (I’d like to say how good the staff were at our local store in Hamden Park, Eastbourne – friendly, upbeat, entertaining the queue – shop staff are doing difficult jobs and I’ve no doubt they take a lot of flak.) And Katya in our local shop is doing a marvellous job of keeping open, with fresh produce available every day.

Eastbourne from beachy head
Looking back to Eastbourne from the Beachy Head peninsula

I’ve loved reading other people’s blogs and seeing photos of Spring. Last week I was thrilled to discover Jean Tubridy was back blogging. Jean’s blog Social Bridge was one of the first I used to follow. Warmly recommended. Another lovely post that caught my eye last week was Ann Perrin’s tribute to her mother – what an extraordinary life she had, and Ann tells her story with such generosity and ease. Do take a look.

PS I’m 6-4 ahead in the Scrabble Challenge…

At least Spring isn’t cancelled

There’s something about the sun coming out that puts a positive spin on everything. I’ve even taken to going for a bit of a jog on the seafront. With gym and swim off the agenda we are still fortunate to be able to get up and run/walk. Thank goodness that’s still allowed. I have a friend who lives alone and we’ve pledged to meet once a week for a speed walk on the seafront, keeping our distance of course (but we both talk loudly so that’s not really an issue – just can’t gossip as much!) Yes, the sky really is this blue at the moment (but the restaurant is now shut of course).

Eastbourne seafront

Last week Nick spotted frogspawn in the pond  – our first ever batch. I caught one of the goldfish red-handed, nibbling on it, but most of it’s still there. Will we get any frogs at the end of it? The saga begins.

Frogspawn

I’ve been sowing seeds like crazy this last month, and various things are coming up: courgettes, tomatoes, chillis, peas, nasturtiums, sweet peas, basil, coriander. A bit of warmer weather would help. I’ve got two small propagators on south-facing window sills which is sunny but can get very hot, so I seem to yo-yo between pulling down the blinds (“Quick! They’re gonna fry!”) and turning on the warmth overnight so they don’t expire from cold.

My favourite place at the moment is the potting shed, or ‘pottery’ as we call it, because it’s easier to say (?). There’s a heated mat to get things going, and a poetry wall to keep me entertained in between mixing up seed compost…

Seedlings in the potting shed

Seedlings and poetry wall

Meanwhile, every evening there’s the Scrabble challenge. I believe I’m currently ahead 4 -2. When he’s not trying to beat me at Scrabble, N has taken to reading the odd TOME or two… although sometimes he gets distracted…

N starts War&Peace

What make me laugh most is the cover – ‘A MAJOR BBC DRAMA’!

I’ve just finished Ragnarok, a reworking of Norse myths by A S Byatt, rather fittingly about the End of the World. It’s just the sort of antidote to Dante. Next up, Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light – I was going to wait for the paperback, but decided to treat myself.

I’ve been struck how this pandemic situation has been bringing people closer. I’ve been in touch more with friends in Rome, Australia and the US, and even those closer to home, than ever before. Suddenly we all share the same incredulity, restrictions, fears, sympathy, changes to our day to day living, ideas of how to stay positive and active.

I hope you’re staying well and occupied wherever you may be. Vinceremo, as they (might) say in Italy.

Making, moving, cleaning, reading, studying, growing … life while social distancing

Funny how quickly our vocabulary grows around novel situations. A few weeks ago I’m not sure I was familiar with the terms social distancing, self-isolation or elbow bump. Now – well, you know.

With so many projects and events cancelled in the last few days, and many more to come, I’m reminded how crucial it is to stay positive. But what does that mean? I’m fortunate at the moment to be thinking about ‘social distancing’ rather than ‘self-isolation’.  I’m also lucky to be a bit of an antisocial person anyway. Even so, box sets and jigsaw puzzles have a limited appeal. A couple of newsletters came into my inbox today which made me feel like putting together a list of Things We Could be Doing While Social Distancing. I hope something here strikes a chord!

Making

You may not have any spare clay hanging about but what about paint? Or string or rope? The Collective Gen blog has put together 12 Projects To Do Using Supplies You (Probably) Already Have – macrame (I’ve recently rediscovered this myself and no ball of string is now safe). I recently found a rather tatty old jardiniere (plant pot stand!) for £10 in a junk shop and painted it with some leftover Farrow & Ball paint. The joy of middle-class upcycling!

Moving

“If there was ever a time to re-energize, re-connect with your willingness to sit with yourself, care for yourself – it could be now. If there was ever a time to acknowledge that your relationship to the above can have a direct impact on others – it could be now.” –  my yoga guru Adriene Mischler sends out a weekly newsletter to calm your spirit and remind you to take care of yourself and others. Plus there are all her fantastic (and free) yoga videos to do at home. I was a complete beginner when I started following her in 2018 and I love her energy and sense of fun.

Cleaning

Dusty house, dusty mind… or something like that? If you’re healthy and have got the energy how about joining me in a ritual Spring clean. No kidding. A Victorian flat seems to grow dust balls in the hall quicker than you can say ‘tumbleweed’.  Spring cleaning tips from Reader’s Digest here

Reading

It’s a bit obvious for a poet that now’s a great opportunity to read all those collections that have been piling up. However, I’d like to throw down the gauntlet. I’ve been reading Dante’s Divine Comedy, and am finding Paradiso heavy going. BUT I see there’s Digital Dante – all the text, context, commentary and much more. I’m definitely going to get help here to get me through Paradiso with a greater appreciation. If you’ve not read this work, why not set yourself the goal? Alternatively, my next classic tome to tackle is Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Can I even call myself a poet and not have read this work? I did study the Prologue and some other bits of it at school, about 100 years ago. I’m ready to go for it now, in the interests of furthering my knowledge of The Canon. At the Poetry Foundation you can read the whole prologue.

Studying

How about taking an online course? Search for ‘poetry’ at Coursera and there are any number of free courses you can join. ‘Words Spun Out of Images: Visual and Literary Culture in Nineteenth Century Japan’, ‘Modern American Poetry’,  ‘The Ancient Greeks’ – actually that last one isn’t poetry, but I bet it’s interesting. Or if you’re willing to pay, the Poetry School runs a number of online courses, as do of course the wonderful Live Canon.

Growing

The satisfaction to be gained from sowing seeds and watching them grow is hard to overestimate. I’m very, very lucky to have a garden, but even if you only have a window sill you still may be able to grow something. I think the first bit of growing I ever did was to sprout some seeds. Urban Turnip has a post entitled Best urban gardening & container growing blogs – not a recent post, but it includes links to various indie gardening blogs (ie not the big ones where you’re encouraged to buy stuff). Now’s exactly the time of year to be sowing stuff, and if it’s something you can eat, even better. It really makes you feel that life goes on, and it’s a beautiful thing. Happy growing.

Fabulous reading arranged by super-supportive publisher Live Canon

Last weekend I had the great pleasure of a trip to London with my fellow Telltale poets, Peter Kenny & Sarah Barnsley. Live Canon, who published my pamphlet ‘Why?’ last year, had invited me to join the other three ‘pamphleteers’ Tania Hershman, Miranda Peake and Katie Griffiths, in a reading at the Boulevard Theatre in Soho. The actual theatre! Not the bar, where we had the launch in November (although that was a cool venue). No, we’re talking stage, a gorgeous auditorium, a seriously professional mic… when we walked in for a ‘sound test’ Miranda was whispering the word ‘terrifying’ and I admit I was a tad nervous myself. But hey, it was intimate, friendly, we were looked after so well and introduced by Sophie in true supportive Live Canon style. It was such a privilege to read as part of the Boulevard’s Sunday Service series, and I’m very grateful to Helen at Live Canon for arranging it – it’s brilliant when a publisher really stands by your work and takes an active role in helping you to promote it.

Plus I got to see my name with the Poet Laureate’s on the same flyer – ha ha!

Boulevard Theatre Sunday Service flyer

Oddly, we’d all decided on basically the same outfit – skirt or dress, opaque tights and ankle boots. Or is this just a way that women poets of a certain age dress for readings..? Which is rather rude of me since I’m almost certainly the oldest of this group. Anyway, here we are:

 

Tania Hershman
Tania

 

Katie Griffiths reading at the Boulevard
Katie

 

Robin Houghton reading at the Boulevard
Robin

 

Miranda Peake reading at the Boulevard
Miranda

Many thanks to Mark for taking the photos… this was my view of the auditorium just before the start:

Afterwards I was mightily relieved to have a drink with my lovely pals Sarah and Peter. And all this at 4.30 in the afternoon – back home in time for dinner, how civilised!

The Telltalers
The Telltalers had a grand day out!

And speaking of the pamphlet, I was recently able to donate £30 to the Trussell Trust, which represents £1 for each copy of the pamphlet I’ve sold either through this website or personally. Five more copies have been sold since then and I have five left, so when they’re sold I’ll be able to make the final £10 donation. And thank you also to the poet who responded to my email by donating £20 to the Trussell Trust so that he didn’t have to read my pamphlet – teehee! Well, it’s a good cause!

If you have a pamphlet ready to go then why not enter it into this year’s Live Canon competition? The judge is Glyn Maxwell and closing date March 31st…

‘Why?’ is of course available from the Live Canon website. Thank you so much to everyone who has bought a copy! Much love to you all.

New update to the UK poetry mags submissions list. Also Spring coming soon.

Yesterday I sent out the latest update to the magazines subs list, which if you’re on my mailing list you should have received, so let me know if not.

There are now 112 journals (print and online) on the spreadsheet – but of course I’m always open to suggestions of more to include. The spreadsheet contains all the magazine names, publishing frequency, submission page URLs, submissions window dates, how many poems to send and other criteria. I’ve also now replaced all those way-too-long submission page URLs with TinyURLs which means you can click straight through – no more broken links or cutting & pasting.

If you’ve subscribed since yesterday, I’ll be doing another mailout later today so you’ll get it then. If you know anyone who might find the info useful, please tell them to sign up today and they’ll catch the next mailout. The sign-up form is on this page.

Giveaway

Meanwhile, thank you to those of you interested in the free copy of Tamar Yoseloff’s Formerly – I put all the names in a bag and Nick drew out the winner, none other than…. Peter Raynard – nice one, Peter, and commiserations to everyone else.

Fundraising for The Trussell Trust – latest

I’ve been pledging £1 from the sale of each copy of my latest pamphlet WHY? to the Trussell Trust (working to end UK hunger) and today I was able to make a donation of £30. Thanks so much to everyone who has contributed to this. The pledge is ongoing if you haven’t ordered the pamphlet yet 🙂

More good news

It’s March. Spring can’t be far off, can it?

Free Verse at Conway Hall

Up to London yesterday for the The Poetry Book & Magazine Fair aka Free Verse, at a new time of year (February rather than September) and back at Conway Hall.

Recently I’ve been plagued by headaches so after getting off the train I decided what I needed was a nice fresh(?) air walk across London from Victoria to Holburn.  It’s almost a straight line if you don’t mind the crowds – Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus,  Shaftesbury Avenue – but of course I tried to be clever by diving down side streets and avoiding tourists or shoppers. This always means a few poor decisions and at least another ten minutes to the journey. But it’s often serendipitous. On Savile Row I passed a blue plaque announcing ‘The Beatles played their last concert on the roof of this building’. A few streets later I came across Marshall Street Baths, a 1930s building now restored and reopened as a public leisure centre in a most unexpected location in Soho. I remember visiting it when I was working for Nike in the 1990s, to assess its suitability as a venue for a fitness event. In the end we went with Seymour Leisure Centre in Marylebone, another historic old ‘baths’ (of the type mostly disappeared from our towns) now brought into the 21st century.

I love walking around London and discovering quirky, lost or almost lost sites. Author Paul Talling’s ‘Derelict London’ walks are a must if you’re into this sort of thing and within striking distance of the city. I’ve been on a few of them – but you have to book months ahead, as they fill up within minutes of his posting them online. Subscribe to his email alerts and you’re given a day’s warning so you can be ready on the dot of 9am to hit ‘buy tickets’. Paul’s site is fascinating and labyrinthine, but you can sign up for his emails here if you’re interested the walks.

You may wonder what this has got to do with poetry, but in fact it segues very neatly into a little pamphlet from Tamar Yoseloff’s Hercules Editions that I picked up yesterday, called Formerly. It was the first pamphlet from the press, and a collaboration with photographer Vici Macdonald. Vici’s photos of London’s derelict buildings, ghost adverts and Victorian boozers were the prompts for Tammy’s sonnets. Doorstep sellers, ‘Sweeney’-style low life, barmaids and the dead are some of the voices in these poems, as the poet imagines the people inhabiting these nearly-gone and semi-lost places.  It’s accompanied by a pull-out guide describing the locations, and Vici’s and Tammy’s accompanying notes. Fascinating. I admit I’m a sucker for attractive packaging and Hercules specialise in gorgeous covers – fab fonts, spot varnish and gold leaf abound! The press’s latest publication is Martyn Crucefix’s Cargo of Limbs, which I also bought and am looking forward to reading.

Here’s my haul from yesterday:

Books from Free Verse the poetry book fair

During the afternoon I was helping Jeremy Page on the Frogmore Press table, now becoming a bit of a tradition. Next to us was Andy Croft of Smokestack, with whom I had some fascinating conversations about the ethos behind his press, communist poets, mutual friends such as Peter Raynard, and the like. I covered for his table when both he and Jeremy were on a break, and managed to sell two books and two copies of the Frogmore Papers. I’m not sure I did so well the rest of the afternoon but it was a flying start!

As ever, the Fair was as great chance to catch up, meet for the first time or just wave ‘hello’ to lots of lovely poets including Abigail Parry, Carrie Etter, Susannah Hart, Briony Bax, Tamar Yoseloff, Jess Mookherjee, Sarah James, Jinny Fisher, Liz Bahs, Joolz & Hilaire, Rishi Dastidar and Davina Prince. If I’ve left anyone out I do apologise. It was also nice to chat with people generally while on the Frogmore table, including some people who turned out to be non-poets but just come in to browse and check it out. Which was fantastic. It was quite a crush all day, but I did feel it was the friendliest Free Verse I’d been to so far. Huge thanks to the Poetry Society for their organisation of the event.

I’d like to give a shout to Jeremy Dixon of Hazard Press and his intricately-made books. At a past Fair I’d bought three of his ‘micro books’, this time my eye was drawn to pocket-sized pamphlet called Caught by a Wave, which opens out into two concertinas featuring found black and white photos and overprinted with words that repeat and overspill (rather like waves I guess). Some of the print is overlaid in blue foil. Jeremy explained that he tries not to buy new material but to use what he has already collected. Each booklet featured sightly different paper stock or colour of cover. I have number 21 of 40. A collector’s item! I was also sorely tempted by My Nineties Madonna Scrapbook, but that will have to wait for a future fair, if it’s not sold out.

caught-by-a-wave - Hazard Press

Conway Hall is an iconic building, home of the Ethical Society and venue for all kinds of events. Yesterday the Main Hall was crammed with poetry people and books, but the balcony provided a quiet place to take time out. Also a good place to take pictures.

conwayhall-stairway

Free Verse 2020

Free Verse Poetry Book Fair 2020

When the Fair ended, I was due to meet a friend for supper in Crystal Palace, that’s deepest South London to those not in the know. I was supposed to walk to City Thameslink station, but took a wrong turning somehow and ended up walking all the way to Blackfriars and catching a train from there. So it was definitely a ‘see London’ day yesterday.

I actually bought two copies of Formerly by Tamar Yoseloff and Vici Macdonald and to celebrate a lovely day at Free Verse I’d like to give one away to one of my blog readers. Just leave me a note in the comments telling me why you’d like it, and if there’s more than one I’ll put the names in a hat and draw a winner.

Music, art, poetry launch and a party

It’s February. It’s rainy and windy. What better reason for arty distractions?

On Wednesday we slipped over to Chichester to see The Sixteen perform Handel’s Acis & Galatea in the cathedral.

The next day we visited the Pallant House Gallery to see an exhibition of work by 20th century artist Jessica Dismorr and several of her (female) contemporaries. I confess I hadn’t heard of her before, but enjoyed learning more about her life and seeing some of her art, which certainly developed over her lifetime, from this:

to more abstract work such as this, one of a series of pieces entitled ‘Related Forms’:

In a neighbouring room was an exhibition of work by Jann Haworth, mostly billed as ‘pop art’ and ‘soft sculpture, which was great fun. One of the pieces got me thinking about a poem, although I’m not generally into ekphrastic stuff. On the way in, visitors had been invited to think of a person who was their own female hero and to draw her face onto a card. The resulting display was strangely moving.

The Pallant House Gallery is housed mostly in a modern extension to an original Georgian house, although you pass seamlessly from one to the other when viewing exhibitions. Having started in the new section I was struck particularly by the different smells when walking into the rooms of the old house. A smell of old building, yet each room was different. The impressive stairway and hall of the old building is also used as an exhibition space, currently Wall Pomp by Pablo Bronstein which I loved – I want massive graphics like this in our flat!

pallant house stairway

That evening I was in Brighton for the launch of the first collection by poet friend Sarah Windebank, Memories of a Swedish Grandmother, together with five other books in the new series from Spotlight, which bills itself as a collaboration between Creative Futures, Myriad Editions and New Writing South. I’m so pleased for Sarah – it’s a super collection and I was privileged to hear several of the poems when she brought them to Brighton Stanza for workshopping. I also really enjoyed the reading by Jacqueline Haskell, a poet I wasn’t familiar with, and I came away with her book Stroking Cerberus.

Myriad Launch

myriad launch

Yesterday was the third of six choral workshop days that Nick and I are organising in Lewes and Eastbourne, and despite the threat of bad weather everyone showed up and we had a fine day learning one the six Bach Motets. The workshop days are great fun and high energy but take some organising. Three more to go. Following that, Nick went off to conduct a concert and I took myself to Brighton to Peter Kenny‘s birthday party and a right good knees up among poet and non-poet friends. Sadly I had to leave unfashionably early, but I slept very well last night.

Looks like the storm is abating – I hope you’re staying dry and well.

 

Rejections, invitations, forthcoming events & what I’m reading

Despite feeling quite positive about what I’m writing at the moment, I’ve started the year with rejections from two magazines.

As usual, when I checked what it was I sent out, I thought well OK I guess it wasn’t my best work. But that can’t be right, because I remember being happy with it before sending. So who knows what kind of mind-bending reverse-psychology self-help bullshit I’m trying to pull on myself. Anyway, I wasn’t too aggrieved, partly because they were magazines I hadn’t tried before. And also I think I’m robust enough not to get too hung up on rejections these days.

I still have a handful of poems out and awaiting judgement. The question is – do I dare send out any of the new material? Or re-send the old stuff? Although I’m working around just a couple of themes at the moment, with en eye to a collection, part of me thinks I still need to get some of the individual poems published. Even though experience tells me that many new collections contain only a small percentage of published poems, if the ‘acknowledgements’ sections are to be believed.

A few interesting things on the horizon

The indomitable Helen Eastman of Live Canon has invited me, as one of the four 2019 pamphleteers, to read at the Boulevard Theatre in London on March 8th, at its weekly Sunday Service series. We all had our joint launch at the Boulevard in November, in the bar, and it was a brilliant event. I’m so glad this time I won’t have to rush off to get the last train home. I’m so hoping I can persuade friends to come to this, as my only invitee to make the Live Canon launch was lovely non-poet friend Lucy, who is such a stalwart at supporting me. Let’s see.

I was recently asked if I would judge a poetry competition for a local writers’ group, and of course I’m flattered. But with great power comes great responsibility! Being a closed competition there won’t be a huge number of entries, however they do expect feedback. I think it will be fun though.

Last week I was at the National Poetry Library in London perusing the magazines with a view to updating my quarterly list of poetry magazines, submissions criteria and windows. There are quite a few ‘artisanal’ mags among the collection – limited edition, handmade, quirky formats etc – and I was also reminded how poetry journals come and go. Magazine publishing is a tough job, for sure. Many are called to it, not so many manage to keep it going. And yet alongside the artisanal and the fleeting are the grandees that have been going 50, 70, 100 years. If you’re not on the list but would like to receive the update,  please sign up on my ‘About’ page. Next update beginning of March.

On Saturday 22nd February it’s the Free Verse Poetry Book Fair in London, back at Conway Hall. It feels like it’s been ages since the last one so it’ll be a pleasure to re-visit. I’ll be helping out Jeremy Page on the Frogmore Press table in the afternoon – please come and say hello if you’re there!

Currently reading

This month’s random shelf-pick is R F Langley’s Complete Poems (Carcanet 2015) which I’m reading through without pausing to re-read anything until I reach the end (much in the style of my ‘Reading List‘ project). Having not read anything of his before it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I’m not far enough through to come to any conclusion yet.

One collection I keep going back to is Kim Addonizio’s Wild Nights (Bloodaxe 2015). I’m back into it again this month. Kim’s work is such a palate-cleanse and there’s always something new in it for me.

Dante’s Paradiso has slipped down the pile a little – I’m finding it the toughest of the three Divine Comedy Cantiche. I’m dipping in and out of it though.

Coming up: I have Anthony Wilson’s The Afterlife (Worple Press 2019) in my to-read pile, and am looking forward to it. Anthony is undergoing a self-imposed ‘digital detox’ at the moment, the results of which I await with interest.

Just arrived: The Rialto 93 – a quick glance tells me there are some new-to-me names and some experimental-looking poems. Interesting…

Sin Cycle, a new poetry sequence from Peter Kenny

Epigraphs, we’re told, are risky – they have a habit of upstaging the poem that follows. But the quote from William Blake is an apt start to Peter Kenny’s Sin Cycle, a sequence of twenty-four poems recently published in Issue 29 of E.ratio, an online journal of Postmodern Poetry. There’s a Blake exhibition at Tate Britain at the moment: ‘radical and rebellious’ he’s called in the exhibition notes, and reading Sin Cycle there are moments when you feel you’re inside the madness of a Blake painting. I know Peter is also a writer of horror fiction, and it’s clear he enjoys a strong sense of the macabre.

The work bristles with energy and inventiveness. Right from the first stanza we’re jerked inside the narrator’s head:


Then He came. Grinding my bed-wetter’s face into dandelions,
wrecking their stalks, weeping their wart milk.

My skin was a surface he secured without slippage,
till His prick burst the ghost clock of my head.

(‘Original’)

We’re taken  through a series of good and bad days, self-obsession and tortured thoughts. The world through this person’s eyes is full of squirming creatures, human and otherwise, destined for the slaughterhouse, the dustbin, ‘squelching late-night screenings’, or just dead, fossilised, taken, ‘yawning for air in their anxious hell.’ The narrator saves his harshest criticism for himself, who he sees behaving badly in some scenarios, and victimised in others.  Catching the reflection of his face as he tortures a fish out of boredom ‘I hate myself, / loathing whatever thing is watching me.’ (‘Siamese Fighting Fish’). A game of pool is going well, and then: ‘He’s back, that version of me, / the choker who doesn’t deserve it. So I choke again’.

I found myself compelled onward through the sequence and really enjoyed the form – each poem just two stanzas of four lines each – there’s a loose narrative arc driving it and the sheer exuberance and creativity is wonderfully gripping. Not so much a romp as a yomp – there’s no missing the real anguish here, but it’s worked through with such wit and originality. Sin Cycle succeeds in being luscious, gruesome, poignant and hilarious somehow all at once. Peter happens to be a friend and I was fortunate to read versions of Sin Cycle when it was a work in progress. I was sure it would be snapped up by a UK small press, but it took a US publisher to appreciate it. But who knows, *whisper* we may yet see it in print.

You can read Sin Cycle in its entirety here, but for now here’s another taster, one of my favourites in the sequence:

(vii) Commuted

En garde, I whisper, lunging onto the train,
my elbows dexterous in their micro-aggressions.
We’re all on the same line, and I re-read
the same line, until a well-Wellingtoned woman

treads on the tail of my eye. She follows a red setter
carving through cow parsley into an open field.
He sprints, I sprint, into the priceless possibility
of a place with no station and nothing to stab for.