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Sunday, November 23
Some Days - a new Billy Collins animation
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 23 Nov 2008 06:04 PM GMT
* Billy Collins, former US Poet Laureate and one of America's best-selling poets, reads his poem Some Days with animation by Julian Grey of Headgear.
Cleave poetry webzine now up & running
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 23 Nov 2008 09:28 AM GMT
Eighteen months ago we published an example of what the author (& regular IS&T contributor Phuoc-Tan (P-T) Diep described as a 'cleave' poem. The concept is the poem can be read straight across the page OR as two separate poems – one on the left, the other on the right. P-T has now launched a cleave poetry webzine – at http://cleavepoetry.wordpress.com – and to whet your appetite, here are a couple of examples of cleaves (both by P-T)...
Cleave: November The sun weeps – cider tinted tears for Summer – for the fading for the moon that hides – light behind the trees – as Autumn leads Winter shivering and anaemic – by the hand Cleave: Charm Don’t – let him charm you don’t listen to his promises – his words like birds scattering flies – that flit from brow to lash, ready for your flesh, – stroking feather kisses on your lips he squawks in expectation – humming in your ears, flapping inside your skull – as he lies next to you. Don’t! – Let him charm you Saturday, November 22
Aldeburgh Part 3 - the great trans-atlantic poetry divide
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 22 Nov 2008 04:07 PM GMT
Naomi Jaffa, the Director of The Poetry Trust which runs the annual
Aldeburgh Poetry Festival, has filed these comments on the ongoing
debate...
"Delighted to read these online exchanges about the 'great trans-atlantic poetry divide'. I've been involved with the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival since 1993 - director since 1999 - and in the last 16 festivals would simply share the fact that our capacity audiences repeatedly say that they look forward to and find the readings by US poets the most stimulating, memorable and pleasurable. And the Festival book sales offer annual proof. Now maybe it's because we gravitate to the work of apparently 'informal' poets such as Billy Collins, Stephen Dunn, Mark Halliday, Jane Hirshfield, Tony Hoagland, Louis Jenkins, Galway Kinnell, Thomas Lux, Thomas Lynch, Naomi Shihab Nye, Sharon Olds, Charles Simic, Gerald Stern and C K Williams. But let's not forget that probably every one of these poets is fluent in the history and practice of formal poetic craft - many teach it! - but that their chosen poetic 'voice' or mode of expression doesn't tend to rely on visible/audible formal structures. Then again, what was it Wordsworth said in the Preface to his Lyrical Ballads in 1798? Something about being 'experimental' and offering a new type of poetry, one based on the 'real language of men' and avoiding the poetic diction of much 18th century poetry... Plus ca change, perhaps..."
New haiga by Maggie West
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 22 Nov 2008 10:00 AM GMT
Winter is here – well it certainly is to today in rural East Anglia where IS&T is located – so here is a seasonal haiga by Maggie West...
 * Maggie West says "After I had been writing short poems for some years, I discovered haiku while studying formal western-style calligraphy. In 1992, I became a member of The British Haiku Society and was thereby introduced to other forms of Japanese poetry. Working mainly with inks and other water-based media, I have always enjoyed 'mark making'; transforming the tactile working surface using many types of brushes, pens, quills and sticks as necessary. I try to make my handwriting on the haiga as legible as possible without being formal. As I come from a 'western art' background, my work is not traditional in the Japanese sense; however, I try to be true to the spirit of haiga." For more information visit Maggie's website at www.maggieonthebeach.co.uk Friday, November 21
Laura Stimson is remembering a long hot summer
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 21 Nov 2008 09:48 AM GMT
200 Degrees
Hot hot hot. Too hot. So hot that our shirts sucked sweaty to our backs and our feet slip-slid in our shoes. The ceiling fan folded the air like cake mixture. The fax machine had a binary breakdown, 011100001110101000111. Lucy Miller pretended to clean the fridge, rearranged the shelves like Tetris. We all commented that Dan Pearson smelled like crushed cabbage. The office manager flipped about in sodden sandals, then tossed them under her desk and pitter-patted wet footprints across the kitchen floor. And one by one the permanents left, in a haze of languid grumbles and ice-cube fantasies. The temps that remained contemplated creating office chaos. Shaving crop circles into the carpet. Messing with the franking machine, replacing the company logo with an obscenity. Putting cheese behind Hated Harriet’s radiator. Jack Doherty told us he dreamed of hiding all the staples but not the staplers. But no. Too hot for mischief. The heat stung and no desktop fan could sooth. Ellie Marr logged off. Sam Callar pressed a pack of frozen peas to her forehead. We wondered where she had got them from. Paul Hammersmith loosened his tie and said "it’s got to be at least two hundred degrees". * Laura Stimson was born in Colchester and studied creative writing at Norwich School of Art & Design. She has written for Arts Professional Magazine and has been published in ABC Tales Magazine. Laura is a musician, performing with lounge-core band The Ferries and curates cabaret events in Norwich under the guise of scissors paper stone. She currently works for New Writing Partnership and studies postgraduate prose fiction at UEA. She is magnetically drawn to Norwich, where she still lives rather happily. Thursday, November 20
Beverly Ellis is thinking about endangered species
by
Charles Christian
on Thu 20 Nov 2008 10:42 AM GMT
Endangered Species
Whatever became of the ‘fancy man’? The salesmen and under-managers in suits whose aftershave vied with toothpaste and tobacco, occasional consorts of women my mother disapproved of, who called round afternoons to see wives no better than they ought to be, those women who dared see-through blouses, dyed their hair to match a switch and had babydoll nighties on the line in the days when avocado was exotic, sex was like a shunting-yard and women didn’t come. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ A Dangerous Age Unlike me, you were always somebody: somebody’s wife, somebody’s mistress; the guitarist’s girlfriend. Expelled from more than one exclusive school, you never bothered with exams or work, your life a work-in-progress. You sent your genes skittering towards tomorrow, but can’t decide what to do today. Your body is a fever of hormone-dumping, fired up on high-octane HRT, core strengthened only by Pilates. Every frozen pea you suck: ten calories; every glass of Chardonnay: three units; each meal requiring four miles on a treadmill. You wonder why I don’t just fast like you, that I can’t be happy, size fourteen and fat. You live from man to man and, in between, your life disappears through the cracks in the pavement: a little gardening, a game of squash, a dog that’s never walked. The landscaper might have loved you, but you couldn’t tell him from Jack-the-Lad who fixed the Aga flue – badly. You ring me Saturday evenings to complain you’re home alone again, although your daughter’s just arrived with friends. That’s when the appointments run out: the gym, the Botox doctor, two types of laser, spray tan, massage, day spa, nails and hair. What are you doing tonight? you ask me. Writing? You think I definitely can’t be happy. * Bev Ellis is a refugee from the chalk-face and still jumps every time a bell rings, like a punch-drunk boxer. She writes about fractured lives, borderlines and rudeness, exploring women’s experiences with an unflinching gaze. She has escaped from Lowestoft many times, but is invariably recaptured. She has a degree in English & American Literature from Warwick and taught English in Suffolk for fifteen years. Wednesday, November 19
New podcast by Simone Mansell Broome
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 19 Nov 2008 07:27 PM GMT
Here's our latest poetry podcast recording, courtesy of PoetCasting.co.uk. The poem – Of English Lawns & Bright Piazzas
– is by Simone Mansell Broome. Simone read English at Sussex University and is now based in West Wales, living on a farm and running a centre for holidays, workshops and courses. She won first prize at Winchester Writers Conference in 2007 and chairs a local writers group. She also organises and co-hosts the monthly Word Up spoken word night in Cardigan. In 2008 Simone produced a pamphlet of poetry called Not exactly getting anywhere – described by Phil Carradice as "finely observed poems, verses we can all identify with and enjoy, poems to make you think..." The podcast is not for fans of Helena Bonham Carter, nor Merchant & Ivory movies.
* Instructions: To access this podcast: click on the paperclip, this will reveal an MP3 file attachment, click on this and a new browser page will open up with a familiar audio player plugin control panel (play, pause, rewind etc). Play the file as many times as you like – or even download it to your desktop. Then, when you have finished, click the 'back' button on your browser to return to the Ink Sweat & Tears site.  1 Attachments
Kezia Green is looking at relationships
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 19 Nov 2008 12:59 PM GMT
Rosamunda’s Embrace
A June affair for Rosa and John; controlled by carers, ruled by the sun. Childish fumbling, a twisted fist; stroke of a bud, a red petal kiss. He rhythmically tips his electric chair till the time is right to enter her. Rosa scratches with passion at his skin and whispers so gently, "You are a man." Flat on his back, ecstatic and spent, John lies in her arms, drenched in her scent. Watched from the window, panic and rush: "Help over here, John’s in the rose bush!" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The Landlord's Daughter Always good for a laugh was the landlord's daughter – gorgeous too. With Guinness-cream skin and wide mouthed smile we'd pap her cleavage on our mobiles. Then she met him (the posh twat): "Julian's taking me to Reykjavik," she said as she bent the caps off our bottles of Becks. "What the fuck's in Reykjavik?" we asked. I try to imagine her in a wet T-shirt (no bra of course) mascara running, laughing at The Blast. You see she stepped over the geyser at just the wrong time and, with flesh like a Doner, took four weeks to die. Now the landlord's off sick (it's the smell that gives him nightmares) and the new barmaid's shit; she's got acne and small tits. * Kezia Green describes herself as a short lady with dark hair. Tuesday, November 18
We all know someone like these people
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 18 Nov 2008 03:33 PM GMT
These two poems by Rachelle Renken seem to describe people we've all met at one time or another
Mature Paroxysm The voice, the one that haunts your nightmares, the one that belongs to the haughty rude old man who thinks he can control your life, infest your world with his plague, echoes piercingly down the packed hall; an unknown audience to his debasement. Everyone stops and listens; his voice grows shrill, louder, contemptuous; a frantic endeavor to attain that which he wants. To me, he is nothing more than a brusque reminder of the spoiled rotten tantrum ridden two year old I left at home. I thought going to work would offer some peace and quiet. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Skim the Top A self-made, hard working man; now one of the wealthy, entitled, depicts himself to the elite with his liberal left hand. Truth secluded by an austere masquerade; disposition stunted by decadence, morals decimated by corruption, ethics trampled by wants of a despot, he rules those beneath him with an autocratic tamper ridden right hand. Perhaps if you were to tunnel the exterior prosperous guise, you might excavate the once upon a time gentleman constrained below the scum crusted top. * Rachelle Renken is a single mother of two nightmares residing in the little town of Shawanese PA, just a stones throw away from beautiful Harvey’s Lake. She pretends to work full time as a secretary and enjoys creating a variety of arts and crafts. And here's a link to Harvey's Lake – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harveys_Lake,_Pennsylvania
New - and highly topical - haiga by Alexis Rotella
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 18 Nov 2008 09:36 AM GMT
 * Alexis Rotella lives in the US and is a regular contributor of haiga to Ink, Sweat & Tears |
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