LEAVINGS
Before the downpour and the flood, this stream was meant
for sparrows as a spa. Now insects bubble
in its yellow scum.
Irresistible the side roads, like this mucky pocket-park
where leaves of Merovingian gold still lurk
like scratch-cards in the mud.
Silver foil’s a metal dagger, trampled down between the roots,
reds and blues of ice-cream wraps
are banners in the grime.
In one soft corner of the wood a plastic bag’s a thin white owl,
puddles flecked in shattered glass a small
and sparkling green.
* Mandy Pannett is a regular contributor to IS&T. She runs an arts cafe, supports local writing groups and
enjoys giving readings and running writing workshops. She has two
poetry collections from Oversteps Books – Bee Purple and Frost Hollow.
|
||||
|
Recent Comments
Recent Articles
Search
RSS Newsfeeds
Main Page RSS
Login
Month Archive
Links
Make a donation by PayPal
Amazon Ads
 |
Tuesday, June 23
Mandy Pannett is looking at the leftovers from a downpour
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 23 Jun 2009 01:09 PM BST
Monday, June 22
Two new poems by Katrina Naomi
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 22 Jun 2009 01:16 PM BST
February
And suddenly, we’re all artists - a Brueghel of dark against the heavy white, refashioning ourselves in monochrome. Polar bears squat the fir trees. Londoners loved up in this foam disco. And I’ve had my fight for today. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It Is Not True that I sent the twins to school in the same unwashed blouses all week, that they had Weetabix for tea every night in paper bowls, that either Christine or Julie made me a pot of coffee in bed every day, that either Christine or Julie cycled to the paper shop every morning to buy my Hello, that Christine dusted and Julie hoovered after school. It is not true that I can’t tell them apart. * Katrina Naomi's pamphlet Lunch at the Elephant & Castle (2008) is available from Templar Poetry - www.templarpoetry.co.uk - and she is working on a first full length collection – The Girl with the Cactus Handshake – due to be published by Templar Poetry in October. Sunday, June 21
Latest news round-up
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 21 Jun 2009 05:26 PM BST
* Hurry, hurry, hurry – this came in on Friday but you've still got a couple of days to act... The School of Literature & Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia and the Writers' Centre Norwich with support from Arts Council England, East, are offering two Fellowships to be held by a practising writer, one during the Autumn Semester 2009 (September to December) and one during the Spring Semester 2010 (January to July). Both Fellowships are open to writers in all genres, but the Fellows are expected to be able to teach in the area of fiction and/or poetry and to contribute to the WCN programme. The most recent UEA/WCN Fellows have been Toby Litt and Henry Sutton. The fee for each fellowship will be £8000. Accommodation will be provided as required. Closing date: 12 noon on 25 June 2009.
For full details on the application process see www.uea.ac.uk/hr/jobs/acad/am20.htm * MET Press is pleased to announce the publication of a new journal. The premiere issue of the biannual journal Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, edited by Jeffrey Woodward, has been published in print, in PDF ebook, and in an online digital edition. This Summer 2009 issue is 184 pages in a trade paperback. ISSN 1947-606X. Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, with this inaugural issue, establishes itself as the first and only periodical devoted exclusively to these two mixed prose-and-verse genres. Haibun and tanka prose belong to the ancient and venerable tradition of Japanese poetry and belles-lettres. Their practice has waned in modern Japan but, with the continuing popularity of their respective parent-forms, haiku and tanka, in the West, haibun and tanka prose are experiencing unprecedented growth and diverse experimentation from New York to London, from Berlin to Brisbane, and in small towns and open countryside around the globe. Haibun and tanka prose are busily revising the general literary map and, in doing so, quietly reforming haiku and tanka also. Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, a biannual journal, faithfully represents the full range of styles and themes adopted by contemporary practitioners and intends to play a vanguard role in charting the rapid evolution of these genres. Check out Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose at www.themetpress.com/modernhaibunandtankaprose/masthead.html * Finally, Rosie Garner and regular IS&T contributor Nigel Pickard have just published issue 3 of their new poetry mag Fin – it's a no-frills (actually the production values are high) booklet (£12 for 4 issues) and we love their declaration of independence "Fin is funded by subscribers and nobody else. We wouldn't have it any other way." Hear, hear we say – organisations like the Arts Council are a distorting influence on poetry publishing – besides, what do a load of bureaucrats know about culture? For more details email thewritingshed@yahoo.co.uk Saturday, June 20
Midsummer haiga by Rachel Green
by
Charles Christian
on Sat 20 Jun 2009 07:01 PM BST
It's Midsummer's Night Eve (well it still is here in the UK) and what better than a faerie themed haiga...
 * Rachel Green is a regular IS&T haiga contributor – as well as a novel writer who will shortly become an novel author but she starts every day with walking her dogs and writing poetry. Friday, June 19
Something for the weekend - more erotic haiku
by
Charles Christian
on Fri 19 Jun 2009 05:43 PM BST
Following hard on the heels of Larry Kimmel's erotic collection from a fortnight ago, here we go with some more sensual haiku to set you up for the weekend...
his lust by moonlight which one of us the muse? between the billow of freshly washed sheets nubile naked midnight skinny dip ~ ~ ~ he calls her moonbeam winter night in bed imagining him . . . imagining it delayed flight not one tush cute as his * Wanda D. Cook lives in the USA. She is the coordinator of a local haiku group and the co-editor of the 2007 Members'Anthology of the Haiku Society of America. Thursday, June 18
Kate Mitchell's flame in waning
by
Charles Christian
on Thu 18 Jun 2009 08:49 PM BST
Wax Days
The days they melt Cascading down like Wax descending your candle Falling into each other until They harden And freeze in time Frozen over in this cold, cold city Bitter winds and harsher hearts Do you remember bedroom wall hieroglyphics? Written in pencil To be erased with the memory Of stable times What I would give for one autumn day The crunch of leaves under heavy feet And heavier hearts Would be the sweetest melody My flame is waning Flickering In and out of consciousness Tonight, just this one night I want to burn I want to cast shadows Into the darkness Of figures from happier times Tonight I want to shine * Kathryn Mitchell is a 21-year-old student living in New York City, where she majors in How to graduate from NYU without being a sarcastic, pretentious asshole. Wednesday, June 17
Making an expensive trip to the dentist
by
Charles Christian
on Wed 17 Jun 2009 09:50 PM BST
A Trip to the Dentist
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (bright light shining) (head back, eyes closed) (funny taste, weird smell) RRRREEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ “Open up wider, please” “Lift up your chin” “This may sting a bit” (needle gum pinching, injection gripping, infection slipping, pricking a purple passive haze) (cooling circular currents of numb mollify my mouth violently in vertical, soothing, yet massive waves) EEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHH LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZ “Spit” “That’s a good boy” (drooling, tongue out, panting like a dog) RERRRRREEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ “Nurse Ratched, more Novocain” “Doctor, he’s bleeding a lot” (suction device probing) SSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ WWWRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (thinking about changing my chosen brand of toothpaste) (though it says on the label that nine out of ten oral hygienists recommend it) (but what if my dentist is the one that doesn’t?) (what would that mean?) WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH “Have you been flossing?” (nodding yes) (every evening, Doctor Kevorkian) VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR VRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRR (damn, that drill sounds so high-pitched and horrid) (why couldn’t they make it sound like Mozart, Cradle of Filth, or at least 50 Cent?) (and what happened to the other patients from the waiting room?) (where did that old lady go?) (and why are all the magazines here from 2003?) (and what if Edward Scissorhands became a dentist under an assumed name and identity?) KRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZZZZZZZZZ URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE “We’ll have to take some X-Rays, too.” “I think those wisdom teeth need to come out” (cavities opening in my bank account) OOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR (levitating in the chair) (meditating on that scene from the film “Marathon Man”) KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (suddenly that Pixies song “Gigantic” dances into my head, and I am temporarily transported to bliss) (“Hey, Paul! Hey, Paul! Hey, Paul! Let’s have a ball!”) (“Hey, Paul! Hey, Paul! Hey, Paul! Let’s have a ball!”) RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAA EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (gargle) (discharge) (picturing Corbin Bernsen) EIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEOOOOOOOOOOOOO EEEEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXXNNNNNMMMMMEEEEEBBBBBEEEEWUWUWUWUWUWU “Here is my scalpel, cold and hungry” “Will you marry it?” (only if it comes with a prenuptial agreement) (I swear I’m not an anti-Dentite or anything like that) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh PTTTOOOOOOUUUUHHHHHH “We’re all done here today” “Don’t eat anything for the next two hours” “Nurse Ratched will finish you off” NAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (bleeding, rinsing, rising, walking, puking, gripping my jaw, searching for the old lady) “I’m afraid your insurance doesn’t cover this procedure” “Will that be cash or credit card?” (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO) “How will you be paying us today, sir?” (weeping) SWIPE, SWIPE, KA-CHING! “Now let’s schedule your next appointment” (running) * Newamba Flamingo was born and raised on a chicken farm in the Florida Keys by a suicidal cult of transvestite prostitutes who dressed up in gorilla suits and played loud Polka music from distorted speakers at all hours of the night. After escaping the chicken farm, he was taken hostage by an Elvis impersonator that forced him at gunpoint to write poetry. His work has been published and featured at 10K Poets, BadWriter, NC Lowbrow, MySpace, EveryPoet.Net, PoemHunter, and various toilet stalls across Florida. Tuesday, June 16
Bev Ellis has been to a reunion
by
Charles Christian
on Tue 16 Jun 2009 03:05 PM BST
Reunion
Darling, may you always be blessed with moderate success, so that when you stand for long minutes telling us how you became a producer at the BBC someone knows it was only on local radio and starts asking awkward questions – seems it was a ‘one-off’ and then someone else drifts over and asks straight out whether you think you’ll ever manage to get the morning rush-hour spot back again now that your stint as producer is over, or has that bastard of a station manager kept the young fella on daytime, leaving you stranded on the graveyard shift – and how are you coping, in the back-of-beyond with the sheep-shaggers? and someone else says ‘Oh, aren’t you in London any more?’ and you mutter ‘no’ and something about the West Country where they grow apples and someone incredibly well-meaning who is a social worker asks after your wife – they expect she’s quite fluent in English by now and will have got to grips with supermarket shopping then the first bloke says he sees you’ve drawn the short straw again, according to the Radio Times, having to work over the holidays – because it’s no joke putting out a live show at 5 am on Christmas Day: that station manager must really have it in for you and after you make an excuse to leave early, they all wonder what I ever saw in you (although they used to say the opposite) but you put us all on Facebook first thing in the morning. * Bev Ellis fled the chalk-face due to catastrophic government initiatives. She has been writing poetry for four years and can’t understand why her work is frequently assumed to have been written by a male poet; something to do with ‘an unflinching eye’ apparently. She is a life-long Alice Cooper fan. Monday, June 15
Helen Pletts has a taste for Indian spices
by
Charles Christian
on Mon 15 Jun 2009 03:34 PM BST
Jeera
Cradled on her tongue the bitter taste of cumin. She watched the oil bubble the tiny pan awake – no handle – it’s always the little pans that break. Separate from shapes familiar. Roasting the seeds she felt the heat mouthing flames to her fingers. * Helen Pletts is a regular IS&T contributor. She says about this piece "I was invited to attend some Indian cookery classes recently... which I enjoyed very much... though whether the lessons will improve my cooking is questionable(!!)" Jeera is Hindi for the Indian spice caraway cumin seeds. Sunday, June 14
Contributors' latest collections
by
Charles Christian
on Sun 14 Jun 2009 01:00 PM BST
Congratulations to IS&T contributors G W Colkitto and Wullie Purcell who both launched new poetry collections last week. Both authors are members of the Scottish writers collective ReadRaw www.readrawltd.co.uk
  |
Recent Photos
Categories
Who's there?
Google Ads
Twitter Updates 
|
||
