Archive for December, 2014

2014 in review

Posted: December 31, 2014 in Uncategorized

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,700 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 45 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.


The final blog of 2014 from Kim Moore

Kim Moore

It is quarter past midnight and once I’ve finished writing this, I’ll wake up and it will be the morning of New Year’s Eve. Tomorrow I’ve somehow managed to make my day quite busy but filled with nice stuff.  I’ll be going on my last run of 2014 at 10am in the morning (I really should get to bed).  Then I’m meeting lovely poet Jennifer Copley for lunch.  More about Jenny in a minute.  Then I’m going to meet the other 8 members of Soul Survivors to have our photo taken for the local paper to promote our first big gig on January 30th.  That’s at 3pm.  Then I’m going round to my friend’s house who is pregnant and due any day now.  I’m having a quiet New Year’s Eve this year apart from all that, probably just staying in with the husband, who is currently ill and has spent…

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Another great blog from Kim Moore with a lovely poem about the problems of overdoing it during the festive season.

Kim Moore

Evening all!  I hope you’ve all had a wonderful Christmas, what ever you were doing.  I spent the first half of this week finishing off shopping for Christmas presents.  Normally I’m still buying them on Christmas Eve but this year I’d finished by the 23rd which I was exceedingly proud of.  A TK Max store arrived in Barrow this year which was a godsend – I bought most people’s presents there.  The husband got a box of fancy herbal teas – I wouldn’t touch the stuff, but he likes them.  I also bought him a globe which he mentioned he wanted a couple of weeks ago – he loves maps but his other two presents I bought by mistake. I went into a small independent clothes shop in Barrow and picked a T-shirt and then the assistant started offering me a discount if I bought jeans as well so I…

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The latest blog from the wonderful John Foggin. Read and enjoy.

The Great Fogginzo's Cobweb

grass in wind

“If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary life it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heart beat and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well-wadded with stupidity”  George Eliot. ‘Middlemarch’

Working in various warehouses I always liked a tidy-up, a bit of stocktaking, giving a bit of shape and order to the accumulated muddle and inconvenience of things. Or, at least, the illusion of order and meaning. And even though I always think that the Sunday Supplement and TV reviews of the the year that’s about to end smack of lazy journalism, and easy programming, I realise that this is exactly what I’m heading into. Starting with a poem that’s now over a year old, and which seems like someone else’s. As they do.

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the valley of my memories that started from a

single pipe, too dark to see beyond its mouth

too small to climb in and explore its stomach as it

spewed forth its watery contents

 

into the valley of my childhood

always moving fast in the same direction

through parts narrow and parts wide

as the sides of the valley rose and fell

 

running with the stream as

we played in its bowels

day after day after day

as the sunshine warmed wet pebbles

 

where it never rained or snowed

so we could build dens to hide in

as friends ran by seeking us

pretending to be brave soldiers

 

leaping over the narrow parts and

jumping from the highs to the lows

flying through the air like

peter pan, if only for a second

 

landing in a heap on stones

that cut and grazed our knees

our only scars of war

this was as brave as we got

 

and then the valley ended

disappearing into a tunnel

one we could crawl into

see into, no secrets in here

 

and we got through to the other side

to a dark place we did not recognise

this was not our playground

we did not belong here

 

so we would turn around and leave

this desolate place behind and

return to our valley, the valley

of a never ending childhood

© Andrew Smith 2014


The sole of my bare foot

Touches the dew of the grass

Where we would run from dusk till dawn in

Sun, rain and snow

 

We were more than lovers

More than soulmates

Two spirits separated by

Layers of skin

 

Unable to melt into each other

Unable to fade our spirits together

Unable to cease as two

Unable to become as one

 

And now you’re gone

Incapable of taking the pain

Of loving in physical form only

You went and became a spirit

 

Without me

Leaving me alone

Facing a loveless existence

Until I become a spirit

 

But the soles of my feet

Feel the soul of your spirit

Through wet, fresh mud that

Seeps through my toes as

 

Tears roll down my mask

And I sink slowly towards you

Moving ever closer to you

Becoming one with you

 

Forever

 

© Andrew Smith


Here is the link to the superb Hinterland Journal of Contemporary Poetry: http://www.hinterlandpoetry.com/

Sunday Poem by Pascale Petit

Posted: December 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

The latest blog from Kim Moore.

Kim Moore

Evening all – this will be my last blog post before Christmas Day unless something immensely exciting happens between now and then and I can’t keep it to myself.

I’ve already had one very exciting thing happen to me this week though, so it seems unlikely that anything else will happen.  A couple of months ago, I was invited by Ledbury Poetry Festival to take part in a EU funded project they are running in conjunction with 8 or 9 European Poetry Festivals.  I think it is a kind of exchange program – Ledbury have chosen 5 young/emerging poets to take part.  I had to send poems, biography etc to Ledbury and they pass all this on to the other festivals and there is the possibility that we might get an invitation to read.  I say possibility because it was made clear there was no guarantee – and because of…

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a christmas story

Posted: December 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

The latest blog from John Foggin.

The Great Fogginzo's Cobweb

mouse

‘Every year, the toys were brought down from the attic and placed under the tree hung with angels and lights and smelling of the pine woods. Every evening the toys performed, and every day the tree shed more needles on the floor until Christmas was gone. Then the tree was thrown out and the toys were packed off to the attic where they lay jumbled in a box together…..through the long days and nights they listened to the rain on the roof and the wind in the trees, but the sound of the clock striking midnight never reached them; they never had permission to speak at all, and they lay in silence until another year passed and they stood once more beneath the tree………’

And there starts one of the great stories of the 20th century, by one of its great storytellers. And you know, sure as eggs is eggs…

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The frame of the window is set high

She is forced to look up

At men in uniform with swords and medals

Other men wear smart suits and bowler hats

Names are inscribed on plaques

Letter after letter after letter

Statue’s stand high on plinths of marble

Men who have done great deeds in

Wars, government, arts, society

Names never to be forgotten

A reminder of who I am and what I can be

I look up to them all and

They aloofly stare down at me

Because they know my place in life

And I know mine because

Everywhere I go there is

Something to remind me that my

Status in life is low, my

Position is at the bottom

I Have no power