tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31422037228255952812024-03-12T18:40:14.968-07:00Poetry Space NewsSusan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-56526744595007991892012-01-02T03:36:00.000-08:002012-01-02T03:36:23.352-08:00Temporary closureThis blog is temporarily closed whilst a redesign of Poetry Space websites is taking place.<br />
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For updates on Poetry Space Competition 2012 and blog entries from myself and guests please go to:<br />
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<a href="http://www.poetryspacecompetition.blogspot.com/">www.poetryspacecompetition.blogspot.com</a>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-88224389544646767862011-10-18T14:34:00.000-07:002011-10-19T02:37:01.378-07:00Exploring the Personal Within the Political in the Poetry Of Deborah Harvey<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal">Poet and <i>Poetry Space</i> Editor, Susan Jane Sims reviews <i>Communion, </i>A first collection by West Country Poet, Deborah Harvey.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-59kvloa0zrs/Tp6J3hHEsCI/AAAAAAAAAIo/5DkKGrLaan4/s1600/communion+front+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-59kvloa0zrs/Tp6J3hHEsCI/AAAAAAAAAIo/5DkKGrLaan4/s400/communion+front+cover.jpg" width="255" /></a>In a recent episode of Dr Who on BBC TV, Sir Winston Churchill exclaims to the Doctor that “all of history is happening at once.” This is how I felt on reading Deborah Harvey’s first collection, <i>Communion</i>. Deborah’s knowledge of history and myth particularly in relation to her West Country heritage is impressive. The collection is wordy yet no word is superfluous within the context of these poems. Each one is a mini-masterpiece, each finding its own natural form and rhythm.<br />
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That said I won’t attempt to compete by discussing too many of the poems and will concentrate on two that I am particularly drawn to as they explore the political through a personal context. The opening poem, <i>Tobruck, </i>for example takes as its subject a World War Two veteran from a fierce desert campaign and uses this to expose the gaping wounds concealed within silence. It begins with the two minute silence of Armistice Day, something most of us feel compelled to take part in publicly or privately as a mark of respect and ritual, and explores how it masks the true story of lives irreparably changed by the trauma of war. The silence prevents one human being from really knowing another, even a daughter and a father, yet it feels like the only option to a truth so unpalatable, so impossible to imagine for those not there that it simply can’t be talked about, until a ceremony and ironically a silence brings together people with a shared history, and in its aftermath stories are exchanged as reminiscence.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Silence also implies a glossing over, shiny medals given to buy silence; the true horrors concealed so that others will continue to make the personal sacrifice that battle demands in the name of patriotism. In the scene described, the narrator of the poem, comes as close as she has ever, or maybe will ever come <i>to </i>witnessing what her father has experienced in the desert, as she catches snatches of his conversation with old comrades described as <i>“those soldiers in slippers/with cemetery teeth” </i>and she herself tries to visualise events and panics. There is both the fear of him surviving to tell her more and the fear of him not living long enough to do so. More than that there is also the fear that if he talks, will their relationship alter? Will he still be the father she knows and loves? Will her image of him remain the same? Or will a <i>“terrible beauty be born” </i>as Yeats described in a poem about the human toll of the Irish conflict.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The ties that bind us and weigh us down is further explored in the poem <i>Motherlode, </i>a fascinating many layered poem. Just the title intrigues with its multiple meanings. A lode is a plentiful supply of something, a deposit or vein of ore deep in the earth and it’s also a waterway. Using the word “lode” with “mother” to create “motherlode” implies both the idea of giving and nurturing alongside the idea of something essential being taken. A mother gives and she is also mined in the sense that much is taken from her. Spelt as “load”, the word implies a burden carried. The mother within this poem or more precisely her body is described in the opening lines:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i><i><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">her body a body of water,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"> running slack after the storm and oceanic<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is a woman altered by giving birth and/or the demands of motherhood, yet vast, abundant, her surface “mapped and moulded”. Her body has been explored and shaped by lovers, children and teams of medical professionals, her body entered, fed from and known intimately as only a woman’s body can be. In doing this the woman has reduced her own life:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> in this small life she has surrendered<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> made smaller<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Life, small anyway in the context of the universe, has been made smaller by becoming a mother. Yet this is not a negative poem. It ends with the acknowledgement that as well as being load bearing days, a woman’s child-bearing years are crucially “sacred days/with their tidal rhythms”. The allusion is both to the precious days after giving birth when bonding between mother and child takes place, and also the fertile years of a woman’s life when she is inevitably tied to and part of the rhythms of the natural world. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is a well researched and perceptive first collection from an inspiring poet. I am looking forward to future collections and to Deborah’s novel which I know is to be released soon.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Susan Jane Sims</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Editor, Poetry Space Ltd</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><a href="http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/"><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">www.poetryspace.co.uk</span></a><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><a href="http://www.poetryspacenews.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">www.poetryspacenews.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Communion. </i>Indigo Dreams Publishing, October 2011</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">ISBN 978-1-907401-51-0<br />
Deborah's poems <i>The Mary Block </i>and<i> Public Transport</i> were highly commended in <a href="http://poetryspacecompetition.blogspot.com/p/poetry-space-competition-2010.html">Poetry Space Competition</a> 2010<b> </b>and previously published in <i>Collage: the best of Poetry Space 2010.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-46527535800686605682011-10-14T04:12:00.000-07:002011-10-14T04:16:16.085-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m-389dpUilY/TpgYq6suzLI/AAAAAAAAAIg/oc78icpU1tw/s1600/_2059651569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m-389dpUilY/TpgYq6suzLI/AAAAAAAAAIg/oc78icpU1tw/s1600/_2059651569.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">As we are well into Autumn I thought</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">I'd share a poem I wrote two Autumn's ago.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">Autumn’s Fall<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">This morning on my walk</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span">the leaves from Autumn’s fall</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span">are held in an inch of mud and roadside rain.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">Oak, ash, birch, identities</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">merge together, Streaks</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span">of red, gold, green hint at a craftsmanship</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">that some ascribe to God, </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">others to evolution.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">I pick out an empty beer can. Think</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">how human life can end in ditches.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">Wonder how long it takes</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span">for flesh to float</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span">on stagnant water.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span">© Susan Jane Sims ( November 2009)</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Read more of my poems in <i>Irene's Daughter, </i>a pamphlet collection available from Poetry</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Space at http:// www.poetryspace.co.uk </span></span>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-58646937905024049052011-10-13T16:03:00.000-07:002011-10-14T04:27:19.363-07:00Coming Soon - Beneath The Dreaming Tree by David R. Morgan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xa_PMeU2fUM/Tpd22FIlTxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/04kSs3hhT7g/s1600/.dreamingtreecoverblog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xa_PMeU2fUM/Tpd22FIlTxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/04kSs3hhT7g/s400/.dreamingtreecoverblog.JPG" width="287" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This fabulous collection will be published on October 25th by Poetry Space Ltd. It is available to order at the discounted price of £6.95 from the Poetry Space Shop at www.poetryspace.co.uk - go to bookshop.<br />
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Sample poem:<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 16px;">Shining<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">There is something waiting here,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">still as the caught breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Specimens in the bar blow kisses<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">at never-never princes – frogs in bottles.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Rooms that once thrust forth dreams<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">bursting wet with magic,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">simply stay ruminating.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Metal chisels down flesh to magnify destinies of rust;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">electricity magnifies rock that once was a shooting star.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Beside an en-suite sarcophagi<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">a ghost in a myth-mask hits top C<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">and whipping slantwise disappears.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Artificial light turning alien with curious claws<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">tears reality asunder…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">and what remains? Figures in a frieze;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">worrying nursery rhymes ready to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">There is something waiting here still as the caught breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">it is not a silence built of empty air;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">it is the mystery, of an untrod stair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="en-GB" style="font-size: 11pt;">Copyright David R. Morgan 2011.</span></div></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-50311437834206642632011-09-18T07:49:00.000-07:002011-09-18T08:38:40.944-07:00Book Launch - Like It Is by Philip Lyons - September 12th<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6W3j-1k1BUA/TnX77U7KgSI/AAAAAAAAAGU/x6nwxLrs9bU/s1600/philbookps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">Forty poetry lovers gathered at <a href="http://www.thelansdown.com/The_Lansdown/Home.html">The Lansdown</a> in Bristol to celebrate the launch of Like It Is by Bristol poet Philip Lyons. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">There were many established fans there as Philip has taught creative writing classes and poetry day schools in Bristol for many years. There were also new people who had come along because they enjoy hearing poetry read aloud or wanted to sample this collection before buying.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">The highlight of the evening was for me the opportunity to hear Phil read from this lovely collection. After working hard on the technical side of this production and making sure every comma and full stop was in place, it was a pleasure to sit back and focus on the poems themselves and to remember why I had wanted to publish it. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">Philip and I worked together for a while, many years ago, and shared our love of poetry. I remember a particular day when Phil read a poem of his to me and tried to pass it off as Philip Larkin's!! The latter was and I believe still is a favourite of Phil's and you can see the influence of Larkin on Philip's work. The wry sense of humour that he shares with Larkin is evident in poems like Marlborough Country and The Big Match from this collection. However Philip's style has matured since those private readings and he no longer needs to pretend that his work was written by someone else... He has a poetic voice that is compassionate, optimistic and entirely his.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">I spent the evening chatting to our guests. Many were very </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">complimentary .</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">One guest commented:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"> <i>"It's my kind of poetry and I feel I've been waiting for it for a long time - thank you for providing the gift of it at last."</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"> Another wrote to Philip a day later: <i>"Yesterday was special. Beautiful poems, beautifully read. And a lovely gathering in a perfect venue. I hope you're still basking in the moment..."</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><i></i>Philip himself called the night his <i>"Oscar moment." </i>If you came early in the evening you would have spotted Phil mopping up a spillage from the floor so I can safely say that stardom hasn't gone to his head.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">That said<i>, </i>I was delighted to share this wonderful moment with Phil and his family. A sincere thank you to to everyone who came along and to the Lansdown staff for brilliant service.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">You can buy the book at the retail price of £7.95 from <a href="http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/phdi/p1.nsf/supppages/3703?opendocument&part=5">Poetry Space Bookshop</a>, or from Amazon books.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">ISBN: 978-0-9565328-5-5 </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">If you missed this event Philip Lyons will be at The Pierian Centre on October 1st from 2.30pm <a href="http://www.lapidus.org.uk/">Lapidus SW event</a> and at The Georgian Lodge , Bradford on Avon on November 22nd at 7.30pm <a href="http://dawngorman.co.uk/PeoplePage.html">Words and Ears</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Sue</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-9981237622539286812011-09-06T14:14:00.000-07:002011-09-11T05:58:09.146-07:00Poetry Space Competition 2011 - Green SpacePoetry Space Competition 2011- Full Results<br />
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This year we invited poems on the theme of Green Space and we are thrilled with the results. We were privileged to have Rose Flint judging.<br />
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Read the top three poems below followed by a list of entries that were highly commended by our judge.<br />
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<b>Styx</b><br />
<br />
Like a bridegroom's shoes<br />
swamped by confetti<br />
or sugar paper lost<br />
beneath a child's spilt glitter,<br />
the water is hardly visible<br />
between the glistering silver<br />
bodies that rise and fall<br />
on the narrowboat's bow wave.<br />
<br />
The wake stretches behind,<br />
a mourner's silk tie;<br />
water mordant with black dye,<br />
until the fish float back.<br />
Morning sun flashes Morse off scales that shimmy and dance,<br />
signalling our loss<br />
with their grim brilliance.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><b>© Derek Adams (Essex, UK)</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b> <i>1<sup>st</sup> Place</i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Cornflower</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">there:</div><div class="MsoNormal">a rising nearness, a beacon</div><div class="MsoNormal">its blueness a raggy topknot mix</div><div class="MsoNormal">of indigo, azure and violet</div><div class="MsoNormal">that humbles you to silence</div><div class="MsoNormal">as you stumble across its sudden fullness</div><div class="MsoNormal">signalling from wheat-field trespass</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Consider its other names:</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal"> Hurtsickle from its tough stems - </div><div class="MsoNormal"> that angelicaed haze of greyey-green</div><div class="MsoNormal"> blunting the reaper's scythe</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Cyanus, its memento of the garland</div><div class="MsoNormal"> his namesake garnered as a lad</div><div class="MsoNormal"> to frame his love for Flora</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Remember these</div><div class="MsoNormal">and recall this flower</div><div class="MsoNormal">the single bloom to grow in Nagasaki's aftermath</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Hiroshima's wreath</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cornflower,</div><div class="MsoNormal">talisman of hurt, of youth, of hope</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>© Roger Elkin (Staffordshire, UK)</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b> <i>2nd Place</i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>San Story</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Somehow the photo of them</div><div class="MsoNormal">came out black and white.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Their village was moved</div><div class="MsoNormal">three days' walk</div><div class="MsoNormal">from this ancient ground,</div><div class="MsoNormal">but five young men stayed</div><div class="MsoNormal">to share with tourists</div><div class="MsoNormal">their skills, mode of living</div><div class="MsoNormal">and sense of humour - </div><div class="MsoNormal">snapshots of a dwindled life</div><div class="MsoNormal">exploiting the Kalahari's meagre resources.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We follow in their bare footsteps,</div><div class="MsoNormal">behind soft wraps of kudu skin</div><div class="MsoNormal">and slant sticks,</div><div class="MsoNormal">as they indicate plants for healing,</div><div class="MsoNormal">insects delicious to eat,</div><div class="MsoNormal">take turns to enact stories</div><div class="MsoNormal">with vivid gestures,</div><div class="MsoNormal">San words tumbling out</div><div class="MsoNormal">punctuated by rapid clicks of the tongue.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The star performer plays a hunter</div><div class="MsoNormal">who kills an ant-eater,</div><div class="MsoNormal">then cuts open its stomach,</div><div class="MsoNormal">returning the live ants within,</div><div class="MsoNormal">to the ant-hill.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And as the men leave,</div><div class="MsoNormal">straight-spined</div><div class="MsoNormal">balanced,</div><div class="MsoNormal">their lively colours</div><div class="MsoNormal">fade to black and white.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>© Margaret Eddershaw (Greece)</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><b>3rd Place</b></i></div><br />
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The following poems were highly commended:<br />
GM Fields - Angela Platt (Newport, Wales)<br />
Fox - Fiona Melrose (Suffolk)<br />
Bumble-bee - Martin Bates (East Lothian))<br />
Inverbeg Chapel - Dorothy Baird (Edinburgh))<br />
The Welcome Dark - Dorothy Baird<br />
Thorpe Malsor: winter allotments - Damian Gardner (Kettering)<br />
The Gentry Weed: Rhododendrums - Roger Elkin<br />
In the Cloister Garden - Gill McEvoy (Chester)<br />
On Porpoise Margaret Eddershaw (Greece)<br />
Tree on the Drostdy Lawns - Harry Owen (South Africa)<br />
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Prizes are on their way to all the above, with our top three poets winning £60, £30 and £15 respectively along with free copies of our forthcoming anthology. All those highly commended will receive a pack of five limited edition cards featuring verses by Azadeh K Taj and beautiful flower photographs by Courtney Louise Howson. The cards are hand finished by my sister, talented card maker Marilyn Benson.<br />
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<b>Judge's Report</b><br />
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</b><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">I read the entries for the ‘Green Space’ poetry competition with great pleasure. We had asked for poems that were environmentally themed, giving attention to ‘nature, growth and organic living’ and I happily immersed myself in poems that sang, mourned, and celebrated many aspects of the natural world. There were fewer poems engaging in the big themes of climate change and extinction than I had expected, instead, most poets stayed within their own communities of garden or locality.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few poems touched on the other species who share our lives within our green spaces– the birds, animals, fish and insects that create such joy in our midst, but most writers concentrated on landscapes, from forest to backyard. A deep care and concern for Earth came through very strongly in poem after poem. Writing about the things which touch us most, can often lead us into forgoing some of the craft of the poet in our desire to explain a point of view, tell a story, give information or simply express emotion, but the poems which I chose as prize-winners and highly commended, all used their skill as the vehicle for their expression – rather than simply putting the expression into poetic form. And all of them offered the reader another idea beyond description, inviting the reader to engage thoughtfully with the poem. These were well-crafted poems that created something newly-minted for the reader to draw in, a resonance that could continue well past a first reading. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In first place <st1:place w:st="on"><b>Styx</b></st1:place> is a beautifully layered poem, which uses careful and original language to share experience. The simple gentle innocence of the first images – <i>confetti/sugar paper/glitter </i>work strongly against the darkness of the second verse –<i>mourners/mordant/Morse…</i>that first verse, suggesting something casual, unaware of the consequences so movingly described later. Using the word <i>Morse </i>leaves us to supply what that Morse message might be – and immediately we think of<i> Save Our Souls..</i>.This poem allows us to be active, to work at the image and the codes of the metaphors, to be thoroughly engaged. The last line too shakes us, because we can empathise with its uneasy contradiction.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Cornflower,</b> in second place, does impart a lot of information and learning. Yet it does so with great delicacy, leading us skilfully to shocking revelation which opens out the poem to a kind of meditation. Here, somehow the spiritual and material context of the colour blue itself (blue planet/Virgin’s robe) is implied.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In <b>San Story</b>, third prize, the poem wins through by not over-telling the story. Here is a poem which is deeply poignant and heartfelt but which is controlled enough to use one simple metaphor to express whole world. </div><br />
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<b>Rose Flint - August 2011 </b><br />
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</b><br />
Later in the year we shall be producing an anthology of "green space poetry". The above poems will all be included along with the following worthy entries:<i> June</i>, Dorothy Baird, <i>Cows in Meadow Flowers</i>, Juliet Wilson, <i>On the Avalon Marshes</i>, Gillian Penrose, <i>Peace on the Groves</i>, Ben Lowings, <i>Whalesong</i>, Angela Platt, <i>Choreographing Transformation and Gaggle,</i> Katrina Plumb, <i>The Leaf Machine</i>, Simon Jackson, <i>Sometime after 5,17am </i>Bob Woodroofe, <i>Also a Miracle</i>, Harry Owen, <i>Breathe, </i>Karen Harvey, <i>Turbine, </i>Rosie Godfrey, <i>Green Innocence</i>, Mike Lee.<br />
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A sincere thanks to all who entered.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sue Sims</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Co-editor, Poetry Space</span>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-10211652751122311562011-08-31T10:32:00.000-07:002011-08-31T10:38:16.944-07:00Long Distance Love<div class="MsoNormal"><b>I'd like to share a poem I wrote recently on a trip to the US for the wedding of the young people below; Rob my nephew and Rachel my new niece.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Long Distance Love<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-k1FMSNjVk1Y/Tlz02_VyixI/AAAAAAAAHhg/_Z3E1ZIIJQM/s1600/1107%252520USA%252520%252528192%252529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-k1FMSNjVk1Y/Tlz02_VyixI/AAAAAAAAHhg/_Z3E1ZIIJQM/s320/1107%252520USA%252520%252528192%252529.jpg" width="320" /></a><i>(For Rachel & Rob)<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Your long distance love<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">survived the miles separating you,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">bloomed and grew,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">and got you through<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">all the form filling and the bureaucracy,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">and the hours and hours of wedding planning.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And brought you to, this one perfect <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">day of celebration.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i>©Susan Jane Sims<o:p></o:p></i></b><br />
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<b><i>Rob and Rachel together with some of their friends run an enterprising new theatre company in New York : <a href="http://www.onthesquareproductions.com/">On the Square Productions</a> with regular shows and readings. If you are in the area why not pay them a visit.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br />
</i></b></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-9376959257249929232011-08-29T14:44:00.000-07:002011-08-29T14:44:10.327-07:00Poetry Space News Update 2011 - updatePoetry Space Competition 2011 has been judged and I have contacted all the winners. I will be publishing the full results here including the report by our judge Rose Flint and the top three poems once I have heard from all the winners.<br />
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Meanwhile I can tell you that the winning poet lives in Essex, UK and amongst the top thirteen we have entries from Greece and South Africa!!<br />
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We shall shortly be launching our first full collection of poems as a perfect bound edition. This marks a step up for Poetry Space as up until now our collections have been mini-pamphlet collections.<br />
<br />
The first poet to have a full collection published by us is Bristol poet Philip Lyons. His book, Like It Is contains 52 superb poems. The launch will be on Monday September 12th in Bristol. If you would like a personal invitation please get in contact. susan@poetryspace.co.uk<br />
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The book has had fantastic reviews including one from this TS Elliot prizewinner, Philip Gross:<br />
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<div class="yiv1351713637msonormal"><i>There is a deep faithfulness in this poetry - no straining after the exotic, but a commitment to the common ground of lived experience. It holds true, with deft forms and lucid language and a quiet wit. Philip Lyons' writing is of a piece with his teaching and his therapeutic work, an example of how anybody's life gains meaning in this clear impartial light.</i></div><br />
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Philip Gross, June 2011<br />
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We have already sold six copies ahead of the launch. If you want to buy it and take advantage of our very special offer - £6.95 plus free postage (retail 7.95) then visit us at:<br />
<a href="http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/phdi/p1.nsf/supppages/3703?opendocument&part=5">http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/phdi/p1.nsf/supppages/3703?opendocument&part=5</a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Bye for Now, Sue</span>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-46417889427341935802011-07-14T12:46:00.000-07:002011-07-14T14:53:57.693-07:00Photography and Poetry Challenge (4)<div class="MsoNormal"><b>Starting Point</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Put yourself at the mercy of the words.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Start with stream.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">See if it takes you to the wide Zambezi<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">and the “smoke that thunders”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Or if it takes you home.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-f3TERmNme6g/ThyZalJTAHI/AAAAAAAAGuY/M-PxkVZVftk/s400/0904Zambia%252520%252528111%252529.jpg" width="266" /></div><br />
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>© Susan Jane Sims</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal">If you have been following this blog, you will know that Chris and I have set one another a challenge, to write poems, in my case in response to photos that Chris has taken and in Chris' case to take photographs to go with poems that I have selected for him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This time his task was a little easier as he already had some great images of the Livingstone Falls from our holiday in Zambia a couple of years ago. The above shot really shows the power of that water. I loved the Zambezi. We had a great time canoeing on the river and I took a bit of a ducking in the rapids. Luckily I was with the instructor at the time!!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>As always, comments are appreciated. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Sue</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-42282514326186287392011-07-13T02:06:00.000-07:002011-07-13T16:11:16.451-07:00Photography and Poetry Challenge (3)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jshEcQv0QTY/Thdz_E8dAyI/AAAAAAAAGmY/msCNq-Ti61w/s400/single%252520point.1.jpg" width="240" /></div><br />
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>© Chris Sims</div><div><br />
</div><div>For this next challenge the photo above came first. It was taken at Cabot Shopping Centre Bristol.</div><div><br />
</div><div><b>Windows Of My Mind</b></div><div><b><br />
</b></div><div>When you died</div><div>I thought you'd float</div><div>beyond the blue</div><div><br />
</div><div>and though the pull<br />
is strong</div><div>you never quite<br />
slip from view.</div><div><br />
You're there,</div><div>pressed against</div><div>the windows of my mind</div><div><br />
</div><div><div class="MsoNormal">© Susan Jane Sims</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Please feel free to post comments, Sue</i></div></div><div><br />
</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-16628149000920001112011-07-12T04:17:00.000-07:002011-07-13T15:50:59.305-07:00Poetry and Photography Challenge (2)If you have been following this blog you will know that my husband Chris and I are challenging one another. I am writing poems to go with specific photographs that he presents me with and he is taking photos in response to particular poems of mine. This time the poem came first.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><br />
</div><div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Night Watchman</span></b></div><div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The feathered watchman rests</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">with one eye open </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">to guard the others, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">head tucked into chest.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">© </span><span lang="EN-US">Susan Jane Sims</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="265" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DkfzT7386DA/ThwrJzozrhI/AAAAAAAAGrQ/0W1jkl78aho/s400/IMG_7391.jpg" width="400" /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">© Chris Sims</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Please leave comments.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><i>Sue</i></span></div></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-56334517289965247172011-07-11T08:37:00.000-07:002011-07-13T16:18:45.278-07:00Poetry Space Competition 2011 -"Green Space" update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ADJnY5qLSk/ThsYJdFVMOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/2hJfik1Ktv4/s1600/100_0500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ADJnY5qLSk/ThsYJdFVMOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/2hJfik1Ktv4/s400/100_0500.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The Poetry Space Competition 2011(adults) closed on June 30th. 60 poems were entered. The poems are now being judged by Rose Flint who will select our first, second and third place winners and also ten highly commended poems. We did not have as many entries this year and I think this was due to having a theme rather than an open competition.<br />
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However many thanks to all the participants. Rose is really looking forward to reading all the entries and selecting the winning poems.<br />
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Rose says:<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">"I want to find poems that surprise me, poems that are sudden, new ways of thinking or oblique glances at things. I’d love to find poems that move me to tears of joy or empathy – and poems that have something serious to say about the world. And I am really hoping that all the poets will be writing because they love poetry, in all its varied language and texture."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sadly the young people's competition had to be abandoned </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">for lack of support.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Results will be published on September 30th and the winners notified.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Good luck to everyone!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Bye for now,</i> <i>Sue</i></span></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-83466788975322146742011-07-09T10:15:00.000-07:002011-07-13T15:51:33.239-07:00Photography and Poetry Challenge (1)<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yBKV7rbe6SY/Thdz51EELMI/AAAAAAAAGl4/QGfLZOvC2so/s1600/7%252520Sequence%252520of%252520composition_0090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yBKV7rbe6SY/Thdz51EELMI/AAAAAAAAGl4/QGfLZOvC2so/s400/7%252520Sequence%252520of%252520composition_0090.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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My husband Chris is a superb photographer and you will all know I love to write poetry.However I find some of the best poetry comes when I am challenged in some way to do something different. Yesterday Chris, who has just started studying photography with the Open College of the Arts (OCA) suggested that we might collaborate in some way. "How about you writing some poems to go with some of my photographs?" he said." How about you take some photos in response to some of my poems?" was my reply. The challenge was born. </div><div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Here is my first poem in response to the photo above:</div><div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<b>Age of Plastic</b><br />
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</b><br />
<b> They've eliminated </b><br />
<b> our smiles</b><br />
<b> and left us with</b><br />
<b> fixed gazes,</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b> eliminated our curves</b><br />
<b> and left us with</b><br />
<b> straight lines</b><br />
<b> stretching to infinity.</b><br />
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</b><br />
<b> Our differences</b><br />
<b> are healed</b><br />
<b> and in the face</b><br />
<b> of the other</b><br />
<b> we see only ourselves.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Copyright Susan Jane Sims</b><br />
<b>Photo Chris Sims</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<i>Bye for now, Sue</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-15642993356088294912011-06-19T08:00:00.000-07:002011-07-13T15:52:25.808-07:00In His Ninetieth Year<div class="MsoNormal">Last weekend we celebrated both my sister's sixtieth birthday and my Dad's ninetieth. Just before I wrote this poem about Dad. I feel it really sums up his positive attitude to life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">In his ninetieth year<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In his ninetieth year, Dad has sown seeds</div><div class="MsoNormal">and transplanted little seedlings to the garden,</div><div class="MsoNormal">made a plant stand,</div><div class="MsoNormal">gathered purple sprouting broccoli</div><div class="MsoNormal">for his daily dinners</div><div class="MsoNormal">and laid carpet tiles in his bathroom.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">He wants to make a bird box now</div><div class="MsoNormal">or a table. His love of making things</div><div class="MsoNormal">is undiminished. He loves to use his hands,</div><div class="MsoNormal"> loves to stroke wood, make joints</div><div class="MsoNormal">and corners.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This latest idea was inspired by a visitor</div><div class="MsoNormal"> to his garden, described to me in detail</div><div class="MsoNormal">and identified at his urging </div><div class="MsoNormal">on what Dad calls my marvellous phone,</div><div class="MsoNormal">as a coal tit. A tiny bird, an old man,</div><div class="MsoNormal">a new beginning.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Susan Jane Sims<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-44047269962250356552011-04-01T09:46:00.000-07:002011-07-13T15:58:56.047-07:00Learning to love what you've gotThis week has been a struggle in some ways. I have been organising a conference to take place at a lovely venue in Bath (The Royal Literary and Scientific Institution) on Sunday April 10th. The subject "Trauma & Reflective Practice". Designed to be useful for anyone in the health and caring professions and with three great speakers including Professor Kim Etherington, I thought this would be a doddle to sell tickets for. I was wrong. It has been a struggle and in that struggle I started to lose sight of what really matters. I started to get angry and resentful that I had put all this work into this project and it was not being appreciated and I started to think about the money that it is costing our little organisation (not Poetry Space but Lapidus SW, an organisation I am chair of). What I'm really feeling worried about of course, is being made to feel foolish, to be found wanting...<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TdUPncks4jQ/TZYBMPABATI/AAAAAAAAADM/naKN-i2dY_A/s1600/lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TdUPncks4jQ/TZYBMPABATI/AAAAAAAAADM/naKN-i2dY_A/s320/lake.jpg" width="320" /></a>Then I started to feel better. So what changed my mind? I think it was the realisation that it is not entirely down to me and also that I have to accept that not everyone is going to want to come and learn about this topic. It's a heavy one after all for a Sunday. I also started to realise that I was dwelling only on the negatives. Yes not as many people have booked as I hoped however ten people have booked and are are coming and they are eager and committed and want to come and learn and enjoy the day and I owe it to those people to swallow my own personal disappointment and go ahead. Personal successes and failures don't really come into it. Whatever happens I'll survive.<br />
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I know that as soon as I relax over this more bookings will come in.<br />
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If you would like to come along, the themes are: reflecting on the impact of working with trauma, surgical trauma and the trauma of growing up with substance abuse. Our speakers will be supported by professional members of Lapidus, including myself who will lead a reflective writing workshop after lunch. The day will also include an opportunity for meeting others in the field.I am looking forward to it. It should be a brilliant day.<br />
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Mention this blog and you'll receive a discount.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sue</span><br />
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<i>Lapidus is the UK organisation for creative writing and reading. For more information please go to: www.lapidus.org.uk</i>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-44698106047138875202011-03-12T06:49:00.000-08:002011-07-13T16:20:04.732-07:00Green theme for Poetry Space Competition 2011<a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-kKynNzSdg7I/TXuHQ5paqOI/AAAAAAAAADI/ntwK7nPKd9Y/s1600/1006South+Africa+%2528154%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-kKynNzSdg7I/TXuHQ5paqOI/AAAAAAAAADI/ntwK7nPKd9Y/s320/1006South+Africa+%2528154%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">As a company with a belief in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">organic, sustainable creative growth, bearing in mind quality, collaboration and care in all our products and services we felt that a green theme for this year's competition would be very apt. We are calling it </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">“Green Space,” and we welcome poems with an environmental theme, allusions to nature, growth and organic living.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">We are really thrilled to have Rose Flint judging our adult section as Rose has really green credentials. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;"> She is a long term green and a facilitator for the world-wide environmental movement ‘Be The Change.’ She is also a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">prize winning poet, amd her awards include the Cardiff International Poetry Competition and the Petra Kenny International Poetry Prize, two Poetry Places and a Year of the Artist award. Her collections are Blue Horse of Morning (Seren), Firesigns (Poetry Salzburg) Nekyia (Stride) and Mother of Pearl (PSAvalon). Her poetry is also published in numerous anthologies and magazines including Poetry Review, Resurgence and The Rialto. </span><br />
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Read Rose Flint's prize winning poem <a href="http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/roseflintpage.html" style="color: navy; text-decoration: none;"><i>The Field</i></a>.<br />
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As a new venture for poetry space we would like to invite young writers between the ages of 12 and 16 to enter . This section will be judged by Children' author and poet, Moira Andrew. Moira works with Poet-in-schools, currently on a writing project in the RCH, Truro and working with children in hospital. Moira also works with adult writing groups and is author of a number of books for teachers including Language in Colour, Paint a Poem & Legend into Language, (Belair/Folens) She is also a well-published children’s poet.<br />
Her poetry collection for adults include Light the Blue Touch Paper, (1986 & 1989), Fresh Out of Dragonflies, (1995) & This year, Next Year, (2004)<br />
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Read a selection of <a href="http://www.moiraandrew.com/pages/poems/portrait_of_a_dragon.htm" style="color: navy; text-decoration: none;">Moira Andrew's poetry</a>.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">Entry fee: £5 per poem adult, £2 per poem 12-16's. Deadline June 30th 2011<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma, Verdana;">For details on how to enter please go to Poetry Space Competition 2011 <a href="http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/phdi/p1.nsf/supppages/3703?opendocument&part=8">Poetry Space Competition 2011</a></span><br />
<form action="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr" method="post" target="paypal"><br />
Do consider entering. we are an independent company and we don't receive any funding from arts organisations. The proceeds from this competition will enable us to promote poetry through our free international online magazine , widen participation and get more talented poets into print where they be read more widely.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Best wishes,<br />
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Sue</span><br />
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<div>Textile and Haute Couture visionary Omar Mansoor dazzled his audience with a poetic-inspired collection at London Fashion Week.<br />
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Launching his series of delicate gowns at the Charing Cross Hotel on Sunday, 20 February 2011 <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IKBxrVAjA1w/TWJ5IcHGHiI/AAAAAAAAABQ/y8MrLrUdCgY/s1600/OMARLONDON.jpg"></a>the eagerly-awaited collection was based on Milton's <em>Paradise Lost </em>and the spiritual complexity in the Garden of Eden.<br />
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Combining eastern details, woven lace florals and sheer fabrics, the gowns ranged from the pure, natural, organic colours of aniseed green and olive to more sensual and seductive pink tones and plunging necklines.<br />
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A wonderful synergy of angel meets devil, decadence meets elegance and curiosity meets fantasy.<br />
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The collection is the fourth in Mansoor's breathtaking couture career, and celebrates his unique aesthetic vision and exquisite attention to detail.<br />
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For more about Omar Mansoor please visit: <a href="http://www.omarmansoor.com/">http://www.omarmansoor.com/</a><br />
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<em></em></div>Azadeh K Tajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03914429655412928100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-61515207427652358592011-01-24T16:06:00.000-08:002011-08-22T15:23:07.996-07:00Irene's Daughter Inspires Others To Write What's Inside<i>The highest purpose of art is to inspire. What else can you do? What else can you do for anyone but inspire them? <b>Bob Dylan</b></i><br />
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Thank you to everyone who came along to The Pierian Centre in central Bristol on a cold Saturday afternoon for my <i>Irene's Daughter </i>workshop.I had a warm response to my poetry and comments which included:<br />
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<i> "it was a real privilege to hear you read"</i><br />
<i> "your poems cut right to the heart"</i><br />
<i>"the strength of your poetry is in the detail"</i><br />
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It felt self-indulgent to read so much of my own work at one sitting; not something that I am yet used to.It was very special because the poems, written as a tribute to my mother mean so much to me. She and I had a complex relationship and since her death I have worked through my grief by writing poem after poem..<br />
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This is one the group particularly liked:<br />
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<i>Mother Love</i><br />
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The dress inflates<br />
and I drift out<br />
of the line of fire<br />
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A crimson balloon<br />
patterned with grey mares,<br />
seams stitched with mother love<br />
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In real time<br />
I'm a streak of colour<br />
in a driver's eye,<br />
a body bruised by steel and glass<br />
a pinafore pressed<br />
and never worn again<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span>© Susan Jane Sims</span></div><br />
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My childhood and teenage years were spent living behind a shop on a busy main road. One evening I crossed over the road to our local shop and got "knocked down by a car". I was dreaming as usual, thinking about the ice-cream sundaes that I had been asked to fetch as a treat for tea. The driver didn't see me. I have frequently dreamt about this incident and finally at Ty Newydd (The Writer's Centre in Wales)after an inspiration workshop with Penelope Shuttle I completed the poem.<br />
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<i></i>Many of the poems in this collection explore the manner of my mother's death and my feelings of guilt over her dying in hospital. I am moving on now. It has been two and a half years since she died. Now, more than I did, I value my inheritance. Where we lived was nothing special to look at from the outside. It wasw hat lay within that was important. For good or ill I will always carry around a part of my mother in my heart, in my mind and indeed in my physical appearance. I know that I will always be <i>Irene's Daughter.</i><br />
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Using my own poems for inspiration, together with some starting points from Susan Goldman Wooldridge's <i> Poem Crazy, </i>the Lapidus South West group and guests undertook some auto- biographical poetry themselves.<br />
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If you were there and want to share any of your writing please send it in. I would love to see it. The main thing is that it is for you though. Experiment.Enjoy.Let it heal you.<br />
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<i>The next Lapidus SW meeting will also be at The Pierian Centre on <b>Saturday March 26th</b> from 2.30 till 5pm. The speaker will be Lapidus member Julia Bush. Julia is a graduate of the Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes diploma in Bristol. She will talk about her work with the residents of a nursing home, writing down their life stories. Get there early if you would like to network and socialise first. A Georgian building in the heart of a vibrant city, The Pierian Centre is a lovely space to enjoy. They offer a lovely selection of teas and biscuits too. For information about any Lapidus SW events including our forthcoming Reflective Writing Day for General Practitioners and our Trauma Conference Day please contact swlapidus@yahoo.com</i><br />
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Best Wishes, Sue <br />
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</i>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-83463513637368472132011-01-13T10:00:00.001-08:002011-07-13T15:49:53.966-07:00All our love, thoughts to the victims of the Queensland FloodsPoetry Space sends our sincerest condolences to all the victims of the Queensland Floods in Australia.<br />
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We send our heartfelt wishes to all those affected that safety, peace and health will be restored in your lives quickly.<br />
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A regular contributor to our showcase, Heleena Yates has offered a poem as a reflection of her reaction to the horrific disasters.<br />
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<em>The floods in QLD - </em><br />
<em>Forces of natures force - </em><br />
<em>Are also manmade.</em><br />
<em>Man in Australia has greedily claimed</em><br />
<em>Acres of floodplains, natural swamps, l</em><em>arge areas of housing,</em><br />
<em>Disaster, awaiting to occur - and it has!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>The same is true, as <em>my brother explains</em></em><br />
<em>All along t</em><em>he coastal plains</em><br />
<em>Like Port Macquarie,</em><br />
<em>Prime virgin forest, mango swamps, over-farming and housing</em><br />
<em>Disasters, awating.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
(c) Heleena Yates<br />
Written by Heleena Yates, edited by Azadeh K Taj<br />
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Both Heleena and Azadeh are Australians living in London. Both believe man-made interference with the natural waterways is the instigating factor for the disaster.Azadeh K Tajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03914429655412928100noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-78719854236571278442011-01-05T09:24:00.000-08:002011-07-13T15:53:54.687-07:00January showcase online and new archive launchedWe are pleased to announce the launch of out first stunning <a href="http://www.poetryspace.co.uk/phdi/p1.nsf/supppages/3703?opendocument&part=4">showcase</a> of poetry for January 2011. <br />
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We have also now launched an <a href="http://poetryspacenews.blogspot.com/p/poetry-space-showcase-archive.html">archive</a> of prior monthly collections.<br />
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Thank you everyone for your support and watch out for all our exciting competitions, workshops and events this year.<br />
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May 2011 be a creative and joyous year for all.<br />
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Best wishes,<br />
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The Poetry Space Editorial TeamSusan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-11028555787142610972010-12-26T14:42:00.000-08:002011-07-13T15:54:46.175-07:00Christmas Poetry From Poetry Space (3 of 3)<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zOYlC5iacww/TRfC0keDNJI/AAAAAAAAACI/VsLtgEtM-XM/s1600/100_0616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zOYlC5iacww/TRfDy53DaAI/AAAAAAAAACM/HO9sSeODVKE/s1600/0912Railway+path+%252810%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zOYlC5iacww/TRfDy53DaAI/AAAAAAAAACM/HO9sSeODVKE/s320/0912Railway+path+%252810%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>Dear Miriam,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Just a line</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> to let you know how things</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">are with us & of course to</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">thank you (& your good man)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">for all you did for us - &</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">at your busiest time too</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">what with the census &</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">everything. I was quite</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">exhausted and the baby was</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">beginning to make himself</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">felt. If it hadn’t been</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">for all your help that night</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my baby might have died.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Good of you</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">to put up with all our</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">visitors – who’d have</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">thought, six scruffy</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">shepherds up & leaving</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">their sheep like that?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">& didn’t they ever smell?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Still they were good-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">hearted & they meant well.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hope they brought some</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">extra trade to the inn.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They looked in need of</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">a hot drink & a meal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> & what about</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">those kings, Miriam? Kneeling</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">there in their rich robes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">& all? & me in nothing but</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">my old blue dress! Joseph</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">said not to worry, it was</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus they’d come to see.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Real gentlemen <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they</i> were.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But what funny things to</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">give a baby – gold & myrrh</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">& frankincense. That’s men</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">all over! It wouldn’t cross</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">their minds to bring a shawl!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Sorry we left</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">so suddenly. No time for</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">good-byes with king Herod on</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the warpath! We had to take</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the long way home & I’m so </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">tired of looking at sand!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Joseph has picked up a few</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">jobs mending this & that so</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">we’re managing quite well.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jesus grows bonnier every </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">day & thrives on this way</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">of life, but I can’t wait</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">to see <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Nazareth</city></place> again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Love to all</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> at the inn,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Mary </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">© </span>Moira Andrew</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 180pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;">Frost</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cats sulk </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">in the crystal grass;</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">their mouths whiskered even more.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Exhaling air ties ribbons around atmosphere.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking back, I see houses in half-light;</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Halloween masks dwindling into miniatures.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shins of mobile masts stagger into distance.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abandoned cars have crept upon</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">each other, freezing into cold inertia.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">The drone of intense frost deafens the woods.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Snow strewn street lights wash pavements white.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">My skin turns silver, shimmering.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">In my bones something sleeping …</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">starts to wake.</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">© </span></span></span><strong>David R Morgan</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong>"Mistletoe muse"</strong><br />
In crystal twilight we sipped hot wine<br />
Took delight in unwrapping<br />
Top-to-toe<br />
I remember your lips<br />
Scarlet on snow<br />
Wrinkle in time<br />
- and afterglow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">© Azadeh K Taj</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 180pt; text-indent: 36pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 180pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
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</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-9149108325097510112010-12-25T11:13:00.000-08:002011-07-13T15:55:02.246-07:00Christmas Poetry From Poetry Space (2 of 3)I'LL GO FOR GOLD THIS YEAR, [I THOUGHT]<br />
FOR THE BAUBLES ON MY CHRISTMAS TREE,<br />
BUT THEN A TINY BOY IN A BALLOON MADE OF WOOD<br />
LOOKED UP AND CRIED, ''DONT FORGET ME!''<br />
TWO LITTLE MIRROR-BALLS, IN THE LIGHT ALL SHINY,<br />
ONE AT EACH SIDE THEN IF YOU MUST, BUT WHAT<br />
ABOUT THE ANGEL, A FANCY LITTLE DOLL,HER<br />
WINGS WITH A LIGHT FILM OF DUST,<br />
PUT HER ON THE TOP WHERE SHE LOVES TO BE,<br />
NOW YOU REALLY MUST HAVE LIGHTS ON A CHRISTMAS<br />
TREE, NOW THE ORNAMENTS YOU'VE LEFT<br />
ARE SUCH BEAUTIFUL HUES, RED, BLUE, OR<br />
PURPLE? OH I REALLY CAN'T CHOOSE,<br />
HANG THEM ON THE TREE, ONE COLOUR BE<br />
BLOWED! I'M OLD FASHIONED AT HEART,<br />
AND MY TREE......WELL IT GLOWED!<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">© Christine May Turner</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Winter’s Child</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You were winter’s child</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First breath, Christmas Day 1924</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hard edged, stoical,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> seasonal qualities</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> that helped you survive</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> traits hard to let go of</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">even when warm winds blew</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For that you had me, your sunny</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> summer baby, my mission in life</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> to make you smile.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">©Susan Jane Sims</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">THE FIRST OF ALL</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I honor the stars, moon and sun-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this smile,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The fire, ocean, and wind- </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this strength,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The seasons, times and years-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this wit,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The trees and barks as herbs-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this purification,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The chirps, neighs and moos-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this delight,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The rainbow, sky and manna-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this colorful wealth,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The apples, almond and grapes-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this oval eye… the sight of wine</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The piano, flute, and drums-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this orchestrated classical rhythms</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The rain, clouds and ice-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this condensed warmth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The end to my piece-</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is Christ… the very first of all.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">© Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah (Ghana)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-79832400760999122372010-12-24T11:55:00.000-08:002011-07-13T15:55:21.012-07:00Christmas Poetry From Poetry Space (1 0f 3)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zOYlC5iacww/TRT3Db3nJ9I/AAAAAAAAAB8/Yxtf541wOaM/s1600/card6image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zOYlC5iacww/TRT3Db3nJ9I/AAAAAAAAAB8/Yxtf541wOaM/s200/card6image.jpg" width="200" /></a><strong><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Christmas Poetry </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">from Poetry Space</span></strong><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">Read a selection each day over the Christmas period </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><strong>enough christmas</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">snow beats its feet upon december’s head</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">what santa drinks – i wish we knew the stuff </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">frost nips our toes – and turns them rudolph red</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the shops are dowsed in green – enough’s enough</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">we’re skidding on the ice – our knees are bruised</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">our hands are frozen digits in our gloves</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the season has us up for fools and used</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">the shops are dowsed in green – enough’s enough</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">and o for quiet – we sneak away our time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">we’ve hid the biscuits on the shelf above</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">another bite of chocolate – or wine?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">o - the shops are dowsed in green – enough’s enough</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">whatever are your plans – december late</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">when shops are dowsed in green – e s c a p e (escape)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The baby’s head is crowning</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Crowned with blood, with thorns</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Membrane breaks</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The temple curtain torn <br />
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</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Cries in the darkness<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My God, my God – </i></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Wrapped in swaddling bands</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">In winding cloths<br />
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</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Shepherds, sages worship</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 63pt;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Spectators heckle, mock<br />
</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Patient donkey waiting <br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cross upon its back</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN-US"> ©</span><span lang="EN-US"> Deborah Harvey</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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</div>Susan Jane Simshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02288997964411380551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-88937279677694868292010-12-09T11:31:00.000-08:002011-07-13T15:55:35.069-07:00Poetry meets art for tea<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oQ9427L2Iy8/TQEyHnopobI/AAAAAAAAAA4/dv22jS5hJ-s/s1600/Poetry%2Bmeets%2Bart%2Bover%2Ba%2Bcup%2Bof%2Btea.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548771322377118130" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oQ9427L2Iy8/TQEyHnopobI/AAAAAAAAAA4/dv22jS5hJ-s/s320/Poetry%2Bmeets%2Bart%2Bover%2Ba%2Bcup%2Bof%2Btea.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 282px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>Poetry Space in collaboration with <a href="http://www.corner9.com/">Corner 9 Art</a> presented a tea ceremony and poetry reading to open the gallery's Annual General Meeting. </div><br />
<div></div><br />
<div>As the kids got creative decorating biscuits, the adults sipped freshly brewed jasmine green tea, romantic rose buds and berry herbal <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bonheur</span> </em>infusion<em> </em>to set the poetic mood.</div><br />
<div></div><br />
<div>In <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">commemoration</span> with "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Shabeh</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Yalda</span>," an age-old Persian tradition celebrating the longest night of the year, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Azadeh</span> made a lucky dip of extracts from <em><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Neon-Love-Azadeh-K-Taj/dp/0956532810">Neon Love </a></em>for families to take away as inspiration to create their own unique poems.</div><br />
<div></div><br />
<div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Azadeh</span> then performed a selection of poems from <em>Neon Love</em> and from her upcoming new collection <em>Saffron Kisses.</em></div><br />
<div><em></em></div><br />
<div>To keep this wonderful fusion alive, Corner 9 Art and Poetry Space will be in collaboration in spring next year for a fabulous art-meets-poetry creative camp for children. Follow our blog for more details!</div>Azadeh K Tajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03914429655412928100noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142203722825595281.post-38235120605323250622010-12-09T08:57:00.000-08:002011-07-13T16:38:30.533-07:00Workshop works wonders!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oQ9427L2Iy8/TQEnoz1q0tI/AAAAAAAAAAw/n4u0__SyXBU/s1600/Writers%2Bworkshop.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548759797960725202" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oQ9427L2Iy8/TQEnoz1q0tI/AAAAAAAAAAw/n4u0__SyXBU/s320/Writers%2Bworkshop.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 250px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a>For the first time, Sue and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Azadeh</span> collaborated creative energies to run a joint writer's workshop at London's famous <a href="http://www.poetrysociety.org.uk/content/cafe/">Poetry Society Cafe</a> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Covent</span> Garden. <br />
<div></div><div></div><div>Our writers were greeted with Sue's relaxation exercise to pave the way to creative thinking. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Azadeh's</span> selection of fine teas also got the creative juices flowing.</div><div></div><div></div><div>Highlights of the event were:</div><div></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>New Year, New Poetry</strong></div><br />
Will 2011 be the year of poetry? In Chinese New Year tradition, writers created poems describing what year they would like 2011 to be for them. What arose was simply delightful.<br />
Particularly inspirational poems resulting from the workshop were "The Year of the Dancer" by poet Clare Waters and "The Year of the Unicorn" by Pauline <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sewards</span>.<br />
<em><span style="color: #663366;"><strong>The Year of the Dancer<br />
</strong></span></em><br />
<strong><span style="color: #333333;">Starting the year<br />
already half-emerged,<br />
a return to bodily form<br />
reviving past joys –<br />
music, dancing, friendships,<br />
...and seducing my<br />
long term silver mate.<br />
<br />
This year will be sweeter still,<br />
moving closer to the softer centre of my heart,<br />
<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">uncompromised</span> by others,<br />
by what they expect – or want<br />
from me.<br />
<br />
But one more wish -<br />
a resolution -<br />
to have time to waste,<br />
to while away...</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #333333;">(c) Clare Waters 2010</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #333333;"></span></strong><br />
<em><span style="color: #993399;"><strong>The Year of the Unicorn<br />
</strong></span></em><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><strong>I hear it coming,<br />
galloping tremble of hooves,<br />
riding swift and easy<br />
in the year of moving on,<br />
breaks out of hiding,<br />
dream hunting,<br />
in the year of love,<br />
sad single minded<br />
white gold rider<br />
speeds a chimera of wings<br />
work-a-day unicorns unified<br />
in a tessellation,<br />
force field, holding steadfast, holding steadfast, force field<br />
unifies a tessellation<br />
work-a-day unicorns<br />
speed a chimera of wings<br />
white gold riders<br />
single minded<br />
in the year of love<br />
dream hunting,<br />
break out of hiding<br />
in the year of moving on<br />
rides swift and easy<br />
galloping tremble of hooves<br />
I hear it coming.</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #333333;">(c) Pauline <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sewards</span> 2010</span></strong><br />
Many thanks to Cathy Wilson, from <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.lapidus.org.uk"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Lapidus</span> UK </a>and <a href="http://www.thewritingedge.co.uk/Poetry.htm">The Writing Edge</a>, for this brilliant idea.<br />
<strong>Creative Diet</strong><br />
In line with the upcoming poetic dining showcase on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ITV</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Azadeh</span> shared some treats to help nourish the poetic mind, body and soul. Writers enjoyed mineral-rich Persian dates, South-American <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Yakon</span> root extract and crunchy, protein-packed chick peas.<br />
<strong>Free form, polish and prime</strong><br />
Following Sue's free-form writing tips, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Azadeh</span> shared her top editing secrets to help polish and shape a work in progress. Writers went away with 5 golden rules to great writing along with their unique pieces of individual work to help continue the creative journey.<br />
<div></div><div><em>- "Thanks so much for the Winter Workshop. I really enjoyed it and find myself thinking over and over the new things I learned. Please tell <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Azadeh</span> that I have started making a delicious winter salad with some of the ingredients she recommended poetesses to eat! Almonds, dates, ginger... Very uplifting in this cold weather." - Clare Waters</em></div><div></div><div></div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><em>- "The workshop provided a safe and nurturing space for writers. Guided imagery from Sue to stimulate creativity led to ‘free fall’ writing which was shaped into more structured pieces. Supportive feedback was encouraged. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Azadeh</span>’s discussion on the ‘Artistic Diet’ alongside a lunch based on these principles was another highlight of a friendly and productive day." - Pauline <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Sewards</span></em></div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><em></em></div><div></div>Azadeh K Tajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03914429655412928100noreply@blogger.com1