National Poetry Day 2018 is on Thursday 4th October 2018 and the theme this year is ‘Change’.
Expect an explosion of activity nationwide, thousands of amazing events across the UK – in schools, libraries, bookshops and hospitals, on buses, trains and boats – all celebrating poetry’s power to bring people together. Just look at our events listing to see what’s happening near you.
Andover Radio’s Poet Laureate Daniel Hooks (“The Alien Poet”) is asking budding poets from around Andover to take part. “I would love to hear from people who want to get their poems broadcast.
“Poets will be given the chance to submit poems for broadcast on Andover Radio.
“We will broadcast one poem every hour during National Poetry Day”.
Poems should ideally be 40 seconds long when reading out loud and they must have the theme of ‘Change’. Poets are welcome to come to the Andover Radio studios on Andover High Street to record their works.
For further information or to submit a poem please send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org
To provide you with plenty of airport lounge reading we’ve saved up two Echos for your delectation:
Poetika Echo 56 – 20 June 2018
Brought to you by Alison Craig
Theme UN Declaration of Human Rights, 1948
Hosted by John Bruce
Nicky Michelle Harris gave us a precis of the Declaration and its 30 articles, then read the stunning poem by Maya Angelou, I Rise:
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Then WH Auden’s Refugee Blues:
Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors;
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.
Ria reflected on migrant refugees in dire marine straits: Your legs buckle like a tired horse …. And – packed like sardines: Is all this water one long cemetery? Perhaps the sea is the only place that will take you.
Then from Rupi Kaur, a love letter to the world: I will carry you to freedom.
John B: written after the Peterloo massacre in Manchester:
Ye who suffer woes untold
With folded arms and steady eye
Rise like lions after slumber …
Ye are many, they are few.
Vic described getting caught in front of an English Defence League march – the police evacuated them through a shop.
I’m a judge, I’m a jury
I’ve already found you guilty, don’t you know.
You’ve already lost the trial.
But the problem is …
You’re the judge, you’re the jury
And it seems I have lost the trial.
David R read W H Auden’s The Shield of Achilles 1952
Tianna read Disrespect:
I’ll put on my big girl smile
While your demon children demand toys
We haven’t got.
Lying in bed wishing I was anyone but me
… Too rich to live in, too poor to move out
This is my fifteen minutes to dream
Of a better life.
… My rights which you apparently don’t receive
With your badge and your hat.
Susie talked of the human right to speak out, the human right to be looked after, and how they surprised the children to whom she taught the UN Declaration.
Then she read us a poem about the mixed blessing of owning the dream swimming pool:
Day by day it eyed me reproachfully: come and swim!
…But it’s raining!
That shouldn’t stop you – I’m wet already!
… Some dreams are over-rated.
Susie’s eldest daughter Amber lives in Madrid. Her friend lives in Tehran. They go to visit her.
Bright juices, ancient pastries,
Tehran so polluted.
Friends from Madrid, so different here.
Her lively girlfriend from Madrid submissive, almost fauning.
… Child-like, compliant, trammelled, returning to value the openness of her life in the west, counting her freedoms.
You’ll have to believe in it – it’s just so ingenious.
Edwin read a poem about refugees ‘crawling from the ocean …
Darling could you rub my back with suntan lotion?’
Nicky again, saying she was so nervous she was imagining us all naked!
Describing how fascism is on the rise again, she read her poem Filling Your Boots:
Neoliberalism Trumps Egalitarianism
Fascism is the new fashion darling
There’s only so many times you can eat your own shit
Before you die of your own poison
They’re eating from their own Brexit exit
Love, peace and altruism always flies higher
Humanity always wins.
Then a quick vote to decide July’s theme. Sex and sexuality won over Summer, and Innocence!
John B read his poem complicit – things happen because people let them.
How do you let someone know
Your vulnerability has become your personality
Love … the kind you feel in your soul, your gut
…Still fumbling for the right words
The kind that make your bones crack
… You can’t carry all this weight on your shoulders.
Anna, on behalf of her friend Pete
The windows are open but closed
As she sets sail with him
… Smudging the beads of moisture
Along her lip
… Seals stacked up on the shore
And your hair is like a hairnet to catch the sun.
Ross gave us Byron’s suggested epitaph for Lord Castlereagh:
Posterity will ne’er survey
a Nobler grave than this:
Here lie the bones of Castlereagh:
Stop, traveller, and p—– !
A country needs a resource
We’ve fallen back on artists
Surely we have enough misery
To produce a crop of those?
Alison read Carol Ann Duffy’s Last Post:
There’s coffee in the square,
warm French bread
and all those thousands dead
are shaking dried mud from their hair
and queuing up for home. Freshly alive,
a lad plays Tipperary to the crowd, released
from History; the glistening, healthy horses fit for heroes, kings.
You lean against a wall,
your several million lives still possible
and crammed with love, work, children, talent, English beer, good food.
You see the poet tuck away his pocket-book and smile.
If poetry could truly tell it backwards,
then it would.
The opening – first chapter of the Koran
Refugee man of Syria
You stake out our fear of your crescent-shaped moon
In the name of God the Compassionate
Just you being here
Opens the Other in us.
Cat read a poem about how our opinions are manipulated.
Traffic light system we know like the back of our hand.
As we sit on the M4 in a traffic jam
Discussing the price of ham.
Mike read 3 sonnets
Using pain as an argument
To fix your reasoning
… Make them see you
When they look in the mirror
Right is the thing that everyone has wrong
When they try to take away
Not a right they have
But a wrong they choose to do
Since it is true, whatever they may say,
We are a whole
And suffer as one.
I scrape orange peel on my cereal
And click a card to someone in goal.
Teach me to use what little power I have
To save the less lucky from prison and grave.
Anna’s Words and Soldiers
Drifting down the empty street
Flooding into dead men’s feet.
To a friend
I know they told you no
I know they said you’re wrong
One day we’ll dance away
And not listen to a word they say.
Ian’s poem on protest:
Why are humans obsessed
With owning the best?
… Dare to protest.
… The words like bullets from a gun.
Silence allows the haters to win.
Ria’s Cat’s Cradle
Basking in those days
When the heat went misty then clear.
Then a poem about a wedding in India.
… The endless hall
Of force-feeding feast and the famine.
Vic sang Lost in Translation:
I thank God I am a citizen of heaven.
Ross read the Wandering Jews, first read ‘when Syrians started washing up on shores … the scientific detachment better known as indifference.’
Nicky again – for Connie and Sheila
You’ll be lucky in love
If your head rules your heart
But do the right thing
And wear a condom!
And what her mother used to say …
And that concluded Poetika 56
Poetika Echo 57 – 18th July 2018
A vague reminiscence by John Bruce
Theme: Sex, Sexuality and Gender
Hosted by Ria Rylatt-Chandaman
I haven’t done one of these in a while and it’s a privilege to bring you a taste of our July meeting:
It was myself that started by mentioning the George Herbert talk on 7th August – details here http://www.georgeherbert.
Alison was the first to read with her first ever sonnet, Elan Vitale (now featured on poetika.org.uk – if you want to feature your works here please get in touch). Following her velvet stallion’s back, Grace lived a whole life in less than two months (you fucking whore) and David banged on about ships in the night, somewhere between the belly and the brain…
After kissing your shoulder, kissing your thighs, Edwin was holding your boobs, Tianna told her story of self-discovery, and said ‘No’. Kira told us about a girl who has flowers blooming in her ribcage, and Nicky pointed out that sex was more trouble than it’s worth.
Cat and Mike reminded us of the Colourful Adventures of Merciful Grace (Sat 4th August details here), before I (that’s me – John!) started apart and moaned about Monet and Ria gasped like wasps and bees (and bruised easily, like an ego).
Ian started our second half by talking about sex, baby, then Mike explained he’d rather receive a gift than possess. Anna, a sexy lady, was feeling confident, before Ross warned us that when life becomes subhuman, subhumans come alive…
Peter reflected that the wind and water were as soft as milk, before Nicky returned, asking if we wrote from our own sexuality. For Grace, the day she stopped loving him was no different from any other day, and David R had a second chance to warn us your kiss stings sharp and sweet.
Tiana stretched each syllable within an inch of its life before Cat dreamt of dog days that will burn and burn (topical!). Kira whispered how quietly the earth will mention your name, then it was Game On for Ria.
This was a fabulous Poetika with some really strong poems – a new wave of attendees has invigorated our existing members – everyone – keep up the good work!!
We have a break in August and will be back on Wednesday 19th September – meanwhile we’re looking for suggestions for our September theme/prompt – if you have any ideas, please reply to this newsletter or comment on Facebook.
Have a great summer!
When we asked you to decide on this month’s theme, we were mildly surprised that last month’s audience were unanimously in favour of SEX…
OK that’s a great soundbite, but the real topic – sex, sexuality and gender – is a perfect prompt for a range of work and styles – the world we know is created by ourselves, and we are created by… sex, sexuality and gender… so the world is your oyster for inspiration.
So bring along your new work or previous work on this theme – or any theme – and we’ll be delighted to hear your contributions as sexy or prudish as you like – we’re artists, so no holds barred!
Because of the theme we’ve chosen our sexiest member, Ria to host – so come along on Wednesday 18th July, 7.30 for 7.45, upstairs at The Pheasant, Salt lane, Salisbury. We ask a contribution of £2-3pp please towards expenses.
As usual we welcome everyone who wants to read or sing their own work or that of others as well as those people who prefer only to listen.
We here at Big Up Words are excited because The Teapoets Cafe is returning September 10th.
Co founder Cat Randle gets very excited. “I look forward to meeting up with all the poet’s and finding out what they’ve done on their summer break.”
Here they are in their own words
To kick off our new season, we look forward to welcoming guest poet Peter Roe, and singer-songwriter Lisa Thorne.
We welcome one and all who enjoy poetry (either as audience or readers). Come along and have some listening fun, and maybe introduce a friend to the joys of the spoken word too. A warm welcome awaits.
Rum’s Eg gallery and cafe are open throughout.
Spoken word open spots may be booked in advance by sending an email to email@example.com and we will keep some in reserve on the door.
About the guest-Peter Roe guest poet
Peter Roe was born and raised a ‘Northern Lad’ in Buxton in the Peak District. He has served in the RAF and has worked with computers and emerging technologies in education.
Peter is a poet, writer, film-maker and self confessed Nerd who likes to shatter people’s pre and misconceptions about “Computer Geeks and Anoraks!”
Peter’s poems and stories come out of that bit of the world where technology meets people and have been well received at public readings both in the South West of England and The Netherlands where he was dubbed ‘The Techno-Poet’. As the Millennium ticked over he became embroiled in a Poetry War with his Father and his Siblings… as the words flew it created a schism within the family. ‘The War of The Words’ that followed was a breeding ground for many of his performance pieces.
Forced into early retirement with only a dictionary and a smartphone for company… He remains an eternal optimist and describes himself as “Disabled by Bread… Soft int’ head… Dad of Three… Addicted to Eye Tee… Poet and Writer… App Game Fighter…”
He is constantly rhyming and punning and is currently working on ‘Reunification’ a poetry event with his Brother to be premiered at The Buxton Fringe in 2018.
Musical guest-Lisa Thorne
|Lisa Thorne has never looked back since her uncle introduced her to the music of Steeleye Span when she was a child. Working with an intuitive style, she refines songs until they ‘fit’ the images in her mind.
She is particularly interested in the narrative of the voice, using words to pin down a point of that narrative, rather then to express or describe.
“Folk is certainly an influence,” explains Lisa, “as I adore the melody lines, harmonies, and rhythms.” We are delighted to introduce Lisa to the TeaPoet Collective as we feel her songs deserve wider exposure, and we’re sure you will agree.
And finally news about becoming a member of Teapoets
Our membership cards for the next season will be available when we return to Rum’s Eg on Sunday 10th September. For £30 you will get:
Open Words Arnudels (Ted Health’s house) SP1 2EN Cathedral Close Salisbury June 11th starting at 1.30-4.30
Yes Open Word is back with 2 dates and loads of fun. We start this weekend at Arundels. This is our first event in a garden. Bring picnic blankets, chairs and lots of poetry. We will be having an open Mic so looking forward to your poems.
Poetry guest Paul Canon Harris
With special guest MC
Hare Today Story club, Thursday, 13th October,7.45-10 pm in The Snug,The Lunar Hare, Weyhill Road,AndoverAdmission Free
Come and listen, come and tell
Run by Mike Rogers
Story, story! Who wants to hear a story? Everyone, of course.
“Once upon a time…”
“Come on! That’s just for kids!”
“All right – last Tuesday – ”
“… in a galaxy far, far away…”
Stories are stories, they pick us up and they take us away, sometimes into other worlds, sometimes inside ourselves, to places we’ve never been or didn’t know were there. They bring us face to face with new things and with old things, and often the old things turn out to be new things, because we’re looking at them from another side.
Reading is good. You can do it anywhere, anytime, if there’s enough light to see. It disturbs no one. But it is a solitary vice.
Listening to a story, on the other hand, is something social. There is an interaction with the teller – they notice the reaction of you, the listener, and they can adjust their story to it. Actors on a stage, in a normal play, would find that much harder. They usually have a text to stick to. A storyteller only has a story – and they can tell it in the way they feel like at that very moment. What occurs to them – what occurs to you – it can all find a place in that story.
I have been telling stories for fourteen years. I have been writing stories since I was eight, and when I first came to Southampton Story Club I used to read aloud the stories I had written. I had written them to sound as though they were being told, so they had digressions and interruptions and spaces for audience reaction. Sometimes I still like to perform my stories that way, because a written story can be a lot more precise and complicated and detailed than a told one – it’s the relationship between lace and knitting. But mostly I tell.
What do I tell? Stories I like. Stories that go into me easily, because they fit my nature. I tell Greek myths. I tell Norse myths. I tell wonder-tales from Russia, with the Firebird in them. I tell stories from Japan, sad ones and happy ones. I tell classic folktales from Europe, as written by Perrault or collected by the Brothers Grimm. [I can tell stories in French and German as well.] I tell Jewish stories. I tell stories from Afghanistan and stories from the Arabian Nights.
I also tell stories that are true, if they have the right shape and feel. I have told the story of the first maypole in New England, at Merrymount, and the trouble it caused among the devout New Englanders. I have told the story of George Vancouver and his conflict with Thomas Pitt, second Baron Camelford, and compared it with the behaviour of Maquinna, the chief of one of the tribes on Nootka Sound, which Vancouver explored and mapped. I have told the story of ‘Don Patricio’, the Irish international footballer and football manager, who saved Barcelona FC in the Spanish Civil War. I have told the story of Grayson Perry’s tapestry sequence, The Vanity of Small Differences.
There are stories everywhere. We make them up all the time. We change them and they change us. They are one of the ways in which we try to come to terms with the world.
I am always telling the same stories, and I am always hunting for new ones, and I am always thinking about how I can tell the old ones differently. I can also help people to tell stories – stories about themselves, about their lives up to now, about the way they would like their lives to be in the future. Imagination is the key to freedom – in the inner world and in the outer one.