poetry snapshots: oz hardwick

Good Morning America

They are showing CCTV

of a woman who binges in her sleep, peanut butter

straight from the tub – and we're talking a large tub –

when we cut to ads for Botox, anti-depressants,

America's power-packed super pill, Tom Cruise

live in the studio and fifty percent of pets

are overweight and two to three percent of Americans

will experience sleep violence at some time in their lives.



Good morning America, this could be the smallest woman

ever to have a baby, with cameras in the operating theater,

but first our lovable losers in Family Feuds,

forty seven percent say 'wrong' and the mad auntie

gets the laughs, loses points, goes home

a winner and we cut to ads. I leave for breakfast

on disposable plates amongst soldiers reading the news,

camouflaged, silent, trying not to think of percentages.

From The Illuminated Dreamer (Oversteps, 2010)

Oz Hardwick is a York-based writer, photographer and musician. He has published three well-received poetry collections, most recently The Illuminated Dreamer (Oversteps, 2010), as well as many individual poems, stories and articles in journals, magazines and anthologies. He has read his work in the UK, Europe and US, as well as on radio and television. As Paul Hardwick, Oz is Professor of English at Leeds Trinity University College, where he is Programme Leader for English and Writing and also teaches medieval literature. He has published widely on literature and art history, and his latest book is English Medieval Misericords: The Margins of Meaning (Boydell, 2011).

'The more one reads Hardwick’s poems the more they have to say… the nearer one approaches, the more they open up, the warmer the embrace’ – The Black Mountain Review.

poetry snapshots: chris kinsey

FLINT


(With a line

by Wallace Stevens.)



“And nothing need be explained,”

said the stone,

sea-spittle drying.



Not knapped,

nor chipped

to blade or arrowhead.



Not struck for sparks

nor saved for slingshot,

but fingered



out of a shingle bed

and cradled in a palm,

on a morning where gulls,



whiter than Sizewell’s vanishing globe,

nestle into footprints

the crunch has walked from.












Since winning an Arts Council of Wales bursary for new writing in 2000, Chris Kinsey has been a freelance writer, tutor, and rescuer of greyhounds. Her previous books are Kung Fu Lullabies and Cure for a crooked smile, both published by Ragged Raven Press. Swarf, published by Smokestack Books, will be launched on 15th September at the Oriel Davis Gallery.
Her stage play, Feathering the Dark, was shown at Aberystwyth Arts Centre and her short play, I and I, at Venue Cymru. She writes a regular Nature Diary for Cambria and occasionally for Natur Cymru. Chris has read at the Ledbury and Hay festivals, and her work has been featured on BBC Radio 4 and Radio Wales. She is currently Writer-in-residence at Oriel Davies Gallery.

poetry snapshots: pat jourdan

Strategy Sleeve-Notes



A whirr of plane

disturbs a summer night,

its pathway shadowing across

snazzy granite-topped kitchens,

streets bristling with white paint,

trim-paced black shiny railings.



Where is the poem about rendition?

Closed-door meetings,

masked movements above us,

hundreds quietly removed.

They fly above our expensive roofs

past the expanse of evening

that supports no regime

stalking the streets of London below.

We have the solace of pure cotton sheets

but even as we touch

the night is fucked.







This poem is taken from the new collection "Citizeness", Motet Press c/o patjourdan@eircom.net







Pat Jourdan was born in the centre of Liverpool, where she studied painting at the College of Art. Exhibitions of paintings and readings of poetry have been held in London, Norwich, Dublin and Galway. Winner of several poetry and short story awards in Ireland and England. She keeps on painting while finishing the next novel, (after “Finding Out”) with two collections of short stories and two poetry collections already published.

Websites : http://www.patjourdan.co.uk/ and http://www.patjourdan.net/

poetry snapshots: emma lee

Still Life with a static Matrix Screensaver



Only the dust and crumb-filled keyboard

and photo of a blonde toddler hint

at human life. Neat matt-black ring-binders,

stuffed with minutes and agendas,

line-up vertically like school children

who know today is not a day to distract teacher.

On a blank screen, green machine code hangs

like crimped string, each alphanumeric

glows slightly out of focus as if stuck

in a quantum state – simultaneously yes and no,

waiting to drop into decision.







Published in "Not a Muse", Haven Books.




Emma Lee’s stories and poems are widely published. Her poetry collection, “Yellow Torchlight and the Blues” is available from Original Plus (UK) and novel “Bitter Fame” via http://www.bitterfame.webs.com/. She blogs at http://emmalee1.wordpress.com./

poetry snapshots: sarah james

Unsubmerged

In Dominica, an earthquake cracked

Roger’s home like a walnut.

His wife’s omelette pan skipped off the stove,

their bed hopped the floor, chairs

pirouetted into shaking walls.

But cotted snug in a box for their breakfast –

half a dozen eggs, unbroken.





Visiting his mother in Grenada,

a hurricane peeled her house like an orange.

Winds stacked roofs, turned

tamarind trees into mops, uprooted

nutmeg plantations but left the glass

of his daughter’s portrait a smooth,

unrippled ocean.





Half-submerged in New Orleans, Roger’s shoes

walked in pairs on water. Tables arked,

chairs waded out the doors

and dead rats trailed the apartment stairs,

while his daughter’s dress

hung freshly pressed on her bedroom door:

dry and pink with flowers.





Sarah James



From ‘Into the Yell’ by Sarah James, published by Circaidy Gregory Press (http://www.circaidygregory.co.uk/ ), July 2010.



Sarah James is a prize-winning poet, fiction writer and journalist, who has been widely published in anthologies, literary journals and online.

She was shortlisted in Templar Poetry 2009 Pamphlet and Collection Competition, had two poems shortlisted in The Plough Prize 2009 and was joint winner of the Exmoor Society’s Poetry Competition 2010. Her website and blog is at http://www.sarah-james.co.uk./

poetry snapshots:paul tanner (tanner)

Chemicals




Hiding up in the stockroom with Tom

I took a bite out me apple

and I turned to him and concluded

‘This apple be very appley!’



he said that was good.



And then I went off on one

about how computers

and cars

and even pens

never bloody work,

that nothing manmade

does what it’s meant to



but look here,

this natural product

free from the mother earth

is bang on the money ...



then I remembered

that everything is owned

and you can’t simply

go up to a fucking god-given tree

and take an apple off it

without getting

a shotgun salt pellet up your arse

and a fine and a jail sentence

cos you dared to sample

what is essentially a plant

that was given to us

by the fucking natural world

ferchrisake



and then I was all pissed off again.




'Congealed Anfield '84. Once for the money, twice for the love. I peer out grids and get the low-down on this society effort you're all making. Tis somewhat shite to be brutally honest, squire. If you kill the head the body will die. NATIONAL SERVICE FOR ALL TEBBITS. Fin.'

http://www.facebook.com/pages/TANNER/138229396199355?ref=sgm

Joanna's note: Tanner's poems have been published in a variety of magazines. He wrote 'Chemicals' especially for Poetry Snapshots.

poetry snapshots; ken champion

Forties Noir



It’s the lighting; a beach hut’s sculpted shadows,

a white face pushing from a darkened porch,

Mitchum in Acapulco heat, slatted light


across his jacket, Greer walking in against the

sun, a Mexican Dietrich strolling a highway,

headlights stroking her back before she becomes

night, the palms, fedoras, wise guys, bars;


the evening park, a tram’s Nighthawks figures,

kids playing floodlit footie round a lamppost,

the hall glow through the fanlight, lincrusta,


dad’s torch searching the cellar for the nail jar,

Aunt Flo upstairs hoping I’ll pencil a seam

down the back of her painted legs while


Uncle Harry’s away, her face under mine,

garish, by the cheap bedside lamp.

A pencilled line simulated real stockings.

Published in MAGMA 46, 2010.

Ken Champion is an internationally published poet whose work has appeared in over a hundred magazines and anthologies, including Rialto, Smiths Knoll, Magma, African American Review and Iodine Poetry Journal. He has two pamphlets, African Time (2002) and Cameo Poly (2004) published by Tall Lighthouse and a full collection, But Black And White Is Better (2008). He has also had fiction published in literary journals in the UK and USA. Ken reads in London and elsewhere and hosts More Poetry at Borough Market. He runs poetry workshops and is Reviews Editor for Tall Lighthouse. A selection of his poems can be found at The Poetry Library and at http://www.kenchampion.org.uk/

Born in London’s east end, Ken lectures in sociology and philosophy, and has worked as a decorator, sign writer, mural painter and commercial artist. He lives in London and has three sons.



poetry snapshots: frances white

Piano Bar Blues


Dizzy summer night

quenched with lager


her eyes dreamy

with piano bar blues


moving aside their empty glasses

his arm brushed hers


low lighting and soft cushions

made her head swim


they slipped away

into the moonlight


music fading

as they sauntered back


under the larch trees

along the water


his hands in his pockets

all the way home.




© Frances White

Published in:
‘AWAY WITH WORDS, An Anthology of Poetry’
(Aeronwy Thomas, Beryl Myers, Annie Taylor, Frances White),
Poetry Monthly Press, 2007, ISBN 978-1-906357-01-6



Frances White’s poems and artwork have been published in magazines and anthologies.
Thirty of her poems were published in ‘AWAY WITH WORDS, An Anthology of Poetry’ (Poetry Monthly Press 2007), which she co-authored with the late Aeronwy Thomas.
Her poems have won first prizes in three local competitions and she received a Highly-Commended nomination in the Torbay Open Poetry Competition, 2010.
Frances lives in South West London and has read as a guest poet at poetry venues and festivals in London and Wales. She is working towards her first collection.

poetry p f pages http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/franceswhitepage.shtml
Second Light Live Members’ Page http://www.secondlightlive.co.uk/members/franceswhite.shtml

poetry snapshots: mavis gulliver

Breaking Dormancy



Time passed and I forgot

the envelope labelled in your precise hand,

‘Welsh Poppy seeds from my garden…for yours.’

Forgot the fine dust filtering through my fingers,

settling on stubborn soil.



Three years on, the ache of your death

has dulled…a little.

I have learned to speak of you without weeping.



Now you are back, you…and your poppies.

Pendulous buds expanding, shaking out their creases,

opening bright as suns,

spilling yellow petals

seeds

memories.



published in Envoi, Issue 146, 2007




Mavis says: I came to poetry relatively late in life and have Joanna to thank for her excellent constructive criticism on the OCA Course in 2006. I write mainly about nature, landscape, islands, family and memories - linking the different aspects together wherever possible.

poetry snapshots: anne stewart

Winter Loving



“Let us have winter loving that the heart

May be in peace and ready to partake

Of the slow pleasure spring would wish to hurry

… ” Elizabeth Jennings Winter Love





She lies awake listening to the storm.

It breaks in through open transom lights;

runs riot through the house, a vandal gouging

pristine walls. Bringing the outside in.



She hears the garden’s talk, thin as thorns

scratching glass, alpines clinging for dear life,

plastic chairs sitting themselves down hard.

And you lie close. Boats in safe harbour.



She tries to listen better, strains to hear

the scrape of firs digging in their heels

against the gale, but you snore too loudly,

content with life just lapping at your sides.



Thugs of rain shout and batter at the window

as though they’d come to sort you out. Listen!

Listen to the whale-song of the trees as they

wallow in it. See how they shake their fists.



Anne Stewart

shortlisted in the Frogmore Poetry Competition, 2007 and published in The Frogmore Papers, No. 70, Autumn 2007;


published in Flarestack Poetry anthology, Mr Barton Isn’t Paying, 2009;

included in collection, The Janus Hour, Oversteps Books, 2010 (http://www.overstepsbooks.com/, ISBN 978-1-906856-16-8)


Founder of the poet-showcase site, www.poetrypf.co.uk, Anne Stewart is administrator for Second Light Network and co-edited several issues of ARTEMISpoetry. She was awarded MA(Dist) in Creative Writing from Sheffield Hallam University in 2003 and won the Bridport Prize in 2008. The Janus Hour (Oversteps Books, 2010) is her first collection.

http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/ http://www.secondlightlive.co.uk/

http://www.secondlightlive.co.uk/artemis.shtml http://www.overstepsbooks.com/

poetry snapshots: adrian green

Business Breakfast

On a blue September dawn

the tide ebbs under London Bridge.

We walk across – a crowd

alive but hypnotised.

So many left undead

for croissants and a cappuccino.

And in the knowing,

unknowing,

and knowing again

of things we never

thought would matter,

breakfast sages

read our fortunes

in the coffee spoons,

project their fantasies

on office walls.

Later, on the Circle Line,

the salesmen with their laptops

watch a couple sharing sushi

from a plastic box.

Adrian Green

Previously published in Well Versed, poems from the Morning Star (Hearing Eye, ISBN 978-1-905082-42-1)

and Chorus and Coda (Littoral Press, ISBN 978-0-9550926-7-1).

About Adrian Green:
Adrian Green lives overlooking the sea at Southend. A former editor of SOL and reviews editor of Littoral, poems and reviews have appeared in several magazines and anthologies. His current collection, Chorus and Coda (ISBN 978-0955092671), is available from the Littoral Press.
See more at http://www.greenad.co.uk/ or listen at http://www.myspace.com/chorusandcoda

poetry snapshots: camilla reeve

The Long Journey of Humans

How old was I last night?
In the darkness and quiet
of my own back garden,
I looked up at a sky, deep indigo,
brushed with clouds of grey,
uplit apricot from the city,
and I felt so young.

The long journey of humans
stretched far ahead of me,
full of promise and wonder.
The eyes of unnamed stars
peered down between each cloud,
as strangers, hoped-for friends,
glance from the corner of a rock
and make a new land homely.

Standing there, I heard nothing
but wind riffling my hair,
rain dripping from leaves
the muffled stealth of paws
as a hunting cat passed by.

Now that the everyday
with its well-worn streets
and crowded timetables
is round me, I might be feeling
as old as humanity, as stale.
But I discovered in my mind
and smiling, the little girl
who stood in the dark.

She is still full of wonder
and delight, still looking out
and up and round her
at the enchanting and unknown,
where the return of daylight
has not this time achieved
the death of promise
or the end of mystery.

from collection, "Travels of a Spider",2006. ISBN 978-0-9556770-0-7, published through lulu.com.

Camilla says: Born too late to make sense of the last century I’m focusing on enjoying this one, by novel-writing, poetry and performance, a computer career, back-packing travel and chaotic attempts to transform my garden into a fertile wilderness. I’ve published two poetry collections and a third is underway, details at writing-with-anger-and-love.co.uk

poetry snapshots: michael wyndham

Know Your Enemy

The glitterball orbits the ballroom conjuring a flux
of nylon swing. Her calves twist, her Grable heels kick
out the fear of telegrams from the front line.

Chicago knights and New York zoots strut before
the White City girl like competing matadors; she slides
down a pageant of olive and khaki -

No rations tonight baby!

Blakeys clack-clack, club tie strides, a Brylcreem Moses
parts the dance floor, bringing down the tablets from
the judges' mountain. A tidy finger taps

the swinging shoulder of the GI -

"Strictly ballroom here laddie"





Michael Wyndham
"Know Your Enemy" was first runner-up in the 2006 Frogmore Press poetry prize and was included in the autumn 2006 issue. In June 2008, South Bank poetry magazine published 'Know Your Enemy' alongside other poems themed on London's past.

Michael says: I have been writing and performing poetry since May 2005. This poetic calling came to me while massacring London's insects and vermin during my former day job as a pest controller.

poetry snapshots: gill learner

A worm updates itself

Never mind the Tree of Knowledge:
I'd sooner get my teeth into a book, or
better still a row - complete works
from long ago, not bleached or sized.
Give me the tender wrap of calves shaved thin,
a volume in a warm damp room, its spine
relaxed in fishy corrugations. I've delved
into the great minds of the past, chewed over
their hypotheses, digested fantasies
and left behind a dust sucked dry of thought.

But things are harder now: I crack
my head on plastic, slip on silicon.
Yet I'll survive - I found a way
to tunnel the soft underside of 0 and 1.


Published January 2009 in Acumen 63.

Gill Learner lives in Reading and began writing poetry in 2001. She loves reading to an audience, has been published widely and was awarded the Poetry Society's Hamish Canham Prize 2008. Her first collection, The agister's experiment, is forthcoming from Two Rivers Press.

http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/gilllearnerpage.shtml

poetry snapshots: angela france

Skin-deep

She looks in her mirror,

turns slowly and twists

to see over her shoulder.

She can number the marks,

scars of surgery and childbirth.

She peels back her lips,

admires the close fit

of her gums, her sinuous tongue.

She pulls further back.

She loosens her chin, her ears,

shakes her head back

to slip off her scalp.

The rest is easier: a sharp shrug

to free her shoulders, a stroke

down her upper arms.

Pulling the tips of each finger

in turn, she smiles, thinks of gloves,

Audrey Hepburn. She hulas

her hips clear of cellulite,

points her toes to slide off

dimpled stockings, steps free.

She palms over the perfect dome

of her head, strokes muscles

as they move and stretch,

feels her sculpted cheek.

She stands before her mirror,

watches winks of light reflect

from loops of bowel, counts

her heartbeats, her lungs' billow.

She can't help grinning.

Published in 'Occupation', Ragged Raven Press, 2009.

Angela France has had poems published in many of the leading journals, in the UK and abroad. Her second collection, 'Occupation' is available from Ragged Raven Press.

Angela is features editor of Iota and an editor of ezine The Shit Creek Review. She also runs a monthly poetry cafe, 'Buzzwords'.

http://www.poetrypf.co.uk/angelafrancepage.html

http://angelafrance.blogspot.com/

poetry snapshots: anne welsh

Stigmata
after Annette Messager's Story of Dresses

I am corseted in seal-bone to fit into this dress of ugly taffeta.
Inside my glass coffin I smell his skin beneath my fingernails,
the salt of my own body, the paint from the wall on which I hang.

It is cold here in the gallery, colder than the East Coast Scottish winter
and I am visible but not visible like hoarfrost on a morning fresh with snow.
You sound out the word in French that he pinned upon me:

P-R-O-M-E-S-S-E

and something in your harsh southern vowels breaks both glass and spell.
A slow bleed falls from my right wrist onto the paper, blotting out
his promissory note.

I hold my hand out to you, not knowing if you'll take it;

if this twin ache in my ribcage is from twenty years' seal-bone-too-tight-binding
or something ice inside it that your star-hard voice may also melt or shatter.


Photo: Naomi Woddis http://www.flickr.com/photos/naomiwoddis/collections/72157622849627811/

Anne Welsh’s work has appeared in journals including Poetry News, Agenda Broadsheet and English and is forthcoming on http://www.tate.org.uk as part of its Bigger Picture project and in the Tate Poetry from Art anthology (launch event 25/09/2010 Tate Modern). She posts weekly writing prompts at http://annewelsh.tumblr.com and blogs at http://annewelsh.wordpress.com About the publication: Stigmata was first published in Seeking Refuge, edited by Jan Fortune-Wood (Cinnamon Press, 2010), in support of the London Cold Weather Shelters. This is one of a series of anthologies to grow out of Ruth O'Callaghan's events at Lumen and Camden which bring together well-known poets and those just starting out.