Heather Moulson

As I was going to St Ives

Hello Poetry Lovers

We all know ‘As I was going to St Ives..’. They call this traditional piece a nursery rhyme but I would say this was a riddle. I do remember it catching me out. A simple question, yet not. A very intriguing piece of writing.

Inspired by my lovely pal Trisha Broomfield’s recent trip to St Ives, I couldn’t resist featuring and illustrating this piece, especially with cats involved. Although it seems cruel they’re in a sack with their kitties, so I’ve put them in a shopping trolley. Presumably they weren’t big on animal welfare then.

And seven wives?! Isn’t that bigamy?! Did anyone report this man to the Police?! Believe that’s a very serious charge!

As I was going to St. Ives,

I met a man with seven wives,

Each wife had seven sacks,

Each sack had seven cats,

Each cat had seven kits:

Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,

How many were there going to St Ives?

Well, I’m not sure in this case whether the old ones are really the best but I hope you enjoyed that riddle. Answers on a postcard please to the usual address….

This is a better route to St Ives! Very wise cat there.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon….

Barbara Brownskirt

Hello Poetry Lovers

Yes, you heard right! Once again, we had the delight of Barbara Brownskirt. This time at The Phoenix Arts Centre in Tottenham Court Road.

And I had the wonderful Sharron Green with me, who became an instant convert to this hallowed cagoule wearing genius. Plus her lovely pal Tracey Collins aka Elvis Lesley. Adore her as Audrey Heartburn too!

Even better, after this explosive show, Sharron penned this fabulous poem to our heroine(s). Sums up our great experience of last night. Do read on …

Barbara Brownskirt

last night we had a super time
at Barbara Brownskirt’s show
the poetry was just sublime
and she was in full flow

the Phoenix Art Club’s really cool,
a ritzy glitzy place
as Barbara stood in her cagoule
a frown lit up her face

the men-oh-pause was mentioned lots,
the menace of men-spreading,
for Judi Dench she has the hots,
she’d love a bus stop wedding

when Elvis Lesley, dressed in white,
gyrated and bedazzled
her lyrics were pure dynamite
she left the building frazzled

our time together was too short
the laughs it gave us plenty
clutching the gift pack Heather bought
I dreamt of SE20.

Wasn’t that a fantastic piece! Thank you so much, Sharron. So witty and really told it all!

Our next mission is get to Barbara’s bus stop to protest against it being sanitised! As you can see above, Sharron is holding one of the limited edition packs of Barbara’s two collections plus a badge and one of Barbara’s pop socks. If I was her, I’d get that insured!

The Phoenix Arts Centre is a terrific cabaret venue and I would thoroughly recommend a night out there. Full of wine, margaritas and admiration for Ms Brownskirt, we went happily back to Waterloo.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…..

Sat Navigated

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we are tackling that bane of our existence, The Sat Nav. Derided yet so necessary – or is it?! Did we throw away our A-Zs and maps too soon?! I remember trying to get round Central London with one of those things. Nearly got out and walked! Only I couldn’t!

Clever poet Sharron Green has bravely taken this sometimes baffling system on with hilarious and stressful results! We feel her frustration all the way in this wonderful piece. Read on

I’m Sat-Naive

I have a trusty Sat Nav

and mostly it’s ok,

but there’s no excuse

for the wild goose

it made me chase Monday.

We set off from South London –

a trip I’ve done before

but the Sat route

just did not shoot

down to the Sussex shore.

Instead of speedy motorway

the A roads switched to B,

down country lanes

with unknown names –

one hour stretched to three!

My brother was so patient,

he didn’t like to say

“You have a choice –

switch off her voice –

you know the bloody way!”

@rhymes_n_roses

Wasn’t that such a great piece?! And so so true! We are literally in the Sat Nav’s hands! Thank you so much, Sharron. Please keep them coming!

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry capers real soon…..

My Undoing ….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today’s poetry prompt has been the term ‘Un’ . Understanding there are endless possibilities with this when you think about it. I’ve made this piece a bit bitter sweet. I hope you like it

Unfulfilled

Undoing my shoes

Undressing at night alone

Understated underwear

Ungainly half-slips

Unwashed knickers

Unmade up face

Unfit for purpose

Undercooking the supper

In an unoiled pan

Understanding – or not –

That you’re working late

Unscheduled of course

Unplanned but unfortunately

undone

I don’t unpack my bags this time

I write you an underscored email

And undo the front door

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. I hope you weren’t underwhelmed by this word exercise. I look forward to hearing your own particular uninhibited pieces on this exercise.

We’ll be back with more poetry adventures real soon…

Walter de la Mare Corner

Hello Poetry Lovers

Yes, I stumbled upon Walter de la Mare’s collection Secret Laughter the other night.

Published in 1969, it inevitably brought back memories of childhood, and reading his poems at school. As we know, any education is wasted on the young and I enjoyed reading them a lot more now.

I’ve chosen and illustrated two pieces – the first one’s a bit unnerving (but couldn’t resist!) and the second one, as you will see, is very close to our hearts.

Some One

Some one came knocking

At my wee small door;

Some one came knocking,

I’m sure – sure – sure;

I listened, I opened,

I looked to left and right,

But nought there was a-stirring

In the still dark night;

Only the busy beetle

Tap-tapping in the wall,

Only from the forest

The screech-owl’s call,

Only the cricket whistling

While the dewdrops fall,

So I know not who came knocking,

At all, at all, at all.

Puss

Puss loves man’s winter fire

Now that the sun so soon

Leaves the hours cold it warmed

In burning June.

She purrs full length before

The heaped-up hissing blaze,

Drowsy in slumber down

Her head she lays.

While he with whom she dwells

Sits snug in his inglenook,

Stretches his legs to the flames

And reads his book.

Walter de la Mare 1969

As you saw, PL’s, I altered the human to a cat in the illustration of the last piece. Much more fun.

I hope you enjoyed these two pieces. I loved the loneliness of the first piece and the tenderness of the second. I hope you found that so too.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. I hope I’ve evoked some childhood poetry for you. I will feature Mr de la Mare again very soon.

Stay tuned for more poetry action…..

Things I would like to Experience…

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today I went mad on the poetry prompt ‘X’ – a great Experience(!). This turned out to be good fun, and X is surprisingly flexible – and wistful. Anyway, read on and Explore (oh, stop it!)….

Things I would like to Experience

I’d love to get into a X rated film

Even better if it was 3D

So I could wear X-Ray specs

Then I would get the plane

To Mexico and become

An ex-pat, an extrovert,

Lead a non-exacting existence

In Excessive heat

Though I would have some

Explaining to do when I’m extradited to

Home ground

That could all be very toxic

I expect

An exciting thought though

HM 2023

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s.

There is an X in all of us, so I want to see your pieces. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…..

Halloween Capers..

Hello Poetry Lovers

Hands up who likes Halloween?! I mean really likes it. I thought not.

Do you remember when it only once got a mention on Blue Peter and drawing a witch at school? And that was about it?!

Now, of course, it’s all costumes and paraphernalia. Awful! So I’ve tried to get over what confusion that period used to cause. It took me a long time to understand the Halloween concept, and no-one else knew either! Not really.

I’ve tried hard to put this over, read on….

Halloween 1968

Coal black night where witches fly

“Can I come with you, aye bye and bye”

Grey skies on a school afternoon

they say witches fly right to the moon

But what IS Halloween?!

Conkers lay dead on the ground

come now, you’re home safe and sound

shall I draw you a nice pumpkin pie?

Americans don’t eat them, that’s pie in the sky!

But what IS Halloween?!

Teacher shouty and brash

school dinners with corned beef hash

Friday afternoon I’ll draw her a witch

but Mrs Ross’s a bad-tempered old bitch

But what IS Halloween?!

She’ll love her favourites Maxine and Pat’s

mine will get a glance and that’s that.

I’ll take it home, hope for the best

that Mum will take the slightest interest

But what IS Halloween?!

This question actually comes from my lips

Mum says shuttup and eat your chips!

no-one cares less about stupid Halloween

witches don’t exist, this is bloody obscene

It’s actually the eve of All Saints Day

now for chrissakes go and play!

But what IS Halloween?!

H Moulson 2022

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. An Unhappy Halloween to you all! We’ll be back real soon….

The Spice of Life….

Hello Poetry Lovers

On Thursday we went to Poems not Bombs open mic poetry at the Spice of Life pub in Soho. A free event hosted by the talented Paul E McGrane from 3 till 5. A great performance space down in the pub’s cellar. A blissful and decadent way to spend an afternoon……

Adore this picture! Looks like I’m singing a French pop song! When in fact I read 3 poems!

From twenty or so poets, we had the joy of Donall and Janice Dempsey, the amazing Lee Campbell (and Rufus), Manatita Hutchinson (aka Lantern Carrier), and Steve Tasane – these latter two poets were a new discovery for me. Such vibrant and stunning material.

This is the lovely thing about live poetry, you really don’t know who you’re going to meet! I can thoroughly recommend them! I’ve put Trisha Broomfield there in the gallery but sadly she couldn’t make it this time, but Trisha was there and vibrant in July. And will join us again soon.

Poetry not Bombs takes place every third Thursday afternoon of the month at The Spice of Life pub in Soho. Sign up at 2.30 pm. Be there or be square!

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon……

Lit Up….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Another great prompt from Sue Burge’s mind gym, which is Lucent. This can be taken so many ways and any sort of light can be fun.

Who remembers lighting a match for one of the frequent smokers of the past, and their features looking so different in that fleeting glow? Fascinating, if not always flattering.

I’ve currently written a sad one for now…..

You are lucent when you talk to her

Your thin features lit up

When you look at me, they go

Perceptibly dim.

How did I put your fire out?!

It was pretty hot a few months ago

There’s no light in your voice

When I call

And the world is dark when you don’t

Call Me

Housewives II

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today I would like to further explore housework and what it really does. Does it really make a difference? Can it really clean everything ?! It can’t erase past arguments, and emotions.

This one’s a bit grim, not my usual style but read on and see what you think….