The Sealey Challenge

Hello Poetry Lovers

Sorry it’s been nearly a week, I’ve been busy as a bee!

The Sealey Challenge has been one of my preoccupations. Just to refresh your memory, the plan is to read a poetry pamphlet every day for the month of August and post it on social media. And I’m nearly fresh out! August is such a long month. So it’s up the library for me.

It does not help that Dobby has gone on strike and refuses to pose with any of the books. She’s demanding more sardines – but that’s impossible, they’re bad for her tummy, and so negotiations have broke down completely.

Luckily, I had back up with Mum’s Russian dolls and the Homepride Men, but I’ve since heard that they’ve come out in sympathy and are picketing outside!

These are just some of the wonderful books I’ve been featuring and re-reading. I’ll keep you posted on my progress and that I will actually make it to the 31st!! Wish me luck.

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

The Cat Who Isn’t Ours


Hello Poetry Lovers

Now, as most of us cat lovers are aware, it was International Cat’s Day on Tuesday. So clever poet and friend Trisha Broomfield has penned a wonderful tribute to these felines, especially Perry who seems to have adopted her.

Adorable cat but a mystery background. Here, Trisha sums up her feelings for Perry very well. Read on….

The cat who isn’t ours
Hurries to greet us when we return home
Elegantly leaps through open windows


Curls up on blankets, towels or vacated seats
Any time he can, without a backward glance
To him his home is here, even though it is not.


We do not feed the cat, who is not ours
Honestly, maybe a small portion of turkey at Christmas
Or a morsel of chicken, when we weaken.


In his mind there is no reason why he
Should not be welcomed in
No excuse for us not to stroke his fur, allow him
To sit on our laptops, cat’s love that


Over all, we are happy to see the cat, expect when he miaows
Under the bedroom window at dawn.
Really, our lives are richer for his visits, but he does
Steal in bearing dead mice. Then wonders why we are not thrilled.
©TB

Wasn’t that a wonderful piece?! Thank you so much for that, Trisha. My love to Perry… Now, who would like to write about their own cat? On a postcard please, to the usual address…

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

Summer of ‘76

Hello Poetry Lovers

So who remembers that relentless summer of ‘76?! Most of us, I bet. That three weeks in July of scalding temperatures and droughts. That picture of me above said it all!

Not being a great fan of the heat, I thought I’d buried it, but clever poet Sharon Andrews gave the most wonderful prompt this week Where had Summer gone? And 1976 came flooding back……. I remember that heatwave sloped off as quickly as it had come. I’ve tried to put this over in the piece below. Read on…..

Where Had Summer Gone?

Where had summer gone?

They asked after the relentless 

heatwave of ‘76

Had it melted into badly paid

summer jobs and other heartaches?

Swallowed up by lost loves 

and the Italian boys on the street?

Half lagers in the Castle pub

while sneering at punks ?

All that remained was red peeling

skin on tired shoulders 

And a nagging hosepipe ban 

It simply merged into an indolent

August 

And crept away as fast as it came 

Wasn’t that a great prompt?! Please keep them coming, Sharon. Thank you for that.

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

The Shopping List

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we tackle one of those seemingly mundane things in life. Yes, the shopping list! A staple in our everyday existence – but have you ever written down what you truly need?!

Have a look at this piece I’ve penned plus the tumult I suffered trying to rhyme the last line. I got a bit desperate as you will see.

Shopping List

A special thing to make you laugh

To cut your jadedness by half

You can afford to renew your humour

Avoid products containing trauma

And items that are melancholy

Simply select the brightest trolley

A juicy orange to cut in half

fresh soap to wash in the bath

Go to the section with the fresh outlook

Before you think about what to cook

Buy energy, and cross off doubt

That’s if they haven’t sold out 

Confidence that you pre-ordered

(The grudge section ill-afforded)

Luxury items like poise and trust

But have that chocolate bar if you must 

Your loving trolley the checkouts will scan 

vibrance, patience, virtue – and spam! 

I hope you liked that, PL’s. Forgive the Spam at the end but I was truly worn out at the end. Now, there’s a shopping trolley in all of us, so get writing in…..

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers, we’ll be back real soon. Don’t touch that dial!!

Interview….

Yes, Poetry Lovers

you heard right! We’re back in the talk show studio.

Today, our esteemed guest is that enigmatic and very talented poet Connaire Kensit! (Rapturous applause)

Now, settle down and make our guest welcome. (Connaire glides elegantly onto the talk show set).

Welcome to the show, Connaire. I’ve been looking forward to having you on for some time. Please fill us in on your background;

Connaire

Well, Heather, I had three Irish grandparents and one English granny.  The family was middle class, but not rich.  My mother and her mother had little education but plenty of traditional skills.  

My father had studied English and French Literature at Cambridge University; he worked in education, and served in anti-aircraft gunnery during the war.  

My mother also spoke French, acquired working in France as an au pair.  When I was six they got my sister and me speaking French: we used it as a second language.  This was my first step towards a career in linguistics.  I worked on several other languages as a teenager, then at University studied Chinese with subsidiary Japanese.  With each language I looked at its poetry.

My more distant Irish relatives were Christian, but I have no religion; I’m a third generation Humanist.

That’s so impressive, Connaire. A bilingual background is a real asset.

When did poetry become a part of your life?

With nursery rhymes, playground skipping songs, and then school English lessons, of course!  I’m old enough for a song to be something you sing, rather than play recordings of, and as a teenager I started translating songs into English or French, from French, English or Dutch originals.  

The translations were for singing to the original tune, so I had to match the original verse form.  I still do verse-translations like that; the hobby came in handy when later I taught a module in literary translation.  

Verse-translating is a way of producing poetry without having to think of anything to say, a bit like buying half-baked bread rolls to finish off in your oven at home.  I did it long before writing any original poems of my own.

  From 1972 my job included teaching linguistic science to students of literature.  A convenient way of presenting linguistic concepts such as phonemes, morphemes, syntagmatic and paradigmatic relations and so forth to these students was to use examples from poems they were studying as literature.  

To prepare my lessons I would analyse the structure of poems and work out how the poets must have gone about constructing them; it served as training in the poet’s craft.  In 1978 it occurred to me, “I could do this myself”, and I began writing poems of my own.

1978 was a good year!

Which poem or collection is your personal favourite?

I find some poems more rewarding than some others, but which I like best varies with re-readings.  I have a favourite haiku, one by Buson (Japanese,18th Century), which I translate  Something stabs me:  stepped on in our room, my late wife’s comb.  So much implied by so few words!

Among narrative poetry collections I’m much impressed by the Lais of Marie de France (French, 12th Century).  Such simple, lucid language, ideal for performance to an audience keen to know what happen next!

Among poets of our own time and place my current favourite is Wendy Cope.  I love her mastery of rhythm, and her wit.

 I love that amazing haiku.

What are you working on at the moment?

At any given moment I always have a bunch of unfinished poems.  Some of them get finished soon, some after months or years.  Can I be said to be “working on” what’s sitting in a drawer?

In 2016 we had a Putney Verse Workshop session on mnemonics (things like Thirty days hath September, April, June and November . . . ).  I thought of writing one for remembering the names and order of geological periods—Cambrian, Carboniferous, Permian, Cretaceous and so on.  I started on this but it began to grow into a lengthy epic on Earth History.  I’ve done a few dozen lines and got as far as the Ediacaran era (just before the Cambrian).  But new discoveries in earth sciences are coming thick and fast, so I’ll need to update my knowledge before continuing.  

If I ever get it finished it will be several thousand lines long.  It could be useful for geology students.

We’ll be fascinated to see the result. What’s the best reading you’ve done and the worst?

By “reading” I take it you mean public performance of poetry?  In the past ten years I’ve been consciously working at improving at this, so logically my best performance should be my most recent, which has also been my most carefully prepared, and for which I had expert guidance from Ken Mason and Anne Warrington; that is my small part in the Cry Freedom show at Hampton Hill on June 4th this year.

My worst was probably in extracts from Hamlet in a school English lesson around 1955.  This was before I learned to understand Shakespearean English, and one can’t perform well what one can’t understand.

That is so true, Connaire, but still we do it. Yes, your performance in Cry Freedom was stunning. You should be proud of that.

Well, thank you for coming on the show, Connaire and giving us such an insight to your life and work

(Rapturous applause as Connaire leaves the building).

Wasn’t Connaire a terrific guest, Poetry Lovers?!

Thank you so much for coming to the studio. We’ll be back with more poetry antics real soon

Emotional Baggage

Hello Poetry Lovers

Now as we know by my most recent broken Handbag post, the loss of a much trusted item takes time to get over. However, we never think of the injured party’s side of things, and clever poet Sharron Green has given us the bag’s version of events. A very poignant view.

Wonderful piece, thank you Sharron. Do read on….

Emotional Baggage

I’m sorry dear Heather,


that I’ve let you down.


I love that you took me


on trips into town.


At poetry gatherings


we were a great pair,


I held you together,


and now I’m not there.


I was in charge of


your bits and your bobs,


your lippy and fags,


your hankies for sobs


your cardie on cool days


your brolly for rain


gloves in the winter

it was quite a strain.


And that’s why my handles


could handle no more –


you’re lucky they didn’t


give up long before.


But now’s not the time


for me to let rip,


we need time to mend,


or at least get a grip.


I’m hoping you have


a replacement for me,


a glance in your cupboard,


reveals two or three.


But one thing I’ll say


now that I’m not in tow


is thanks for the mem’ries


and on with the show!

@rhymes_n_roses

Wasn’t that wonderful?! So witty and astute. Thanks again, Sharron for such a well written piece.

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

Korky the Cat

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, that talented poet Sue Burge came up with yet another extraordinary keyword in her weekly mind gym, a mythical pet named with the initial K.

I didn’t need to think twice about that staple childhood cover star of the Dandy. Not that I would have had Korky as a pet, more of a mate really. Second to Beryl the Peril who I longed to play with after school. Korky had a cunning yet very tender side…

Anyway, I’ve jotted down some thoughts, do read on….

Korky the Cat

Oh Korky the Cat 

Behaving like the worst type 

Of human being 

Your round green eyes and flicked up tail, 

inked so splendidly in feline glory

on the Dandy front cover

Spoke volumes every Thursday morning 

Raising the day to a new level 

No one could smoke cigars 

And steal chickens the way you did 

I never once questioned why you didn’t purr

Nor tolerated strokes behind the ears 

And not got taken to the vets  

H M 2023

Well, thank you Ms Burge for taking me down that inked comic route. Poor Korky got dropped from a great height in 1984 from The Dandy front cover before the comic itself shuffled off on 4th December 2012.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Let me know who your favourite comic character was……

A Booming Lovelies Triumph

Hello Poetry Lovers

Yes, you heard right, Friday night was a triumph for The Booming Lovelies at The Guildford Fringe.

Upstairs at the beautiful Keep pub in an inhumane temperature, we embraced an audience of 17. Far more than we anticipated.

After a stiff gin and tonic downstairs, 40 fags and two bathroom visits I made my way upstairs in apprehension at what the coming night would bring.

The colourful Trisha and Sharron and I clung together that vital hour before. There was however nothing to worry about it seemed, as once that magic 8 pm came, the words and emotions seemed to flow. However, I forgot my words on at least two of the pieces. Bore!

Trisha started with Cold Soup & the Joy of Sex, I followed with Beryl the Peril, and Sharron read about her home town The Tree-Lined Village Square. We knew then that we were on an even path (kind of).

So 50 minutes later, or thereabouts, we finished in a haze of glowing perspiration, all three of us reading A Certain Age.

As if it wasn’t bliss enough, I could also do sketching while the others read. This is how I perceived the audience;

Not quite sure how a skinhead got in there but he’s probably an arty one. We look forward to our next gig at the Slaggs Fringe shortly. I’m the one leaning on the bar.

Seriously, thank you so much Booming Lovelies for this amazing opportunity.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Off to Scarborough for a week, then back with more poetry action

One Day to Go

Yes, Poetry Lovers.

We are on a countdown now for the Booming Lovelies to perform at the Guildford Fringe tomorrow night!

Sometimes it feels like a significant event in your life never comes – and then suddenly it does! It’s unnerving and exciting at the same time.

After a great dress rehearsal upstairs at The Keep yesterday, I feel we’re good to go.

This is Trisha and I getting into our parts. Director Julian was on the case and gave us solid advice.

This is Trisha, Sharron and I dressed for the part. It will be a colourful evening on Friday night at 8 pm. So be there or be square.

Will give a full review, natch. See you tomorrow night, Poetry Lovers ……..

Less than a week to go….

Okay, folks.

The countdown is on! Less than a week to go before the Booming Lovelies take Guildford by storm! Forgive me talking in Bugs Bunny jargon but this is very exciting and there’s just one more rehearsal to go! Before the ultimate production.

After an exciting week of co-hosting at the Lightbox in Woking and then a triumphant Friday night at Paper Tiger Poetry, we turn to the ultimate production of the Booming Lovelies ….

Sharron Green, Trisha Broomfield and I will be performing at the Keep Pub in Guildford on Friday night (7th July) at 8 pm. This is the link for tickets http://Guildford fringe festival.com/boominglovelies

We really hope to see you there

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. See you on Friday