Poet's Letter Magazine is a general interest national (and international) magazine, strongly rooted in the City of London, its life, living and the communities  and covers Politics (British, European and International), Arts Actualisation, Theatre Arena, Geo-Politics, Social Dynamics and Change, Philosophy, Life, Living, Publishing World, , Poetry, Performance Poetry, Interviews of Poets, Writers, Singers and Artists, City Business and Community, Book Reviews, Performance Poetry Reviews. Read, Subscribe, Support and Advertise.

Call us on 07809 682 065

 ISSN 1753-0644 Print       ISSN 1744-3776 Online

Live the Tiny Brilliance

London's General Interest National Magazine

Thinking. Creating. Living.

It's A Living Thing, A Community Thing And A Wonder Thing. Together.

Nothing is built without toils and one cannot claim that they have built  something until they have toiled for it with a faith, a conviction and with the power of their dreams! We are trying to build something at Poet's Letter: all you can do is be a part of it: rain in your support, bring in your wind and seasons, soil in your faith and conviction and let us build together something deeper than ourselves and bigger than the corporations and their offspring: money!

Poet's Letter Magazine covers News and Events, Films, Photography, Citiscope,   Stories, Children's Lit, Youth Lit, World Poetry News, World Literature News, World Travel, World Religions,  Earth, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Cluster of Galaxies, Infinite Universe, Music, United Nation of Humanity of Great Britain, Universal Humanion of Humanity, Letter to the Editor, Opinions and more. Read, Subscribe, Support and Advertise.

Call us on 07809 682 065

Cityzone is an Enterprise Network that helps entrepreneurs, investors and professional advisers to find opportunities through its networking events and web site. Tel: 020 7700 2727. www.city-zone.com 
 

Fly with us

Logo

Royal Bengal Airline, 619 Romford Road, London E12 5AD. Tel +44 (0)845 094 0678 Fax +44 (0) 208 514 0608
 www.royalbengalairline.com

Poet's Letter Magazine March 2007 Issue Features Page

 

Celebrating publication on its 4th Year

 

 

Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music

 

Kerry-Fleur Schleifer: Songs of Woven Spirit

 

Photo Credit: Tito Batista

Songs of Woven Spirit: Kerry-Fleur Schleifer's music CD released recently containing music from a depth of human spirituality and breadth that 

her voice represents! Her voice is not 'genetically modified' by the market manipulation and media orchestration or by the 'music industry' rather it is purely a product of her being and part and parcel of who and what she is: a pure enigmatic human being with a voice like a spring day or an autumnal sunset or a winter's winter wonderland breezing liberty, melancholy and depth with an endowed radiance that is natural in it. She sings and becomes and in the process Kerry takes us to a journey that is enticing, enriching, empowering, inviting; yet she is at times, haunting, inspiring, poignant and profound! 

Kerry-Fleur was born in London, England. She grew up speaking French up to the age of four when her family decided she needed to stop speaking French and only speak English. It was here that her own inner voice was formed. 

'Being thrown into the incomprehensible pool of a new language sent' her, as she puts it, into 'her own cloud of thoughts.' Her emotions discovered their expressions within sounds and gibberish words. 

Today she speaks Angel Tongue as if it were her first language. Growing up in London Kerry-Fleur made her way through five day schools due to finding the classroom window more necessary to her colourful imagination than the classroom curriculum. 

At seventeen she moved to the United States of America to complete secondary school followed by University. She then found herself in the busy art heaven of Florence Italy where she used to immerse herself within the Renaissance architecture and uniquely elaborate palazzo's and let her pen spill the poetry that inspired her so. 

Paris was next and her absorption of the articulateness of rich culture again found a special place in her heart. Kerry-Fleur then decided to move to New York and attended Parsons School for Design and achieved a Bachelor of Fine Arts.

It was after two years in 'the exciting but chaotic life of the Big Apple' that Kerry-Fleur felt it was time to return to her roots in the London where she is residing today. 

It was in her very home town that she felt the confidence to start what she felt was always so intrinsic to her: her singing voice; the part of her that spoke when her words had ceased speaking. 

She discovered her chance to shine within the London bars and clubs and soon was receiving invitations to perform proper sets at some of the better venues and soon formed collaborations with various other musicians of diverse styles. 

It has been extremely important to Kerry-Fleur to allow her expression its freedom of style. Primarily a jazz improvisational singer she also feels a great passion for folk, blues, and verging at times on the hauntingly operatic. 

She says her voice is her soul coming alive and can only be released through a pure emotional dialogue with what she feels. Ever since she used to sing lullabies to send her friends to sleep she has felt singing deeply therapeutic. 

"Art, so purposeful in its own right." Kerry-Fleur's motto to explain her deeper purpose in her singing which is part of her living and being.

Kerry makes her soul flow out into her silky velvet voice that enriches us while astounds our senses and invites and dares us to leave out the inhibitions behind and follow her like a wonder bound child who does not have any cynicism or poisonous what ifs: get on with the journey with her music and do not set or seek out any goals but just take the journey itself as its rewards! And there Kerry will have taught you how to live your soul through listening to her music! Absolutely magnificent in her range and radiance she is a great musician, vocalist who ought to be listened to! Visit Kerry's Poet's Letter Page

 

Go to Top

 

 

 

Poetrimore

Kerry-Fleur Schleifer


An Improvised State of Affairs

 

Here is what I am.
This is how I be,
 How I see,

see to be free.
 
Each part of me

is woven out of
an other's hand of wonder.
At the device of
the spinning wheel.
The gold gathered
from above.
Which clasped through
the solo box,
box of darkness
Becomes one
with all who
see through sound.
 
My chords of voice

echo
who you all
are.
 
This is my compilation.

An improvised state of Affairs.
I reckon with the abstract elements.
I, click into their wonder.
 
Wonderment.

Lavish Lush.
My stupid serenity of silence.
A truth of knowing
unheeded by
knowledge.

Go to Top

 

 

For more Visit Kerry-Fleur Schleifer

UNRELEASED EP
SONGS:
1.cinder
2.forsaken
3.This Lullaby
produced by Chamber Studios
ElysoidMediae.com. 2005
Guitar by Neil Marsh
4.Booby Trap
(2:10)
5.Honey Bee
(5:10)
Produced by Mr Limbic aka Bongo John
mrlimbic.co.uk. 2005
(under construction)
6.A Smile At Last
Produced at Blue Dungeon Studios. 2005
7.Shake it or Bake it baby!
(5:52)
Produced by Cosmosity. 2004
8. Timb Bomb
Production and Keys:John Jaswilowick

CD can be purchased via: http://www.kerryfleur.com 
or directly to myspace : http://www.myspace.com/kerryfleur 
Each CD cost £6  including postage.

 

Go to Top

Kerry sings at Poet's Letter Poetry Performance and Live Music Series at Poetry Cafe on every second Monday, March 12th 7 pm she will be singing.

 

Editorial on the 4th Year Beginning of Publication

UK Politics: European Politics World Politics
Geo-Politics Citiscope: Walk on the Thames Cosmography: Inner Out
Music: Kerry-Fleur Schleifer: Songs of Woven Spirit Poet of the Month: Maggie Sullivan Humanics

Audio Books Reviews

Sharon Harriott: Audio Books Reviews Editor  

Book Reviews: Night Watch: Sofie Lidefjard Featured Poets: Sarah Wardle, Joshua Idehen
Feature: Love London Live London Find London Make London Home: Victoria Purcell March Poet in Residence @ Poet's Letter: Helen Long Short Story: Last Call: Tricia Peak
3rd London Poetry Festival 2007: Five New Poets in Residence: Briony Dennis, Inua Ellams, Juli Jeana, Tom Chivers and Tricia Peak:  August 10, 11, 12, 13 (Friday-Monday) Translit: Spanish Poetry: Tomas Sanchez Santiago: Translation: Dr Natalia Carbajosa and Dr Rati Saxena Translit: Indian Hindi Poetry: Dr Rati Saxena
Purely Poetry: Rebecca Atherton, Helen Long, Michael Levy Poetry Feast: Carolyn Waudby Beowulf Poetry Prize 2007: Largest English Poetry Competition
Youth Lit Section: Divine Poetry Competition Winners Poetry and Other News Events and Performances
Young Lit Section: Little People's Literature Poet of the Month: Philip Ruthen Poetrimore: Kerry-Fleur Schleifer
A Poet in the Family: The Coleridge Archive
27 February to 27 April 2007
Liverpool Playwright Jimmy McGovern Writes His First Stage Play for 25 Years International Women's Day Night @ Dogstar! March 8 2007: Entry: £2: 8pm - 11pm 

Fiction: Short Story: Corner Corpus: Munayem Mayenin

Anniversary Surprise

Outward World Lit: Munayem Mayenin in Spanish: Translation: Dr Natalia Carbajosa
 

 

Features Features Features Features Features

Love London Live London Find London Make London Home

Victoria Purcell, Features Editor, explores the best of London. 

London can be unforgiving - the city never sleeps, crowds take on infuriating lemming-like qualities, and the materialistic aspiration for a river-side lifestyle is plain exhausting (not to mention financial suicide). But 36 million tourists a year know this is one of the greatest cities in the world. Londoners, however, need reminding of this time to time…

London has 159 theatres; 8,500 restaurants; 29,000 shops; more religions and languages than any other city; fascinating museums and galleries, many of which are free; and the greatest royal soap opera, with coronations, weddings, funerals and media scandals. We also have the world's largest and oldest Tube network.

The Tube is something all Londoner's have in common, with the 'Misery Line' (also known as the Northern Line) often at the top of the agenda for a Monday morning moan. The Metropolitan line opened on January 10 1863, and with a network of 275 stations and 253 miles of line to maintain, keeping it all running smoothly can be no easy feat.

Even the famously inaccurate tube map, designed by electrical engineer Harry Beck in 1933, is an icon in its own right. Based on an electric schematic for ease of use, it will leave your head spinning should you attempt to follow it at street level. Take a look at the Transport for London website, which shows the original 1933 design morphing into the 2004 map, a geographically accurate tube map, and a street map - oddly fascinating!

These days we have Poems on the Underground, Platform for Art, and licensed busking to keep us entertained while below the surface. Chiho Aoshima's City Glow, Mountain Whisper, currently showing at Gloucester Road Underground station, is certainly worth a trip around the Circle Line!

Emerging back into the light, London provides a surprising amount of green space to stretch the limbs after a week slouched at the computer. Start with The Royal Parks, St James's, Green, Hyde, Richmond (the largest at 1000 hectares), Greenwich, Regents', Bushy, Kensington Gardens, and Brompton Cemetery. That's 5,000 hectares of history and architecture with hundreds of buildings, statues, and memorials supplying an insight into London's heritage. Then there's Battersea Park, Kew Gardens (which hauls in millions of visitors every year and requires a bus to see all of it), Holland Park, Clapham Common, Hampstead Heath… you would be hard pushed to find that much green space in Tokyo or Paris!

Battersea Park is home to a beautifully eccentric Peace Pagoda, a gift to London from the Japanese Buddhist Order, Nipponzan Myohoji, in 1985. Built on the south side of the Thames, it is the first pagoda to be built in any western capital and remains the only major monument dedicated entirely to peace.

Those more inclined to discover urban London should hop online - www.londonforfree.net has detailed a number of walks passing some of the city's finest features. The City Walk passes the oldest parts of London, including the start and end of the Great Fire, the Bank of England (which still holds Britain's gold reserves, should you wish to hatch your own Ocean's 11 plot), the Tower of London and St Mary-Le-Bow Church. Designed by Sir Christopher Wren, this church not only featured in the 'Orange and Lemons' nursery rhyme, it also supplied the definition of a true Cockney - anyone born within the sound of the Bow bells. Sir Wren also built St Paul's Cathedral, which saw the wedding of Charles and Diana in 1981, and St Brides Church on Fleet Street, the spire of which inspired the world-famous tiered wedding cake design.

Stroll along the south bank as part of the Culture Walk, taking in Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, the South Bank Centre, the Tate Modern (London's newest and most popular modern art museum with 5.2 million visitors in its first year), Southwark Cathedral, County Hall, and eight of London's bridges. Shakespeare's Globe suffered a tempestuous existence - originally built in Shoreditch in 1598 it was moved across the river where the land rates were cheaper. It was closed in 1640 and the new Globe didn't open until 1997, thanks to investment from an American filmmaker. County Hall, home of the London Government until 1986, now encompasses the Dali museum, the Saatchi Gallery and the London Aquarium.

A testament to the most diverse city in the world is the number of astounding and curious places of worship built by other religions. Tucked away in residential Wimbledon is the Bhuddapadipa Temple, a dazzling white and gold creation with exquisite murals inside. The Swaminarayan Hindu Temple in Neasden is a stone and marble wonder with elaborate pinnacles, built by dedicated Indians using traditional methods and the finest Bulgarian marble. Regents Park Mosque, one of London's most stunning landmarks, has a gold dome and a 140ft tower. The Baitul Futuh Mosque in Morden, is the largest in western Europe. Opened in 2003, it can hold up to 10,000 worshippers and has a 15.5 metre dome. 

And should you feel the need to escape the madness of Oxford Street, take a look around the Fo Guang Temple, a Chinese Buddhist centre with three large golden statues presiding over the tranquil Main Shrine. Oddly enough it began life as the All Saints Christian Study Centre!

And finally, for true traditionalists, London also has one of the last remaining shops selling snuff (G Smith & Sons on Shaftesbury Avenue), the Twinings Tea Shop (run by ten consecutive Mr Twinings on Fleet Street), and the Routemaster, the beloved red double-decker, which was decommissioned in December 2005 but still runs on heritage routes (the number 9 from Albert Hall to Aldwych and the number 15 from Trafalgar Square to Tower Hill).

That's a lot of London to love.

Comments to victoria dot purcell at poetsletter dot com

Go to Top

Purely Poetry Purely Poetry Purely Poetry Purely

Two Poems: Helen Long: Poet in Residence, March 2007 at Poet's Letter.

Return To Earth

To know what I am looking for, but not the universal law
To know what I would do, without becoming a world view
And when an answer isn’t found, at least a question’s asked
It’s not that I seek solitude, just not to be in shade

Found not solely in religion, needing knowing of a god
Dispelling self obsession, and the finding of self worth
And when an effort was in vain it’s still and exercise
It’s not that I would interrupt, just ensure I am heard

By conviction, but not by conceit
Discipline, but not denial
When stumped where we are to proceed, opens space to create

It’s not an endless possible, it’s all that I imagine

This is not a heaven, but the place where I belong
This is not all Eden, but we each see where it is
And when wild strawberry moments go, stalks continue still to grow
No divine creation, just contributing a seed

This is not sloganeering, but meaning assigned to life
This is not symbol worship, but a beauty recognised
And when we get back to the core, we can find our way out
Yes spirit is a constant, only ruled by nature’s law  

Go to Top

These hands were made to hold

Bullying takes a knock
When hands are held in lock
We naturally mould
These hands were made to hold

To comfort and to heal
To open up, to seal
To model, craft and mould
These hands were made to hold

Cradling earth in hand
Not tied to any land
The soil was my mould
These hands were made to hold

To show that we care
To team up, to share
Community the mould
These hands were made to hold

Fit in like a rainbow
So we see each light glow
The breaking was the mould
These hands were made to hold

Go to Top

Read more of Helen's works on her Poet in Residence Page

Three Poems: Rebecca Atherton: Deputy Editor

 

Memories

In your work you attempt to recover the past,
As if by translating the disordered shelves of memory
Into the tangible rhetoric of fabric and thread
You have the authority to bring it back.

My first encounter with those vast white stretches
Conjured a familiar frame in toddling attire –
Pudding basin bob crowning apple-red cheeks,
Mischievous laughter escaping sugar-stained lips –

And I was struck by your avoidance of colour,
The lack of emotion, the absence of warmth.
I felt in you a desire to unpick your way back
Towards a more organic route.

Now, I like to think it is because you see it all in black & white,
Romanticised like 1940s celluloid,
Each separate stitch as loaded as a scar,
Holding beneath it a single moment, eternally trapped.

Go to Top


Car Park

Concrete shelves carve up the air,
Casting horizontal shadows across the adjacent street.
Advertising the spaces in their garish smiles,
Blinking on and off as wayward clouds drift by,
They exchange rectangles until they run out.

Abandoned vehicles wait out the day –
Devout as dogs.
Strangely vacant, they stare each other out,
Caught on a silent grudge.

Likewise, my body rests within starched sheets,
Refusing the efforts of the Frog Prince.
Secretly inhabited, it exists on a diet of memory and thought,
And the promise of a small dot, still so far away,
That will expand in impetus and size as the glue sets.

Only then will the spider limbs grip
Responsibility of the wheel, killing autopilot
As they navigate the tunnel of dancing light towards
The anxious eyes crowding the circumference of the sterile room.

Go to Top


Bricks

Something must have visited me as I slept
Slamming balled fists
Into the gentle rise and fall of my chest,
For, awake, I cannot move
And everything hurts.

A warm bottle hugs me tight,
Filling in for the empty embrace of pills.
Rocking it, I conjure up a child,
Rewinding the circle of grief,
Turning the emptiness inside out.

Reluctant to break the spell,
I look to the wall and count bricks
Searching for answers to questions about myself.
You watch me in black and white,
Sad, because there is nothing you can do.

Go to Top

 

Michael Levy

A True Heart by Michael Levy
Ah! the whispering mist-tickle trees,
Enchanted forests of neurons cultivate delicate-seas,
Radiance of light beams through wisdom's haze,
Hidden mysteries as our free-path snakes many ways.

No; this is no pastoral scene,
It all takes place in a daytime dream,
It is called life, a domicile within our mind,
A home where the truth is so hard to find.

Only when we discover words ... beyond be-lie-f.
And grasp time from the clutches of a habitual thief,
Only then will we realize that; there is no need to endure,
A devil of a mind ... that has rejected the heartfelt universal law.

The universal law that charges the infusion of love & joy,
A work of art so simply graceful, energizing the eternal spirit we employ,
To enhance a soul that nourishes a medley of breeds,
And a true heart that sows a fellowship of natures-natural-seeds.

Go to Top

 

Book Reviews Book Reviews Book Reviews

 

The Night Watch

Virago: 2006

‘The Night Watch’ (Virago 2006) is a compelling story about four Londoners, three women and a man, struggling with life during and after the war. Opening in 1947, the narrative moves back through 1944 and 1941 to uncover what has brought its central characters to the situations in which we first encounter them. This way of telling a story brings an extra dimension to it, making this book that little bit more interesting than your regular wartime novel. We see the beginning of each individual tragedy after we have witnessed its consequence. Time is not as an ongoing narrative but a memory, and the novel suggests that we need to understand the past in order to explain the present.

We follow the backward stories of these four Londoners through glimpses of their lives and sexual relationships in the three sections of the novel. The story begins a couple of years after the war. London is still recovering from the horrors of war but also there is sound of rebuilding and new hope. Women's stockings are darned at the toes and heels and most people's shoes are scuffed. Dusty, blitzed London is beginning to rebuild; everywhere is the sound of workmen mending roofs. Here live the novel’s four central characters; mannish dressing lesbian Kay lodging in dirty rented rooms, watching damaged individuals seeking to be cured by her faith-healer landlord; Helen, feminine and gay, works at a lonely-hearts agency in the West End and lives with her lover Julia; Viv who does not seem to be able to cope without her married lover; and finally Duncan who lives with an old man whom he describes as his 'uncle', and thinks himself lucky to have a dull job in a candle factory. The war, in each character's case, acts as a kind of impassive matchmaker. Everywhere, the atmosphere is one of weariness and wariness shot through with flickers of anticipation about revived opportunities and new directions.

Little by little, as the story goes back through time, we uncover connections between the characters: Duncan and Viv are brother and sister; Viv and Helen work in the same post-war dating agency; Helen met her current lover through Kay; Kay once helped Viv in a crisis.

As we read on we start to unravel the events which consequences we read about in the beginning of the book. Our hearts go out to the four Londoners as we learn of how they came to be where they were when we first encountered them. The struggle through a seemingly endless and ghastly war is thoroughly described with the language well reflecting the time setting.

London as a city also plays a major part in the book. The description of the city is a loving one “The terrace was white – that London white, more properly a streaked and greyish yellow; the grooves and sockets of its stucco façade had been darkened by fogs, by soot, and – more recently – by brick-dust.”, and the author’s use of words correct for the time, such as ‘lavatory’ instead of ‘toilet’, fits well in with the story and makes the reader connect even more with the story.

‘The Night Watch’ is Sarah Waters’ fourth novel. She won the Betty Trask Award for ‘Tipping The Velvet’ and the Somerset Maugham Award and Sunday Times Young Writer of the Year for ‘Affinity’. ‘Fingersmith’ was shortlisted for both the Orange Prize 2002 and for the Man Booker Prize 2002, and won the CWA Historical Dagger prize before earning her three 2003 Author of the Year awards - from the Booksellers Association, Waterstone's and The British Book Awards. Sarah Waters is also the winner of The South Bank Show Award.

‘The Night Watch’ was shortlisted for Man Booker Prize for Fiction as well as the Orange Prize for Fiction in 2006. It is now out in paperback.

Review by: Sofie Lidefjard

Go to Top

 

Audio Books Reviews

Sharon Harriott: Audio Books Reviews Editor  

 

Audio Books Reviews Editor's Pick for our Anniversary Issue for you

 

The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency Vol. 1 & 2.

Written and dramatised by Alexander McCall Smith

Read by various actors

Published by BBC Audio

Price: 9.99

 

This BBC production has been adapted from the bestselling book of the same name. Precious ‘Mma’ Ramotswe is the proud owner of the No.1 Ladies Detective Agency.

 

Alexander McCall Smith was born and brought up in South Africa , and was in Botswana teaching and setting up a Law school before he moved to Edinburgh , Scotland . This story is filled with his love of the country in his exquisite eye for detail.

 

The actors were well chosen for this production. The accents and mannerisms made each of the robust, African characters come alive. I loved Mma Ramotswe’s voice; her love of ‘traditional Africa ’, her intelligence and empathy for fellow human beings.

 

This Radio drama does peel away some of McCall Smith’s original novel. We lose Mma Ramotswe’s brief and unhappy marriage to a jazz musician for example. Cuts are of course a necessary evil.  Where it’s thinned, characters are sharper and the comedy of some of the situations are more evident in this format. Mma Ramotswe’s relationship her highly talented secretary, Mma Makutsi, is strengthened.

 

A strong aspect of this drama, one that comes across just as well as in the book, is the way the it’s broken into stories. Each case is a separate story, with characters interlinking. It makes it very readable.

 

Ramotswe becomes a mentor as the pair of them team up to tail a teenage girl to find out if she has a boyfriend. A job well paid by the father, Mr Patel. I was a bit sceptical of this story. I was waiting for it to be referred back to later on with the revelation that the girl did indeed have a boyfriend, and that in fact she was pregnant! But this didn’t happen, Mma Ramotswe is anything but cynical.

 

The cases become more challenging and with the help of Mr J.L.B. Maketoni, the reliable owner of Speedy Motors (and love interest) she’s solves the most difficult and harrowing of them all. Mr J.L.B. Maketoni helps Mma Ramotswe with the maintenance of her little white van. After finding something sinister in a small bag in a car he’s working on, he invites her in for a piece of cake and some bush tea.  She is soon on trail of a missing child, a case that involves one of South Africa ’s oldest traditions. Gripping stuff!

 

Saturday

Written by Ian McEwan

Read by Andrew Sachs

Published by HarperCollins

Price: £15.99

 

Henry Perowne wakes up early on Saturday to, what turns out to be, a very bad day!

 

He’s drawn to his bedroom window, where it dawn is just breaking. Looking out, he sees an aeroplane with its engines in flames, heading for Heathrow airport. I felt as disturbed as Perowne as I braced myself for the crash. But it never comes.

 

For me, Andrew Sachs sounds just as Perowne should. Listening to the middle aged mans softly spoken and almost philosophical inner thoughts; I could roughly picture what he would look like.

 

Perowne is a successful neurosurgeon.  He’s very well spoken, and of course, very intelligent. He lives very comfortably in a large, Central London home with his beautiful and successful wife, whom he adores. His daughter Daisy is due to arrive from Paris and has just become a published poet. His youngest, Theo, is already a leading blues guitarist at just 18 years old.

 

Later that same morning, Perowne makes his way to his weekly squash game with his anaesthetist friend. Steering into a side road off Tottenham Court Road to avoid the gathering anti-war march, Perowne gets side swiped by another car, ruining his paint work. The other car is a little worse off as it loses a wing mirror. Three men get out, and one in particular, Baxter, is more menacing.

 

McEwan has interwoven this story with the terror of 9/11 and 7/7. We find out that Daisy is passionate about the politics surrounding the March in London and draws Perowne into a debate within minutes of arriving home. He can see the case both for and against the invasion of Iraq , while Daisy is strictly anti war.  

 

Baxter is unstable, and spoiling for a fight. Perowne tries to negotiate with the thugs, taking a moral high ground. Perowne realises Baxtor is showing signs of Huntington’s disease. But Perowne says this in front of Baxter’s henchmen, which of course, undermines Baxtor’s authority. Baxter punches Perowne hard in the chest in a nasty show of power, although he is able to get away.

 

Later that afternoon and slightly bruised, Perowne dwells on his happiness while making a seafood dish for his family. His daughter and cantankerous father-in-law arrive, and everything is set for the family reunion. That is until Baxter coerces Perowne’s wife and storms in. Like a finale, McEwan fills the penultimate step of the book with moral retrospect. Perowne is forced to face revelations that could upset his happy world and he deals with it all with a quite dignity and dogged loyalty. The fact that he has to operate on his aggressor made me raise my eyes to the roof of the car. 

This is a great audio – well worth a listen.

Comments: sharon dot harriott at poetsletter dot com  

Go to Top

 

Poetry Feast Poetry Feast Poetry Feast Poetry Feast

Carolyn Waudby

Longing

Wind- whipped, she scans the shore
searching for the stone-white boy
washed up to her.

She held his head above the waves,
kissed his brow, smoothed black hair,
pulled him to a sleeping bay

laid him there. How she would give
her locks, her fin, her blood,
her soft, pink tongue - just to walk with him.

How they would love like this - to the death
in her world of secret
and stolen song.

After

I know I am not dead - nor you,
put my hand on your chest
feel your heart working.

We lie in the utter black,
the explosion's after-shock,
listening to the in

and out of our fear,
the call of bullfrogs,
the intermittent crowing of the cock.

Go to Top

A Poet in the Family: The Coleridge Archive
27 February to 27 April 2007

A fascinating insight into the character and behaviour of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge is revealed through his own notebooks, together with journals, correspondence and reminiscences from family and friends in a small display at the British Library from 27 February - 27 April 2007.

The exhibition, entitled A Poet in the Family, looks at Coleridge through the eyes of some of his closest friends and relatives. It includes manuscripts by his children Derwent and Sara Coleridge, and his nephews Edward and John Taylor Coleridge, recording their complex mixture of feelings - from love and admiration to exasperation and sheer bewilderment - towards the erratic genius in their midst.

A notebook entry from 1808 shows Coleridge analysing the workings of his own mind, and remarking wryly that 'My Thoughts crowd each other to death.' The exhibition includes several awed descriptions of his renowned table-talk - though as other items reveal, reconstructing his conversation after the event was no easy matter. His nephew John Taylor Coleridge writes in his journal: 'It is impossible to carry off, or commit to paper his long trains of argument, indeed it is not always possible to understand them, he lays the foundation so deep, and views every question in so original a manner.' Sara Coleridge writes in a letter: 'My father generally discoursed on such a very extensive scale that it would have been an arduous task for me to attempt recording what I had heard .. When alone with me he was almost always on the star-paved road, taking in the whole heavens in his circuit.'

The journal of Coleridge's nephew, John Taylor Coleridge, also sheds new light on the composition of his best known poem, The Ancient Mariner. In 1836, he records Wordsworth's account of the genesis of the poem. 'My uncle had been told a dream which some friend's friend had had of a skeleton ship - on that hint he worked - & as he worked he stated that there must be some cause for his Mariner's sufferings - some crime committed by him. W. had lately read in Shelbrook's (or Sheldrake's) voyages of a sailor having shot an albatross, that came to the ship, & asked my Uncle if he did not think that would do - he thought it would, and adopted it.' According to the journal entry, Wordsworth also claimed to have suggested the idea of 'the dead men rising to work the ship' and to have actually written two lines of the poem himself - the lines near the beginning of the poem where the wedding guest 'listens like a three years' child: / The Mariner hath his will'.

Elsewhere there are stinging indictments of Coleridge's personality, include a letter from Robert Southey, ruling out the idea of a possible reconciliation between the poet and his wife. Southey writes, 'He considers nothing but his own ease… His habits…are destructive of all comfort and domestic order.' In one of the letters on display, his son Derwent reflects on some of the flaws and paradoxes in his father's character: 'As a poet, and as a philosopher, nay even as a critic and conversationist - no less than as a man - with much of the very highest excellence there was always some defect - some screw loose in the marvellous and on the whole admirable machine.'

Formerly preserved in family ownership at the Chanter's Hours, Ottery St Mary, Devon, the archive was acquired by the British Library last year with the aid of generous grants from the National Heritage Memorial Fund, the Pilgrim Trust, the Friends of the National Libraries, the Friends of the British Library, the Lynn Foundation, the Gamlen Charitable Trust and the Denton Wilde Sapte Charitable Trust.

The archive is currently being archived and will be fully accessible to researchers in 2008.

For further information, contact Ruth Howlett at the British Library Press Office: 020 7412 7112 or ruth.howlett@bl.uk

A Poet in the Family: The Coleridge Archive is on display in The Sir John Ritblat Gallery: Treasures of the British Library from 27 February to 27 April 2007. Admission free.

The British Library is the national Library of the United Kingdom. It provides world class information services to the academic, business, research and scientific communities and offers unparalleled access to the world's largest and most comprehensive research collection. Further information is available on the Library's website at www.bl.uk 

World and Geo-Politics World and Geo-Politics World and Geo-Politics

Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth in Sheffield 

Carolyn Waudby, our World Politics Editor takes a look at what happens when self interests make everyone of us fallible to an undeniable state of falling out with the truth!

America’s almost president, Al Gore, recently came to speak on global warming in Sheffield, UK, the city where I live. His talk was to invited guests only and controversially, journalists were not among them – a strange move considering his platform is spreading the message on the critical acceleration of climate change.  However, the university where I work organised a screening of his film An Inconvenient Truth, which was open to all.

In it, Gore is filmed addressing audiences elsewhere and his performance is impressive. He has personally journeyed around the globe collecting visual evidence to back up the alarming statistics of global warming. We witnessed footage of melting icecaps at the North Pole and raging bush fires in the antipodes, sandwiched between scientific data turned into easy-to-grasp graphics, most of which, when extrapolated over 20 years went off the chart. Perhaps most shocking was a map of the world indicating which areas would be under water if too much of the northern ice cap melts - major cities such as San Francisco and Manhattan Island, not merely the rural fringes of land masses.

Gore likens the refusal of some to acknowledge that the global warming we are currently experiencing is man-made, to the flat denials that tobacco causes cancer voiced by the pro-tobacco industry lobby several decades ago. This is a subject close to home for Gore, whose family grew tobacco and whose sister developed lung cancer.

But the interesting point about An Inconvenient Truth is that it is not all doom and gloom. Gore, who comes across as passionate and inspirational, believes that it is not too late to stop and even reverse the global warming trend. He ends the film with things that every individual can do – recycling, planting trees, cutting car usage, using energy-saving light bulbs, and so on – and we left the auditorium believing our actions could make a difference.

The next day, on the university email came a round-robin message from a member of staff who was a scientist, claiming some of the information Gore had used was wrong. The message sparked heated debate both on email and on the sender’s blog.

The message made me angry, not because it questioned Gore’s data, but that it came across as nit-picking and did not offer any backing for the overall messages (and presumably correct data) which Gore had put across. It turned out, ironically, that the sender himself had got some of his facts wrong, and he had to send round a retraction.

But it is precisely this sort of behaviours by scientists that have led to apathy over climate change – petty carping and denial rather than, until now, a collective voice and coherent programme to help us all tackle climate change.

We see scientists as somehow infallible. They’ve replaced priests and gods in western society. But as the tobacco issue shows, they are just as susceptible to greed, bribery, influence or error as anyone else.

Therefore, when some of them deny what we are seeing and experiencing before our own eyes, we should examine their motives. We should demand and seek answers ourselves, rather than placing our trust in those who deem it too ‘inconvenient’ to change.

Comments to carolyn dot waudby at poetsletter dot com  

Go to Top

Featured Poet: Sarah Wardle

 

After Magritte

The Reckless Sleeper dreams above his headstone,
shaven like a monk and cloaked in brown,
sleeping in a sidelong open coffin,
above cement which stands before a storm
of brewing night. The pillow talk he sees
in his nightmare is self-identity,
glimpsed in the looking-glass, reflecting space,
then clockwise, the bowler hat of work and age,
a red apple symbolising food and sex,
a candle for the light which resurrects,
a grey crow to represent the soul in death,
all round the blue bow of a girl's undress,
as if he is himself just one more object
in some sensory deprivation experiment.

Go to Top

In The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Berlin

This is art which imitates death,
a stone ocean with roots in men's breath,
a human wound of gas grey cement,
of false hope - Emergency Exit -
the tombs getting deeper further in,
each one thousands of unknown civilians,
a cemetery of inert graves,
drowned in unstable silence, mass waves,
no labyrinth holding hope of a centre
or way out, each matchbox tile a chamber,
every block tall as a prison wall,
or an army closing in for the kill,
but still the green candles of trees
let in life, like children's birthdays.

Go to Top

Declaration

I like to give mankind the benefit of the doubt
and assume we can act by head and heart.
I know through justified true belief
that I am not wholly corrupt and selfish.
I am individualistic, yet cooperative,
self-reliant, yet communicative,
a believer, if not in God, then loyalty,
in government for and by the community.

I have faith, not in any religious morality,
but in everyone's efforts and ability,
political toleration and liberty,
friendly rivalry and social harmony.
In a state of personal responsibility,
each can conform to plural diversity,
sowing the seeds of democracy
in step with security and stability.

I think all persons possess the energy
to find for themselves a workable policy,
apply themselves to family and country
and act on a level light years beyond theory.
So here is my declaration in summary:
know thyself as one among many,
be true to your nature, future and history,
and rise above life's inequality.

Go to Top

Lost Plots

The quest became a story of two lovers.
The monster had to be tracked down and killed.
The hero and the heroine quarrelled forever.
The treasure made its owner dwell on evil.
The monster had a mother, which was fiercer.
The son of the first hero swore to slay it.
The city crowned the man who solved the twister.
The comedy of errors was far more tragic.
The rags-to-riches generations passed.
A young lad came of age, voyaged and returned.
A hopeless man underwent a rebirth.
A subject climbed from darkness to the sun.
But there remains one underlying question:
where did Feste go when his play was done?

Go to Top

Mood Games

These words you read involve the semantics
of plural minds and meaning is public,
though readings of any demographic
contain errors amongst their statistics
and all the projects of hermeneutics
will not be correct about a classic,
for ultimately what theorists should seek
is not signifieds, but a nervous tic,
not explanations of hieroglyphics,
but the drug test for a poem's Prozac,
since a written text is a by-product
of the writer's state, just as a critic
signifies most through his verbal attack
not propositions, but his mood of black.

Go to Top

International Women's Day Night @ Dogstar!

In aid of International Women's day, Thursday, March 8, Lambeth Arts in association with Pretty Petty Thieves will be hosting a night to celebrate the day. Live Music, Poetry, spoken word and Live DJs will be featured so come along for some fun and informative
readings.
 

Line up:

Kerry-Fleur Schleifer:
Kerry is presenting the event who is a Progressive Jazz musician and a a poet. For more www.kerryfleur.com 

Maggie Sullivan: 
Maggie’s work has been published in Nth Position, Smiths Knoll, Other Poetry, MAGMA, Poets Letter, Obsessed with Pipework and The Tall Lighthouse Review II and The Affectionate Punch. Poems are due out in ORBIS and The Interpreters House. Two poems have been prizewinners in competitions recently. Her first collection is due out in the autumn with Tall Lighthouse. Maggie has also been a featured reader at around 6 events to date. For more: www.poetsletter.com

Ayanna Witter-Johnson: South London based Jazz musician 

Sarah Wardle: Poet who has released two bloodaxe books. For more www.poetsletter.com

Mary Jane Coles: Critically acclaimed DJ who has appeared at mainly mainstream festivals and received backing from BBC Radio 1

March 8 2007: Entry: £2: 
8pm - 11pm 

Dogstar, 339 Coldharbour Lane, London SW9 8LQ. Nearest Tube Station: Brixton

For more information email: Shola Aleje: Saint_knuckles@yahoo.co.uk  

Go to Top

Poetry School Poetry Event

Join us at the next Poetry Club for an evening of wonderful poetry and food.

The Poetry Club is the place for poets to meet, relax, eat wonderful food and enjoy superb readings.

17th March 2007, 7pm

Ev Delicatessen 97-99 Isabella St. Waterloo, SE1 8DA 020 762 061 91 Ev is a hop away from Southwark tube station. Entry £5, £4, £3 to suit pocket

We are delighted to showcase six exceptional poets who have participated in courses with The Poetry School, and who will be reading with two of our tutors.

Don Paterson Greta Stoddart

Pat Borthwick Ian Bremner Patrick Early Rebecca Gethin Joyce Goldstein Mary McNulty

Hosted at the Anatolian Café Ev, these readings celebrate everything that is essential to The Poetry School: inspiring poetry, an inclusive community and a commitment to and love of the art.

The Poetry School operates a generous bursary scheme so that no one should be excluded from our programme on financial grounds. All money raised at The Poetry Club is added to the scheme's funds (meze is not included in the entry price). £5, £4, £3 to suit pocket

Don Paterson has written four collections of poems, Nil Nil (1993), God's Gift to Women (1997) - winner of the T. S. Eliot Prize and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize, The Eyes (1999) and Landing Light, which won both the T. S. Eliot Prize and the Whitbread Prize for Poetry.

Greta Stoddart studied at The Poetry School and is now a tutor. Her debut volume At Home in the Dark (Anvil, 2001) was shortlisted for the 2001 Forward Prize for Best First Collection and won the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize 2002. She is Writer-in-Residence at Exeter University.

Go to Top

Featured Poet: Joshua Idehen

Joshua Idehen is co-founder of the Uber coolio-collective known as A Poem Inbetween People, the host and organiser of the spoken word event PoeJazzi, and a spoken word artist himself, perfoming all over london at such renowned events such as OneTaste, Poetry N Motion, Poetry cafe, to name a few. When he is not speaking words/hosting, Joshua is yelling at his brother, yelling at the TV screen, writing his novel, writing some more, working, and at the end of it all... finally going to sleep. And finally when he sends his submissions rather late he is willing to risk blaming it for either being lazy or busy! We are not sure which of these to choose! Come to Poetry Cafe on the 12th to hear Joshua Read with us.

Exes meeting for dinner

Cheek Kisses colder than caviar
The table, a battleground
Personal successes, ammunition against the former
Other half
Yeah, my poetry, doing quite well
Lot's of interest in my book
Life is good, life is fab
I've had lots of sex
I'm happy, I'm glad
I'm getting on without you pretty fine
She doesn't speak
Brilliant
Pre-emptive pearl harbor-style whoopassing is effective

And then
She says
I'm getting married next week,

Hiroshima

Just like that, your cards imitating re-enforced
Steel crumble so fast the ten minutes between the what, the wha, the wow and the stuttering congratulations is the most dazed and confused you you've felt since… last week, really
You can't see both sides have sustained heavy heavy damage it's
Amazing how the white tablecloth between you both isn't bloodied up
This being the first five minutes

Conversation thinly butters silence,
Unhealed wounds bleed lists of past grievances
Hidden in subtext, snide references,
A cough,
Ahem,
Remark
How's Harry doing, it's him you're marrying, yes?
Po-face defense
Against retaliations
You still working all the time,
Or have you finally slowed down?

Pause for breath

Friends, you chat friends and family
Since you find each other too peppery to taste
Let alone digest
Hearing about her relatives and her idiot pal
Chantee is about as exciting as an office Christmas party
For tee-tollers
And the way she spoons her empty plate
illustrates her interest for your new poetry friends

Maybe that's not a po-face mask after all

Like wine you've both aged, you have changed, both of you
Reminiscing days together is vinegar
Thirty minutes and she admits she is not really hungry
She's always been the braver

The bill is split down the middle
So no one carries any one else's guilt
Cheek Kisses colder than caviar
Lies for dessert
Let's do this again

Sure, why not

Experience imprisons pain behind two greatbigfatsmiles

It is the fool, and the fearful
Who falsify the minute- eyes match silence- when truth is badly desired
Or speak nothing
There she goes
Here you watch
No apologies tendered
No resolutions made
No dinner

You loved her once
She made you happy

Life: a sport

This must be second place

Go to Top

On the way to Frankfurt Hahn


There is a short bridge overlooking a valley
Made up of many mini mountains

Big ones small ones fat ones molehill ones super size-ones they sunbathing in blankets
Made tall green trees all different shades of green
It is breathtaking-
For the fifteen second it lasts

Dare I the gall to believe in those fifteen seconds
When my bus crossed that bridge those trees stood up tall
To steal my attention?

Or were they all just giving me the finger?

Go to Top

I move my pawn
She says at this point
It'll probably come as a shock
To people that I have a masters
She eats with knight

I understand what she means
But I say she should try anyway
Surely people will look at her different

She says
Don't be fucking stupid
Anybody gets a whiff of smarts
From me and the gravy train is over
I was flipping burger with my masters
On a wall
Thought I was being clever but no
I was being stupid
Only stupid girls
Act smart
Smart girls act stupid
So people don't get threatened

Marilyn Monroe spent her smart years
On her knees.
Gentlemen prefer blondes? She's dumb
And suddenly, she's swimming in millions

I understand but disagree. I make a move

She checks me. And continues
I appeared on big brother. Yawned farted
Spat fucked about fucked got kicked out got called a gig
A dunce a dimwit and now I'm worth three million
People buy magazines about me getting a boob
Job and go 'oh look at this dumb bitch'
But I count my coffers meanwhile the rest of
The fuckers I fucked, who are they?
Where are they now?
Remember the name of the geek in
Big brother

I understand and agree

Because no one loves a smart pants
Female? Rich? Don't wanna work?
Act dumb
Work on the smile
And body language
People love giving money to dumb people

Just then Paris Hilton walks
In with Nicole Ritchie. Nicole is off
It and spilling the love in the toilet

And Ms. Goody says
I bet you didn't know
Paris studied Phychology

Paris has that half sleepy look
She wears to all the party
I turn from Ms Goody to ask Paris why he has that looks
She said to filter all the fucking
Bullshit around me

She says soon as daddy dies and
She's got her share of his fucking
Estimate she gotta run for office
Buy every voice on the planet
And smile for the rest
And when she gets to the oval office
She is going to fucking destroy people.

I turn around. The board is checkmate.
Goody gone out the cellar.
I see her outside, on the monitor
Perfectly staging a trip over on the red carpet.

(this poem was written before her faux-pas at the celeb big bro house 2007)

Go to Top

She saw her father once

He visited mother the night before,
That day
All she knew then was what she heard
Knocks on the door
Arguments
Tears, then momma's bedside banging against the wall

That day she saw him
She was surprised and a little bit terrified

Father was a teddy bear
Look at the size of the fur on his face,
She could play hide and seek in that bush

Father could carry her with two fingers
Up close, he felt tickly.
She giggled. She loved him.
What, she was, four? Five?
She loved him, Mr funny fur

He took her to school that morn
She couldn't wait to show him off

He placed her and her backpack on the front of his bike
And rode so

Fast the wind kissed her eyes
Fast so her locks flew
She screamed
The speed
The whiz
They sped through hackney on daddy's bicycle

At the school gates they dismounted
His kissed her forehead with those furry lips of hers
Made many man promises of change
And she being, what, five? Four? Believed him
Looking forward to fast bike rides to school forever
She believed him right up til a vehicle pulled up behind him
And put a bullet in his heart

Older, her work hours are infinite
Her rise through company ranks, meteoric
Men she wears out like underwear
And convertibles are never fast enough

A good day off is a racetrack afternoon
With a super bike
Friends ask why she always in a hurry
She says she ain't looking to go nowhere
Only cover distances
And nothing ever seems speedy enough
Forever she Searching for the whiz, zip
Wind kissing the eyes

The broken hearts boil in her dusttrail
Call her the bullet

She resents that.

Go to Top


LIVERPOOL PLAYWRIGHT JIMMY MCGOVERN WRITES HIS FIRST STAGE PLAY FOR 25 YEARS

A CO-COMMISSION FROM THE LOWRY AND THE LIVERPOOL CULTURE COMPANY
Wed 12 - Sat 22 Sep 2007 The Lowry - World Premiere 12 Sep 2007
The Lowry - Press Night Fri 14 Sep
Tue 25 - Sat 29 Sep2007 Liverpool Empire
Artistic Team
JIMMY McGOVERN - WRITER
JUDE KELLY - DIRECTOR
HOWARD GOODALL - COMPOSER
IAN BROWNBILL - ORIGINAL IDEA / MUSICAL SUPERVISION

This September The Lowry stages the world premiere of King Cotton, a co-commission with The Liverpool Culture Company, which will also open at The Liverpool Empire later that month.

This is the first stage play in 25 years from one of Liverpool's best-known playwrights, the award-winning Jimmy McGovern, author of Cracker, Hillsborough and The Street, and adapted from an original idea by Ian Brownbill. Famous for his incisive take on contemporary society, McGovern uses his unique talent to bring another controversial period in the country's history to life.

This ground-breaking co-commission not only links two cities renowned for their artistic excellence but also three of the most important names in theatre, music and television.

Since opening in 2000, The Lowry, the hugely popular and award-winning arts venue on Salford Quays, has brought a dynamic new strand to the performing arts portfolio of the region and in 2007 presents its most ambitious project yet, King Cotton.

In the run up to Liverpool becoming The European Capital of Culture 2008, King Cotton is staged at a highly significant time. Commissioned to mark the bicentenary of the abolition of the slave trade, it is one of the highlights of the city's 800th birthday calendar and is part of the city's Year of Heritage programme.

King Cotton is directed by one of Liverpool's most famous daughters, Jude Kelly, former Artistic Director of West Yorkshire Playhouse, currently Artistic Director of London's South Bank Centre and one of the most dynamic and innovative theatre and opera directors of recent times.

An emotional and inspiring musical theatre, King Cotton's music is composed by Howard Goodall, famous for his TV theme tunes including Blackadder, Mr Bean, Red Dwarf, The Catherine Tate Show and The Vicar of Dibley.

With epic sweep and compelling music, it tells the story of the struggle to break free from poverty and slavery, seen through the eyes of Sokoto, a black slave working on an American cotton plantation and those of Tom, an impoverished mill-worker in the North West of England. It is set at the time of the American Civil War and the Lancashire cotton famine.

Cotton is the thread that binds their lives; lives inextricably linked until the story is finally played out and reaches its emotionally wrought conclusion. The narrative is driven by a group of musicians performing music inspired by the traditional sounds of Northern mill towns and the plantations of the Deep South, with the defiant pulse of the African drum resonant.

King Cotton is produced by The Lowry and co-commissioned by The Lowry and the Liverpool Culture Company. King Cotton is supported by The National Lottery through Arts Council England, and the PRS Foundation.

Robert Robson, The Lowry's Artistic Director, commented "We're delighted to collaborate with the landmark event of Liverpool's City of Culture in this unique way. King Cotton is the realisation of a long term ambition for The Lowry, which has involved raising significant funds. This is such an exciting project and we're thrilled to be working with the talents involved. King Cotton is also a great opportunity to build on our successes. It enhances the rich and dynamic theatre programme that we create ourselves and bring in from across the UK and around the world."

Councillor Warren Bradley, leader of Liverpool City Council, said: "In our 800th birthday year, we are delighted to have joined forces with one of the most exciting arts organisations in the country. King Cotton brings together a wealth of extraordinary talent from Liverpool and beyond. It examines a turbulent period of history on both sides of the Atlantic, directly affected by Liverpool's status as one of the main ports essential to the existence of the slave trade. The production will surely be a major landmark in the city's already rich theatrical history."

The Lowry: Booking for King Cotton is only open to mylowry subscribers until public booking opens on Thurs 1 March. To book now for King Cotton, register free on The Lowry's home page at www.thelowry/mylowry.

Liverpool Empire: Public booking opens Thur 1 March 07