Writing the past (once again) through the lens of the present

Regular readers of this blog won’t be surprised to know that this post has been brewing for some time, but here goes. My boys-only grammar school was a microcosm of overwhelmingly white, Establishment England. In a Geography lesson, the deputy headteacher justified Thatcher’s sending of the Task Force to the Falklands with a rant about how his… Continue reading Writing the past (once again) through the lens of the present

Review of The Evening Entertainment and other news

My day started well this morning by finding out that eminent poet, critic and prolific reviewer Billy Mills had posted a review of The Evening Entertainment among other reviews on his always-interesting Elliptical Movements blog. Whilst I hitherto wouldn’t have agreed that my poems are quite as formulaic as Billy implies, it’s useful to hear a viewpoint which… Continue reading Review of The Evening Entertainment and other news

Three English Miniatures

1 Every day I don the taciturn authority of a snooker referee. My clobber’s always beautiful: cufflinked shirt and Paras tie, narrowest-pinstripe three-piece suit and handstitched Oxford brogues. I could tell you about my three tours of Northern Ireland; the kills. These are deerskin-leather gloves I bear within my borough-crested cap. I loathe this poxy Vauxhall… Continue reading Three English Miniatures

Carnlough and the Barbican

I spent the last week in August in Carnlough, on the Antrim Coast, on Anne-Marie Fyfe and Cahal Dallat’s Coffee-house Poetry week, and what a week it was. Anne-Marie’s inspirational exercises had the twenty of us participants drafting poems infused with blueness and on all things cloud-related. Cahal’s workshops on the writing of Sinéad Morrissey, Ciaran… Continue reading Carnlough and the Barbican