Last month's poem of the month writer, Christine Bousfield, has chosen this month's poem. Christine says, "I like the energy, economy and strong sound patterning of this poem which reminds me a bit of Ted Hughes in its emphasis on the harshness of nature."

Find out more about Carol and her work at
http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/carolthistlethwaite

sanderlings

on the beach – faded wa...

Last month's poem of the month writer,Gaia Holmes, has chosen this month's poem.

Gaia says,"I've chosen 'The Hare' as I love the sharpness and precision of the language. I love the clear, strong imagery and the way the words effectively evoke a chill. "
Find out more about Christine and her work at
http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/christinebousfield

THE HARE

I’m an arctic ghost, now...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Helen Shay, has chosen this month's poem.

Helen says,"This is an expertly-crafted poem that appeals through its sensuous evocation of an imagined life, described in such naturalistic detail we can smell the Gauloise. It is this juxtaposition of the artificial (a celluloid film experience) with sensory experience of the real that drives the poem. In it, l...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Sally Jenkinson, has chosen this month's poem.

Sally says, "It feels pretty ridiculous for little me to be trying to decide which poem of a lot of brilliant poems is the brilliant-est, so I just picked the one I genuinely like best!

Find out more about Helen and her work at
http://writeoutloud.net/poets/helenshay

LETTING-GO

She doesn’t cling...

Last month's poem of the month writer,Catherine Smith, has chosen this month's poem.

Catherine says,"I really loved Sally Jenkinson's poem, it is resonant, sexy, brave. Great stuff."
Find out more about Sally and her work at
http://writeoutloud.net/poets/sallyjenkinson

Double Negative

It wouldn’t be vaseline-lensed and soft focus,
It wouldn’t be the thick, impasto sex of lovers....

Last month's poem of the month writer, Cath Nichols, has chosen this month's poem.

Cath says,"Catherine Smith’s poem starts in a recognizable place (the religious door-to-door salesman) but then morphs off elsewhere. It encourages empathy but also surprises. I like that the religious type is not a Jehovah’s Witness, he’s ‘Presbyterian’, and that the woman trapped on her doorstep visu...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Andy Hopkins, has chosen this month's poem.

Andy says,"I really like its form in the opening stanza - with the rushed downward movement. I also like the sheer absurdity of the concept that she brings to light - allowing the poetic moment (and the strangeness of human science and endeavour) to speak for itself."
Find out more about Cath and her work at ht...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Morag Reid, has chosen this month's poem.

Morag says,"I'm an urban poet with an affinity for wild, natural places when I can get to them and free my mind & soul.
This beautifully concise, precise poem captures the mystery of a wild place, such as Cumbria in winter, and leaves it open for the reader to decide what a 'soul place' means.
I loved its quiet...

Last month's poem of the month writer, John Mather, has chosen this month's poem.

John says,"It is a poem that is expertly crafted in rhythm and rhyme about the near perfect woman, I say near perfect because I believe there's no such thing as the perfect woman. As I read it and re-read it aloud, I couldn't help wondering if this remarkable poem was autobiographical? If so, the author must be a...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Bill Ewen, has chosen this month's poem. He says,"The charming and reflective tone of John Mather's poem "Many Years Ago" really captivated, then lingered in the passive depths of my musing mind, while depicting perfectly the precious delights of childish play. The structure of this poem rests quite comfortably on the page, and then leaves the reader feeling...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Clarius Ugwuoha, has chosen this month's poem. He says,"I single out Bill Ewen's 'That Primal Scream" for its rhyme, rhythm and appeal. It recreates live in a terse and haunting tone."

Find out more about Bill and his work at
http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/billewen

THAT PRIMAL SCREAM

One damaged soul, one broken heart,
Her dying words confirme...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Freda Davis, has chosen this month's poem. She says," I relate to the poem, having lost a child myself long ago. Also I felt it was good to call a child Darlington. It’s a sweet name, even if you have lived there as I did for a year."

Find out more about Clarius Ugwuoha and his work at http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/clariusugwuoha

DARLINGTON: We Li...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Jane Holland, has chosen this month's poem. She says,"I'm choosing this poem for two reasons. One, its amusing extended metaphor - the smoker as a dragon - which reminds me of my own poem 'The Dragon Woman', also about the horrors of chain-smoking for decades and the desperate need to give up. Which I eventually did! Two, I love the way this poem goes into su...

GREEN MAN
Last month's poem of the month writer, Derek Adams, has chosen this month's poem. He says,"It does what I think a poem should do, it tells a big story with few words, it is concise and precise."
Find out more about this poem by visiting Jane Holland's blog at http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/janeholland

She turns in sleep, sensing him
in the dream-time. Invisible hands
press an...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Paul Taylor, has chosen this month's poem. He says, "I like the way that the poem, in discussing a labyrinth, draws the reader into one."
Find out more about Derek and see some more of his work at http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/derekadams

MINOTAUR

Bull-headed, I sit
at the centre of a labyrinth.
Staring at walls, that I have constructed,
from...

Last month's poem of the month writer, Michelle Hubbard, has chosen this month's poem. She says "I liked the poem... and read it to the friendly ghost that resides in my kitchen - it liked it too! I enjoyed its truth and simplicity and the honest acknowledgement of our spiritual world - with the usual denial we give it."

The Higher Plane

the old inn
was demolished
before it collapsed

we...

This months poem was chosen by, the writer of last month's Poem of the Month, Anwen Lewis.

Anwen says "I chose this poem because it is a beautiful expression and combination of two very important themes in my life at the moment - I've just spent time visiting my only remaining grandparent, to be warmed by her words once more before the addling of age diminishes their rhythm; and I've finally ma...

I wrote this poem to pay homage to the poets that inspired me to get started. Dike Omeje was a driving force of BrothaTalk and the first poet I ever saw in performance. This poem is dedicated to them all and in memory of him.

Fanfare for BrothaTalk
In memory of Dike Omeje

I love your big, bold, beautiful, brown mouths.
Brothas, I feel the flames of your words
and the hunger in your ears...

Hetero-clitero-homophile-gaiety
Querulous queens invoking the deity
Cross-dress transvestiges, cleric and laity
Lovebums and lecherlewds loll under lamps.

The boners, the groaners, the boozers and cruisers
Snorters, up-shooters, occasional users
Dealers, and dabblers, losers, refusers
Happy-go-lucky heroines on hemp

Bi-monosexual, solo depravity
Sun-dried tomato, pied mince and gravit...

If a grain of salt was a little seed,
What would it grow into?

After one day there would be a breeze
like someone blowing on your face.
After two days, a drop of rippling water.
After one week, a roaring wave,
and floating on its furthest tip,
a little ship.

But the ship would be closed up like a bud
with its sails tightly folded,
so the wave would shake it and bounce it and swi...

IN THE POCKET OF THE WOUNDED SOLDIER

– ‘The forgotten woman is the soldier who was crucified’ (Miltos Sachtouris)

in the pocket of the wounded soldier lay a handful of leaves
in the pocket of the wounded soldier grew an ear full of corn
an ear full of dust! an ear full of the first blue morning glory.
when the wounded soldier put his hand in the pocket and found god,...

You came to this place, it was a fading wish
The merest light to raise you from a certain fate
The faintest option of another dawn
The slightest hope of being reborn

Welcome to the house of Doctor Curio
(The place you heard about in murmured anecdotes)
Come in and make yourself feel ill at ease
The dirt and dust of millennia
Lie like deserts across the decrepit uninviting entrance h...

He would never have been seen in trainers.
Any work boots he had were kept at work.
“You can tell a man’s standing by the state of his shoes.”
He was a shoe fan.
With black polished Oxfords and brogues in tan,
He was a sole man, a leather sole man.

At a loose end, or before a big event,
Or as part of his regular Sunday morning ritual,
He laid out his kit on last night’s newspape...

Sample poems from ‘The Elephant In The Corner’ (www.tall-lighthouse.co.uk)

I will survive

As long as I know how to love,
course it’s tacky,
heartbreak is a tacky, messy business
and if you never sat on the edge of a sink,
in a ladies’ loo, in some dodgy night club
bawling your eyes out
while your best mates and total strangers
put their arm round you saying
he’s...

See the boats coming on mass, zoom in and see only one boat, zoom in and see the men, now only one man, now see what he sees the beach up ahead, see the D-day beach, yes, now you see it.
And in this soon to explode cocktail of Normandy and Nazi death the man is waiting, with stomach knotted, heart garrotted he rides the waves. The black flack is heart pounding as the back beat to this making of...

Row upon row, cot upon cot
and the smell,
not Johnson’s baby shampoo
or sweet talcum-powdered bottoms

I watch the worn out,
tired, hard-lifed women
as they casually throw babies around,
for a living
they hold a child,
a child who may become my child,
feet first under a freezing cold water tap
and grin with amusement to see my horror at that

It’s hard not to judge

But who am...

“Men judge us by the success of our efforts. God looks at the efforts themselves” - Charlotte Brontë

CONSIDER THIS

I shall write in a style that may, or may
not be, self explainatory.
I mean, I don’t know,
what it is,
if anything, I will end
up with, will be any good.

If my effort is found to be good,
I will read it in spring or May.

A strong end,
does not have to b...

It’s goodnight from him
And it’s goodnight to this:
Saturday bathtime, a home win,
The bliss
Of a night in the glow
Of a rented TV;
A family spread out
On two chairs, one settee.

It’s goodnight from him
And it’s goodbye from me
To a comedy built on dances with words,
An eye for the language
An ear for absurd
Interlocutions, grammatical fluffs
And lines that my brother just...

OK, I’ll compare thee to a summer’s day:
You’re not that bright, but you’re hot.
While poets may say you’re like the rose
Both you and I know you’re not.

True, you walk in beauty in the night
(Though you look a bit rough by day).
Now – how shall I make love to you?
Let me count the ways…

If I was string
I’d want you to unwind me
If I was spices
I’d want you to grind me
If I was a contract
I’d want you to bind me
But I’m a missing cog,
a little lost dog
– so just find me

If I was a kettle
I’d want you to boil me
If I was a robbery
I’d want you to foil me
If I was a carpet
I’d want you to soil me
But I aggravate,
I’m a creaking gate
– so...

Oh how I love to sit
And watch the inferior world
nurdle by, its trousers
tucked into its socks
how superior I feel.
Me with my bicycle clips. Ha!