Long weekend ends in a final evening

Dizzy slopes fall short in memory

Smoking isn’t allowed he said

Quick twists and turns the starship Sun

Slipping away kites no more.

Free teas and bendy biscuits

Fuelling poetry for 16 years

A pat on the back for the postman

            and his three-fingered salute

WE WERE CONSPIRATORS THAT MONDAY NIGHT

LIKE A RIBBO...

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Over supermarket lager, pie-eyed

in badly-stained underwear

The sunflower is an explorer throwing

caution to the wind

chasing the raging fiery ball

THE TIMETABLE GLISTENS WITH CONDENSATION

Playing nude bingo at

the Police Station with Nigel

Where do all these words come from?

While watching the sunflowers grow

I got on the train with a ghost

de...

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Swansea waves words at passing poets

The twenty-fifth day is long and in others souls,

A week later we enter the next chapter with

New raging goals.

Kissing capitalism's ass and not mine

Highway traffic moves in waves,

Or should that be it crawls like a crab

Marrying a woman from East Texas

She cooked Christmas pudding for dinner each night

In peanut and r...

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Great poets inspire; we aspire to write only the adequate, the good;

Perhaps the funny or the emotional; and we are satisfied.

Are you the poor homeless beggar that was given

A good kicking by Paul?

Different people from all walks of life

Sharing their love of the written word

Swallowing our different realities

Confined in the rhythm of Thomas

And the dirtiness of Buko...

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White marble windowless womb

Seals inspiration inward, like a skull

Fenced by a colonnade and oaken doors,

A maze of steps and echoes.

White marble magic walls keep back the night,

Exclude the loud cheap town - its angry sirens,

Stumbling traffic, its cut-price ugly crowds

With inbred voices raised - our culture cuts away

These vicious tumours.

This purer place...

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Lost in transition

Your words carried like a brief encounter

Emotion is the monster hiding outside the walls

Gangreen in suburbia and skinned alive

With donkey ears! Good Gods!

Occupations occupy stations on the wall

Barrymore paints the myths of time

To hang in Manchester as a quiet man

Tells of lost love.

Sonnets to art leave us lost

There's rumo...

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For those interested, the IWFYAT afternoon poetry reading sessions on March 26th / April 9th have been subjected to a slight tweak: they will run from 3.30 - 4.30 PM, not 4 - 5 PM as originally scheduled. 

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Just a reminder about our Read Out Loud event tomorrow at Stockport Art Gallery in the fine creative setting of the Open Contemporary Art Exhibition. Non-regular attendees have to book a place via the Gallery (0161 474 4453). The event starts at 7.15 PM but attendees should try to arrive by 7.00 PM.

A microphone, laptop and projector will be provided for those wishing to provide a multimedi...

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