Poetry Blog by pauline sewards
Frances Macaulay Forde on visiting the chelsea hotel (Sun, 28 Jan 2018 12:55 pm)
on visiting the chelsea hotel (Sat, 27 Jan 2018 09:22 pm)
on SATELLITE OF LOVE (Fri, 13 Jan 2017 05:38 pm)
Robert Gross on Synaesthetes night out at Cafe Oto (Mon, 2 May 2016 06:01 pm)
visiting the chelsea hotel
we walk along the hudson river climb
onto the highline where monarchs swarm
purple verbenas and dry grass
cross block on block heart in mouth
walk don’t walk yellow taxi traffic horns
count down the numbers on west 25
spot the red brick high rise one time
‘world’s tallest building’
ventilator shaft intubates basement window
the building pegged by scaffoldin...
Saturday 27th January 2018 8:04 pm
Bristol poets especially may be interested in this event: The brilliant local poets Deborah Harvey and Tom Sastry with Open Mike. More details on the Gig Guide
Saturday 25th February 2017 8:43 am
For over a year I've been co-hosting the Satellite of Love event in Easton, Bristol
See gig guide for more details
All write out loud poets welcome
Friday 13th January 2017 9:07 am
On December 14th the 1st anniversary of SATELLITE OF LOVE is happening at The Greenbank Pub in Easton Bristol. Poetry and Spoken Word from ANGIE BELCHER, MATT DUGGAN, MELANIE BRATON AND TIM BURROUGHS
READ THE GIG GUIDE FOR MORE DETAILS
Saturday 10th December 2016 10:16 am
I'm reading on 6th July at The Poetry Cafe for Southbank Poetry magazine
Will post full line-up on here when I know it.
Saturday 9th April 2016 11:44 pm
I'm co-hosting a poetry night on the 2nd Wednesday of every month at The Greenbank Pub, Easton, Bristol. Helen Sheppard, another Write Out Loud poet is Poet in Residence.
See gig guide and facebook link above
Saturday 9th April 2016 11:41 pm
The Laws of Family Migration
The Venn diagram of transcultural love
has no full intersections.
A spouse is not a spouse but is a potentially
non economically active burden on the State
Hearts become coins become cherries
in a fruit machine. There are no
winning lines, nothing adds up. Love
conquers nothing, counts for nothing.
Meanwhile your child
is free to live in any c...
Friday 24th July 2015 9:11 pm
I've had a great poetry time recently: taking part in the advanced group at the Poetry cafe run by the talented and insightful Katy Evans-Bush , reading at some fabulous places - The Cellar Bards, Shine so Hard and feature spots at Survivors poetry and for book launches of Clare Saponia's new collection 'The Oranges of Revolution'. So in the last few weeks I've had the pleasure and honour of read...
Friday 24th July 2015 8:59 pm
How to leave Soho
Un-tongue the archaic idioms of Wardour Street prose,
those acronyms and codes. Sign out for the last time.
Delete all opinionated indiscretions.
Surrender your keys and password.
Purge details of pharmacists from your phone
as if they were the names of dealers.
Time will end at six as the Swiss clock chimes;
cow chases maiden chases wa...
Saturday 2nd August 2014 3:43 pm
Lived in half breaths
taken with one lung
christened in haste
for expected brevity
given a half name
or the apocryphal Plain Bert
as inscribed by the officer at the Labour Exchange
the name that lasted him for seventy years
of milking, ploughing, hedging, ma...
Saturday 15th June 2013 10:48 pm
Only a licensed waterman can present a boy for binding -
seven years an apprentice, learning to row, with long paddles,
the punts that hold fifty tons of cargo, iron hull, timbered deck,
greasy gun’les, walked with toes turned in.
Seven years to learn
the moods and feelings of the Thames,
come to terms with the wind,
names of points, reaches, bridges, wh...
Saturday 15th June 2013 10:45 pm
Synaesthetes night out at Cafe Oto
This is an impression of an impression,
the hyperreal of ketchup in a painting,
a kid’s wax crayon drawing,
a pulp paperback, lurid and lovely,
a pastiche of unstitched pop songs.
This music tastes not of red wine but cold beer,
electronic gizmos sharpen silence,
club cut hair is feather black on cheek bones,
basket weave lantern throws honey...
Thursday 4th April 2013 10:45 pm
Highgate Women’s Pond We are fair feather swimmers, lucked out on sunshine dipping down among the moorhens and the mandarin ducks. Remember the house we shared, the book we all read - from The Women’s Press - ‘Steaming Ahead’ - picture of an iron on the spine. It was called Three Ply Yarn, told the stories of women’s lives, how they combine, pull apart and coincide. Today our hair dri...
Wednesday 22nd February 2012 11:29 pm
At the corner of the Croft
is a Basket of Light
This is where songlines weave up
through pavement cracks
This is where, not so long ago,
breeze blew over poppies in wheat and cows in clover
on Stokes Farm
skateboarders wheel round pecked out buildings
and boots stamp burnt foil into the tarmac
of Stokes Croft...
Tuesday 10th May 2011 12:25 am
that winter she mainly looked at rooms
the thumbnail pictures
of beds still in their plastic wrappings
granite veneer uncluttered
she read descriptions of gardens
and single quiet dogs
winced at misspellings in descriptions
free of grammar
and although she could not remember
in Docklands, Le...
Sunday 17th October 2010 11:44 pm