Guest poets Jo Bell, Chris Dommett and Emma Mcgordon at this the sixth Stirred promises to make it a special April event. I'm excited to hear their sets, fifteen minutes of poetry love from each guest.

Anna Percy has promised to recruit 'pathetic prizes' for the regular writing exercise. Last month was all about the shoes, this month it is all about the Christmas cracker debris. The picture...

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There was a stone in the lake

And the moon in my hand

There was a stone in my hand

And the moon in the lake

I threw the stone and it became the moon

as it solidified in the water's space

Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,

all skin and fin; water bodies

I threw the moon and it became a stone

A pitted rough hewn chunk

as real as touch, its pres...

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I woke in the middle of the night

Slurred with illness cold tickling

My throat; my nose red raw. I saw

your body eloquent as a choir

corpse-still your bones were breathing

singing, the chorus chant sighing through you

orchestra woman. My favourite part:

the string section, its high toned rend

tore my heart in two.

A broken up shadow your body

...

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