Attempts at writing in difficult times

It’s April (how the heck did that happen?!) which means that it’s time for another annual attempt at National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo).  However, with recent local news from Spice in Manchester to recent reports on asylum seekers in Rochdale (please allow me a small, cynical moment: I guess that’s why subsequent governments partly make the capped … More Attempts at writing in difficult times

‘The Stories We Could Tell’ – using art to share, to heal, to change

Last night I was honoured to be invited to watch young people who live in and around the Rochdale borough. These young people had some incredible stories to share.  They were children seeking asylum, foster children, and young people who may struggle with mental health distress.  They told their tales through music, song, comic strip, Powerpoint … More ‘The Stories We Could Tell’ – using art to share, to heal, to change

A poem a day: Too cold for confetti

Not really using the “I remember” prompt today. The penultimate poem for this monthly creation (churn?!) of poetry is possibly more of an everyday imagined human geography.  (Also: villanelle!)   Too cold for confetti The wind cuts right through, it’s like breathing ice, the solid rain turns silence into blue. You said it once, don’t need to … More A poem a day: Too cold for confetti

A poem a day: Thursday 7th January 2016: Afternoon carrot cake

One from the notebook for today’s prompt – a day turned upside down.  Written one way then falling backwards, grasping onto words to make some sense of it. Rochdale field notes notebook   Thursday 7th January 2016: Afternoon carrot cake Afternoon carrot cake, over sweet, not enough cinnamon for the twin sets and pearls. Served with a turd of … More A poem a day: Thursday 7th January 2016: Afternoon carrot cake

A poem a day: He watches the shadow people stand on Yorkshire Street by the iron gate

Today’s prompt is to write poetry inspired by Ciaran Carson or Walt Whitman.  Essentially “leggier verse” than previous poems.  A bit experimental and the most “prog rock” title that I think I’ve ever used…   He watches the shadow people stand on Yorkshire Street by the iron gate Run a pointed ash stick along the grubby black bars of the iron … More A poem a day: He watches the shadow people stand on Yorkshire Street by the iron gate