What’s Been Going Down

Well, lots of school visits at the moment, which I’m enjoying. And last week I read some poems at a Hastings Festival gig. Most enjoyable. Yes, I did read the dog in the zoo poem (pronounced shitzoo!) as well some old favourites. Top of the bill was Zena Edwards, who, as well as being an excellent poet, played the thumb piano (or, I think, the marimba – correct me if I’m wrong).

And now I see that there’s a programme on UK TV on December 1st called The Contenders – featuring five performance poets – including Zena and Matt Harvey. Matt’s brilliant – so much so that I persuaded him to sell some of his little books on the Rabbit Press website (see opposite) He visited Hastings earlier in the year. I believe it’s aPop Idol type show with the winner winning some cash. If you get a chance to see it be sure to vote for Matt. It's good to see some poetry getting TV coverage.

This weekend we went to the North of Scotland (brrrrrr!!!) where there was a blizzard raging. Had a lovely time though, visiting old friends, eating and drinking. Mind you it took me over twelve hours to get home – including travelling on two cars, a plane and five different trains. Home now though, and just one more school visit, then time to do some more writing... Hooray!

Here are two of Matt’s poems…

A Pinch and a Punch
(a traditional spell to avert disaster)

a pinch and a punch
for the first of the month
a clip round the ear
for the start of the year
quite a bad headache
for the start of the decade
a pretty nasty injury
for the start of the century
and accident involving plutonium and uranium
for the start of the millennium

If Love

If love
can build a bridge
can affection
put up a shelf?

Found Poem

Our local zoo
Has only one animal
A dog

It’s a shiatsu

On My Way To School...

My New Book


Staying In

Crawling across the classroom
is a black shiny beetle called Bill

A fat, furry fly called Fred
sits on the window sill

A thin, hairy spider called Sid
climbs up the classroom wall

A boy who’s been naughty called Me
sits on his own in the hall.

I am staying in at playtime
Just me, myself and I

All alone with my regrets
and a beetle, a spider, a fly

Small White Egg Poem

I find
a small, white egg
under the conker tree
in the corner of the school field

I hold
the small, white egg
in the palm of my hand
and peer up into the tangled branches

The tree
is empty and the
small, white egg
is cold

I think
there is a song inside
the small, white egg
that we will never hear

Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the bed
The little dog laughed
But not for long
Because the cow landed right on his head