wordsthroughtheglass

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Archive for the tag “Poetry”

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye
a fish hook
an open eye

– Margaret Atwood

Karl Pilkington Recites a Poem

Over the Christmas holidays, whilst getting fat on Rocky Road and trying to reverse the affect of days of drinking, the Ricky Gervais Show came on TV. In the show Karl Pilkington (my personal awkward hero) took a liking to poetry and the results are amazing. Click this picture to watch him in action:

kp poetry

Here is the poem encase you didn’t catch it straight off:

“If moths had eyes, would they be happier?
How do they know they’re not dead?
Cavemen hunting for food
But not before they style their hair on their head
What would last longer in dinosaur times?
A blind man didn’t stand a chance
Not with all them rocks about
I`d rather be a blind moth”.

cont.The Scrabble Challenge Poem

After the Trial

That was the eve
all was muted –
colour was glued
to the floor,
the radio was just
sand
emptying like figs
into our ears.

There were no jokes.

No acorns rolling on
titled tables, or dolls
without eyes
to play with.

All that was clear
was the orb
of blood
and regret
that rested in
our mouths.

The Scrabble Challenge

Calling all Poets

If any of you love Scrabble as much as me then try this challenge. I came up with it after being up to my eyes in board games this Christmas… The next time you play a game challenge yourself to write a poem using the words you have created on your board. Sometimes random words can lead you into new, exciting territories that you would have never thought to explore.

This afternoon I actually tried it! Here is a photo of my game and the poem I wrote using the words on the board (see next post for poem). The process was really fun and resulted in something  refreshing and abstract. It really got me out of writing patterns that I always fall in.

As always let me know what you think. If you can’t be bothered to play a game but you wanna try this feel free to use my board as inspiration. x

P1160353

Depression Repetition


This will be me on Saturday, in the rain…
I am reading and writing poetry on a moving Narrow boat. Fingers crossed I wont have a soggy piece of paper to write on.

Illustration by Nelleke Verhoeff. Check out her blog: ‘red cheeks factory’.

Happy Birthday Walt Whitman!

Here are some beautiful words from the wonderful late poet Mr. Whitman, as seen in my all time favourite show ‘Breaking Bad’. Just. Incredible. Enjoy.

Poetry Takeaway

Today, was mine and Katie Hale’s first ever event as [insert text here]. We held a humble reading of five poets in south London’s Deptford Lounge. It was heaps of fun to organise and take part. We had great support, so just wanna say a little thank you to all involved. We took photos and videos of the event, so look out for those in the upcoming week. If you want to know more about this event or want to be involved in upcoming events please follow [insert text here]. Don’t be shy to say hello, we love to talk!

If you live in the UK I hope you enjoyed the sun today, apparently it was hotter than Africa!


We even snuck in a little Southbank action after the event. (As you can see in the picture  above of us fooling about).

The Owl and the Pussycat




I
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”

II
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Everyday I’m Shuffling


Just finished reading at the Poetry Place ‘Shuffle’. Quiet an honour to be amongst all the amazing poets. My sister filmed the whole thing, so may post a snippet later, if anyone was interested to see. Glad my sister finally got to see me read too. Very cool place.

Mad Men on Mars


Well hello there, I greet you with this rather suave looking alien thing. This picture looks like a pitch for a show called ‘Mad Men’ on Mars. The colour scheme is very typical of Ben Newman, Newman is metaphorically like one of those bands you can always recognise on the radio. I don’t mean that in a bad way, there is defiantly something to be said of an artist, having a ‘trait’ and a recognisable style. Plus he normally has bad ass colour schemes.

I hope you’ll are having a great Friday. I am getting nervous as I have a poetry reading tomorrow at the Shuffle. Six people are coming to see me including my dad, sister and long lost cousin, which is nerve racking to me as it will be the first time they will see me read. It’s especially embarrassing as most the poems in my collection are about my dad robbing banks. No-eye-contact-allowed. I may just have to introduce him as a distant relative. Anyway, I am gonna try to film the reading so look forward to a little snippet of me making a fool of myself on stage. It should be posted in the next few days. My soon-to-be-new alias is ‘Crime Poet’, as my friend insists I be.

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