They also sent me an mp3 of the song and I’ve uploaded it to soundcloud. Find that here. What they’ve done with mmy poem is really powerful but the whole live stream is really cool.
Taken from the reviews page of Crack Magazine, March 2020
Taken from the review pages of Crack magazine, March 2020
I regret to inform you the world does not require your attention, it is still generous with it’s gifts.
From Bristol: In Stereo March 2020 edition
PhaethonOfficial: We are here at the tenth Future of Computational Intelligence conference (#FCIC10). We sponsor a number of PhD students, excited to see their findings!
ProfSam: Key note in ten minutes. Still get nervous even now. Wish me luck! #FCIC10
ElaineEvans: @ProfSam You’ll be great
ProfSam: @ElaineEvans Thanks for inviting me.
fr0gk!ller: @ProfSam I hope u get lost in the desert and die u moran. Continue reading
- I’m very grateful to have a poem up on Nine Muses Poetry called Imposter. It’s a strange little piece and I’m glad it’s found a good home. Check it out here
- One of my poems Hollow Passengers was also set to an awesome improvised soundtrack by Charlie and Jake as part of their Echoes and Edges live stream. It’s such a cool collaborative project and one of the best uses of technology I’ve seen. Check it out below or click through for timings. I recommend watching it all as the whole project is very inventive.
- I’m going to be (virtually) on their live stream again this Saturday 16th. Go to their site for more details and links on how to watch.
- Stay safe everyone.
Singing soft chimes under her breath, she
kisses each ear of wheat, borrows
yellow from sunflower petals before
smearing each cloud with evening, takes
indigo from the blackberries, then stops,
not satisfied with her canvas. Sighing, she
grabs a cherry blossom and erases the day
showing the countless stars behind, waiting.
It was an acrostic and pastoral workshop. Working within those constraints was really challenging but really useful. By limiting myself, it challenged the language and patterns I usually fall into when making poetry.
One of the very few advantages of lockdown has been the proliferation of live-streamed poetry events. It means I’ve been able to attend a few more than I would do normally and from a wider area. I took part in an online slam the other day with the hosts based in Swindon, which would be too far for me to go for a night in ordinary life.
It’s a bitter blessing. Nothing beats being in a room with other people but this is the next best thing.
Taken from The Lanes listings from Bristol in stereo March edition- which feels like an artefact from a different world
photographs left on a windowsill.
That’s the hope. The numbers will
blur, the weeks will drain of detail
and colour and I will be left with
outlines and vague shapes, glimpses
of faces in the washed-out clouds,
voices speaking through the hiss.
But I’ll remember the constant dread
every time the radio cut to a bulletin,
how the cruelty of those in charge was
too obvious to ignore. I’ll remember
watching the trees bloom with wonder,
asking myself how beauty could still
emerge around us. I’ll remember the sun
stroking our faces despite everything,
warming us before starting on the slow
obliteration, over-exposing our thoughts.
Final prompt was “What Will you Remember?” from AmyKayPoetry. I’ve tried to avoid writing directly about the crisis as thousands have said many wise and helpful things. With this prompt, it felt appropriate to address it.
I’m done! Thanks for all your support in this
I turned my poem from NaPoWriMo Day 27 into a little zine. Click a picture to zoom in.
to the wind, like a website with every
space filled with adverts, all flashing
for my attention, like a river delta
as hundreds of tributaries race towards
the ocean. Do you understand? It’s like
I’ve drunk ten espressos and all I can hear
is the thumping house beat of my heart or
like I am dust in the depths of the galaxy
not yet ready to coalesce into planets.
You must know what I mean. It’s like I’m
a beam of light shot through a prism,
or my thoughts are cryptic crossword clues
or I’m a CRT television stuck between
channels, half images looping back over
themselves. What I’m trying to say is
I’m like a lizard darting across hot
sands, it’s like I’m caught in a washing
machine near the end of the cycle, like
I’ve become a comet entering the atmosphere
before inevitably burning, disintegrating,
becoming nothing more than fine ash rain.
Prompt was “Gimme Simile- really pack those similies in” from AmyKay Poetry. One day left!
whereas just yesterday you could
see the galaxy spin. We are out
of coffee once again, the internet
is often on the blink and helicopters
are swarming day and night in hives.
The oceans are swelling, drowning
small coastal towns. The years are
now dandelion seeds in a gale.
I blink. Ten more have flown away.
All of this feels like my fault
somehow. I offer my hands as
an apology. You close my fingers,
pass them back to me, a gift.
Prompt was “Apologise or don’t” from AmyKayPoetry
Bare toes curling over grass before
the dew is done
Satellites describing ellipses
falling around Earth
Pain au chocolat, black coffee,
Bristol harbour with no wind
a perfect mirror
Ohmmmmmmm the fridge chants
Prompt was from AmyKayPoetry to make concrete images out of abstract concepts, following on from Vulnerability Study by Solmaz Sharif