My first visit to the regular Words and Ears event held at The Swan in Bradford on Avon proved to be a treat on Thursday 28th December. Hosted by Dawn Gorman, there was an open-mic session along with three guest poets, Stephen Daniels, Hazel Hammond, and Dru Marland.
Stephen delighted audiences with his witty and sometimes poignant reflections on life from his new collection, Tell Mistakes I Love Them. Helen debated the mermaid dilemma that has perplexed men for centuries, as well as reading from her own collection, Needlepoint. Dru entertained us with readings from her first collection of poems on ornithological musings entitled, Drawn Chorus . Dru has promised to pen a verse on the musicality of a birdsong combined with the ting of a cooling motorcycle engine, which I look forward to hearing.
Poetry is not a form I have worked in often other than Kerbcrawler (the collection in progress on this blog), but I think the study of it is essential in aiding a writer of prose to become sharper, succinct, and a little more creative.
Words and Ears is held every last Thursday of the month.
Read poetry. Learn the beauty of your language through its masters. I would like to read a poem a day, but it often doesn’t work out that way.
I recently read Herman Wouk Is Still Alive, a short story by Stephen King that won the 2011 Best Short Fiction Bram Stoker Award, and was struck by how the author weaved poetry with the fiction to such stunning effect. (Spoilers not given intentionally, just read the story available in The Bazaar of Bad Dreams short story collection. Oh, and read some more poetry.)
Three Drops Press are looking for ghost-themed poetry and flash fiction.
Discovering Bukowski recently. I thought I would share The Twins with you – read by the poet himself. It’s a poem that made me smile.
I’ll miss your ass.
“What just my ass?
I’ll get you a replacement.”
Will she speak the words you speak?
Or lull me with your lilt?
Or fuck like you?
Shall she raise her fists as you do?
Or bang heads with me?
I’ll miss your ass.
up the hill toward the fields.
a man and a boy and a plane.
what does my son carry today?