‘I’m tired.’ ‘Go to sleep then,’ the book says. ‘There’s plenty for me to be getting on with while you’re…
Archive
No one you know
‘You look upset.’ ‘I am upset,’ I say. ‘Well, not so much upset as disappointed.’ ‘Want to talk about it?’…
The point is the silence
‘I’ve stopped listening to the radio!’ ‘What, completely?’ the book says. ‘Not completely, I’m not an idiot,’ I say.…
Gazing out of someone else’s window
‘Where have you been?’ the book says. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Here, waiting for you,’ the book says. ‘Working.’ ‘Same…
Breathing Space July, by Tomas Tranströmer
Breathing Space July The man who lies on his back under huge trees is also up in them. He…
I hope your new book is a disaster
‘How’s it going then?’ ‘What going?’ ‘Your ‘New Book’,’ says the book. ‘Fine, thanks,’ I say. ‘No early difficulties with…
Starting a new book
‘Where have you been?’ ‘Out,’ I say. ‘You were out for a long time,’ the book says. ‘Days.’ ‘I was…
Lifesaving Poems: Marie Howe’s ‘Prayer’
Concluding this mini-series of poems I shared in my reading at the Greenbelt festival last weekend, here is Prayer by Marie…
Lifesaving Poems: WN Herbert’s ‘The Black Wet’
Continuing in this mini-series of poems I shared in my reading at the Greenbelt festival last weekend, here is The…
Lifesaving Poems: Ann Gray’s ‘mercifully ordain that we may become aged together’
It was such a privilege to read from the cornucopia of talent assembled in Lifesaving Poems at the Greenbelt Festival over…
Suit. A new poem at Simon Parke’s blog
I am delighted to have Suit, a new poem published on Simon Parke’s blog, in his poem of the week…
Lifesaving Poems: Christopher Southgate’s ‘High Fidelity’
To celebrate the appearance of my dear friend Christopher Southgate at this year’s Greenbelt Festival, I am republishing my Lifesaving…
All of The Book blog posts in one place
Thank you to all my readers who have been asking to see a page with all of The Book blog…
A list of found poems
Here is a list of the found poems I have been posting over the summer, including older posts from last…
Who would we be?, by Susan Sontag
A writer, I think, is someone who pays attention to the world. That means trying to understand, take in, connect…
When poetry moved underground, by Czeslaw Milosz
When poets discover that their words refer only to other words and not to reality which must be described as…
The back of an envelope thing
‘An amazing stillness this morning. A sense of impending exhaustion in the air. There was one robin as I went…
Not to forget
‘What drives you?’ says the book. ‘Haven’t we been here before?’ ‘What drives you?’ ‘Are you serious?’ ‘Never more,’ says…
