A new poem: The Future

I am delighted to announce that Ink Sweat & Tears have published a new poem, The Future, today. With thanks…

Giving up writing

Last week I gave up writing. For about a day. I had been given a book by one of my…

I met Fairnie somewhere round the back of Richard Nicholson (or was it Rupert Loydell?) sometime in the very early…

I am delighted to welcome Chrissy Williams to enthuse about a poet who may be unfamiliar to UK readers. –…

I have been sorting. I have been chucking. It’s been the recurring theme over the last eighteen months. I cleared…

At the start of each academic year, usually when I have known them for a week or so, I make…

I am not sure why I started wearing deck shoes. I am no sailor -I have been on a sailing…

The book is sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by small scraps of paper. Some have whole sentences on them.…

‘What are you doing?’ I say. ‘What does it look like?’ the book says. ‘It looks like you are tearing…

Writing is about hypnotizing yourself into believing in yourself, getting some work done, then unhypnotyzing yourself and going over the…

The Negro Speaks of Rivers I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the…

The Dead Woman If suddenly you do not exist,if suddenly you no longer live,I shall live on. I do not…

The Advantages of Learning I am a man with no ambitions And few friends, wholly incapable Of making a…

Joan Mitchell looks to be the only artist of her generation, man or woman, who produced a big, abstract, painterly…

This is the opening question and answer to an interview with Paul Clyne of Poetry Spotlight, published today. With thanks…

Recently, I took our 11-year old boy to see the Turners in the National Gallery of Ireland. These 31 watercolours…

‘Hullo,’ says the book. ‘I thought you had gone away.’ ‘I lied,’ says the book. ‘What are you going to…

‘Hullo!’ says the book. ‘Have we been introduced?’ I say. ‘I’m your new book!’ ‘But I haven’t finished the last…